Of Werewolves and Curses by Emma Hamm

Chapter 29

“You’re getting married?” Esther’s shriek echoed through the halls.

The ear piercing sound crossed Freya’s eyes, but she nodded before wiggling a finger in her ear. “Yes, I am getting married.”

“Why didn’t I hear about this sooner?” Esther shouted again.

“Because we just got home. My god, what have you been doing since we’ve been away?” She tried to change the subject so her sister couldn’t ask even more ridiculous questions. She hadn’t even seen their father get out of the carriage yet. And then what sound would she make?

Apparently another scream that bloodied Freya's ears. She walked away from her sister’s meltdown as Esther saw their father. Of course it was difficult for Esther to see him. Freya had cried when she’d seen their dad as well.

But, as callous as it might seem, she wasn’t as interested in her sister’s reaction.

Her mother walked down the steps of the castle in a pale yellow gown that made her hair seem like golden silk. She floated down the steps, approaching her husband that she’d braved the faerie realms to find.

Her mother hadn’t even realized that Henry had been watching over her. While her father had spent what felt like two hundred years watching over his wife, she hadn’t realized a single day had passed.

Henry broke away from his daughter and stepped toward his wife as though she were a dream. “Is it really you?” he asked.

“I’m awake, Henry.” Her voice caught on a sob. “I’m really awake.”

Their hands shook as they reached for each other, and Freya had to look away when they embraced. There was clearly too much to be said between them, but neither of them was interested in speaking. They just wanted to hold each other after so long away from their loved one’s arms.

The picture they painted on the steps to the goblin castle filled her heart with hope for the future. She could see herself in a similar situation as them, finally having her entire family together and maybe adding more.

If only she could paint this moment. To forever have it saved in some hallway where she could look at it when she was sad. To help ease whatever torment she might face later on.

Eldridge hooked an arm over her shoulders and tugged her tight into his arms. “How does it feel?”

“How does what feel?” She looked up at him and grinned, knowing exactly what he was talking about.

“To have your family all back together again,” he replied, giving her a little shake. “Plus one, of course. We can’t forget the most important person in your new family, after all.”

“Lux?”

Freya burst out laughing as Eldridge swept her off the ground. He lifted her up toward the lingering sunlight and wiggled his fingers on her ribs. “I can take it back, you know!”

“Take what back? Spending the rest of your life with me?” She kicked her legs, forcing him to put her on the ground. “Oh no, Goblin King. You can’t take that back. You’re stuck with me until the day I die.”

“Oh, I think that would be the perfect ending to this story. A love that will last for a thousand lifetimes.” He kissed her, then smiled. “I could get used to living like this. You, me, your family.”

A cold nose pressed against her palm. “And Arrow. Obviously.”

She snorted as her goblin companion referred to himself in the third person. “Yes, and Arrow. Obviously.”

Freya started toward the stairwell with her heart filled with light for the first time in ages. When had she last been so happy? Certainly not when she’d had so many responsibilities. Finally, she could relax and rest in her newfound life.

But the faerie realm had another plan for her.

The faint popping sound of magic came before she smelled it. Blood. The metallic scent filled her lungs, and she knew that her time in adventure wasn’t over yet. She had too much to lose this time, though, and her stomach turned knowing she had a choice to make.

She could walk into the castle, away from all this, or she could turn around and face whatever had come for her now.

Freya had never been selfish. She wouldn’t start now.

She turned with Eldridge and cast her eyes on the bloody scene. The stairs they had just climbed were covered in blood, like a red carpet had been rolled down them. And at the very bottom was a familiar, limp figure.

“Thief,” she gasped before racing down the steps.

Freya nearly tripped twice before she landed onto her knees beside the Autumn Thief. Gently, she turned the woman over onto her back. Something had snapped one of her antlers off her head and the other was missing its tines. Blood coated her chin and throat, spilling from her mouth where a few teeth were missing.

“What happened?” Freya asked, hovering her hands over the Autumn Thief’s body but unsure if she should touch the wounds.

“Death,” the Autumn Thief gurgled. “Death came to the Autumn Court.”