Of Werewolves and Curses by Emma Hamm
Chapter 19
“My answer is still no,” Leo snarled.
And that wasn’t a satisfactory answer, nor the one Freya wanted to hear. She pulled harder on his arm and continued dragging him through the halls to her private rooms.
It had been one week since Eldridge left with the handmaidens. An entire week of horrible conversations with Leo that ripped at every insecurity the both of them had. She didn’t know if they were healing with each other, or just digging knives into each other’s wounds. But whatever they were doing had worked on bringing the two of them a little closer together.
Close enough that she felt comfortable dragging him through the hall like an infant while she argued that it had been far too long since he’d talked with the trees. That was all they wanted from him. A conversation. A chance for him to listen to what they had to say without alcohol running through his veins and making him an insufferable ass.
Yes, she had called the Summer Lord an ass to his face. And she was proud of it.
Leo grabbed onto the doorframe and dug his heels into the floor. “Absolutely not! Freya, would you listen to me? The moment I step foot into that forest, the trees will string me up with their roots and add me to their collection of dead things.”
“How do you know that?” She tugged harder on his arm. “I think they want to talk with you, otherwise they would have killed you a long time ago!”
“They have been biding their time for the right moment. And apparently the right instrument of destruction came in the package of a mortal woman.” He tugged back, dragging her across the floor toward him. “You’re going to get me killed.”
Perhaps there was the slightest chance of that happening, but Freya was pretty sure she had a good handle on what the forest wanted. It didn’t want to kill Leo, otherwise it never would have sent her on this wild goose chase to convince him to be a better man. If the forest had wanted him dead, then he would be dead.
To her, it sounded like the forest was a lot more interested in getting to know Leo. It wanted him to find out who he was, and to rejoice in the man he could be. Sure, it would be a lot of work to pull himself out of this hole that he’d dug. But that didn’t mean it was impossible to do.
She tugged again, much harder this time while throwing her entire body weight into the movement. “I’m right. You’re wrong. You’re coming with me no matter what.”
The veins in his arms stood out as he forcibly held himself in place. “That’s hilarious, but no. I’m not. You are but one tiny woman and I am the great Summer Lord. You will not force me to go anywhere with you.”
Like the forest had been waiting for his words, the floor opened up beneath them and swallowed both of them. Freya tumbled through the dark, clutching his arm with an iron grip. She wouldn’t lose him even when her stomach had shoved its way into her throat. She would hold on until they both struck the ground.
And they hit hard.
All the breath whooshed out of her lungs in one great heave as they struck the earthen floor near the great tree. Wheezing, she pressed her hands to her chest and forced her lungs to inhale. She had to breathe. Why couldn’t she breathe?
Leo was making similar horrible sounds, but he at least reached over and slapped her back three times. At the impact, her lungs heaved in the air finally.
She staggered to her feet and held her hand out for him to take. Leo glared at her, choosing to remain on the ground.
“See?” he gasped. “The forest wants me dead.”
A stirring at the base of the tree revealed the moss covered body that the tree used to speak. The man’s angry expression was only the beginning of a scolding Freya was certain would make her cheeks burn. “If I wanted you dead, then you would be. You stupid little boy. But you deserved to be rattled around before you talked with me again.”
Leo’s cheeks darkened with what Freya could only hope was embarrassment.
Before he could say something insulting and get himself killed, Freya stepped in front of him and bowed to the dead man. “As always, it’s a pleasure to see you.”
“The taste of your lies is very sweet, Freya, but we both know it’s no sweeter to me than a rotting pumpkin.” The man still grinned, however. “Thank you for bringing my boy to see me, though. It’s been a very long time since Leo and I have had a conversation.”
“For good reason!” Leo staggered to his feet and wiped a hand across his mouth. “You’d rather have me dead than on that throne.”
“You know that’s not true. But it’s easier to say that than to admit you’ve disappointed me.” The man struggled in the roots of the tree, then yanked a skeletal arm from the thick moss. He pulled away from the bark and the rubble until he ripped himself to standing.
Freya tried very hard not to shudder at the sight of a corpse walking toward Leo with single minded intent. The man’s bright green eyes glowed as he reached his fingers for the Summer Lord.
“Wait,” she croaked. “You aren’t going to kill him, are you?”
The corpse turned its head and stared at her with an unimpressed look. “After all the talking we’ve done, Miss Freya, do you believe I want him dead?”
No. She didn’t. Otherwise, she never would have brought the Summer Lord here. This tree wanted to talk with someone it loved very dearly.
She gulped, then replied, “No. I don’t think you want to hurt him.”
“Then go talk with your own father. He’s been waiting for a while to speak with you.”
To speak with her? All the blood drained from her face at the mere thought. He was ready to talk? Had the tree healed him so thoroughly?
Summer Lord forgotten, she turned away from the corpse and the faerie. Instead, her eyes found the prison and the dark form hidden in the shadows. She walked toward the small room as though she were in a dream.
What would she even say to her father? That she’d missed him? That seemed too easy. Of course she had missed him. How many years had it been since she’d seen him or her mother? Ten? Eleven? Freya couldn’t even think through the passage of time and the worst of it all was her fear that he didn’t remember any of the time being gone?
Tears gathered in her eyes. She wrapped her hands around the roots of the prison and watched as a man stood up in the back corner. He turned around and all parts of the wolf were gone. It was her dad staring back at her with a hesitant smile on his face.
He didn’t know what to say either, it seemed. For a while they just stared at each other.
Finally Freya croaked, “Can I come in?”
“I think the tree will let you.”
The roots shifted, and she flew across the small room. Freya threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest. He still smelled like her father, with the sweet scent of hay and fresh grass. His arms were strong as they wrapped around her, clutching his daughter to his chest.
The sound of his heartbeat was all she’d ever wanted to hear again. This was her father, finally, alive and well when she had been so certain he was dead.
“Dad,” she whispered again. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”
“I was certain you were right only a few days ago.” He pressed his lips to the top of her head, tightening his grip on her. “Oh my sweet, brave Freya. You’ve grown so much.”
Goodness, she must have. The last time he saw her, she was nothing more than a teenager. The same age as Esther, who still had more growing to do. Freya pulled away so she could look at him, reaching to pat her hands on his cheeks. “And you got older.”
The silver streaks at his temples looked handsome, though. She thought her mother would very much like the change when she saw him again.
Her father tilted his head back and let out a clap of booming laughter. She’d forgotten how loud the sound was. How he could fill a room with happiness with the sound of his laugh. “Oh, I’m sure I look older. You don’t have to point it out though, darling.”
She laughed with him and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. They spoke as if no time had passed between the time they had last seen each other, and it felt like she had seen him yesterday. All the anger she might have directed at him melted away, knowing that he was alive. That he wasn’t the werewolf any longer.
The werewolf. A shiver ran through her with the knowledge that it might not actually be gone. She had to ask. She had to know.
“Is the wolf...” Freya cleared her throat and took a step back. “Is the tree holding the wolf at bay? Or do you have it under control?”
The frown on his face suggested she wouldn’t like the answer he was about to give her. “Both,” he replied. “The tree is helping me keep control, but I am learning how to hold it back. The wolf is difficult to understand. And I grew up with people like this. Wolves who lived in hiding and no one would ever have guessed they were afflicted by this curse but... I didn’t realize how hard it was for them.”
She could only imagine it would feel like denying himself food or water. The wolf was a part of him, not just another being.
He shook his head and held out his hand for her to take. “Come here, darling. Tell me what I’ve missed and then we’ll talk about the wolf. I’m not leaving here for a little while longer, and I need to know how you found me and if... if...”
He couldn’t say her mother’s name. She knew that would be difficult for him, but she hadn’t guessed how choked up it would make him.
Freya took her father’s hand and let him guide her to the back of the prison where he’d set up a small table and some chairs. A cot rested in the corner, all human furniture now that he wouldn’t destroy them in the form of a wolf. “Mother?”
Her father sat down and briefly nodded. Although, he couldn’t look her in the eye now that he thought of the woman he loved.
“She’s alive.” Freya joined him at the table. “I found her first. You led me to her.”
“I did?” He breathed a long sigh of relief. “I thought I remembered seeing her while I was the wolf, but sometimes that’s not a good sign. I had hoped... Well. I had hoped that she was still alive and that the wolf hadn’t done something we both would regret.”
“No. You saved her. You saved all of us.”
Freya let the story pour out of her lips like a dam had broken open. She told him everything she and Esther had done when they realized their parents were gone. She told him about Esther and that stupid necklace, and how she’d beaten the Goblin King. She told him about saving the faerie courts and bringing back their rightful ruler, only to realize that her mother was under the Spring Maiden’s thumb.
Not a single detail was spared, and she probably told him too much information by the end. She feared his head would spin with all the stories she’d told him, but instead, her father stared at her with wide, proud eyes.
“You did all that in my absence?” he asked.
“I did.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and tried not to let exhaustion overwhelm her. “It wasn’t easy. I’m sorry if I told the story wrong and made you think that I could do it all on my own. I had a lot of help along the way.”
“Yes, you did. I think I’d like to meet this goblin dog. He seems like my kind of person.” Her father tapped a finger to his chin. “Although this Goblin King... I’ll wait to decide if I like him.”
She wouldn’t expect any different. Freya chuckled. “He’s a good man. I don’t know where I stand with him right now. That’s not his fault, that’s my own.”
“Is it?” Her father reached across the table and caught her hands in his. “I know you will do this, and you will succeed. Because you’re my daughter. There is nothing in this realm that could stop you.”
His words lifted her up and gave her a confidence she’d been missing. Freya straightened her shoulders and felt power return to her veins. “I can. And I will.”
“Good girl.” Her father released her hands and nodded back toward the Summer Lord. “You might want to gather him up now, child. He looks well and thoroughly scolded.”
She looked over her shoulder and thought Leo looked a little green. He might have looked drunk if she didn’t know he was stone cold sober.
Sighing, she stood up and dusted her hands off on her hips. “You’re right. I need to take him home. But...”
What words could ever explain how she felt? How her heart was healed at the sight of him?
He smiled at her. “I’ll see you again, Daughter. I have no doubt in that.”
Freya pressed a hand to her thundering heart. “I’ll see you soon, Dad. I swear it.”
