Chapter 57 – The Taste of Ash and Blood
Giselle lay curled on the cold, damp stone floor, her body wracked with aching exhaustion and soreness that hadn’t eased in hours. The last spell had taken everything from her. Even breathing sent fire licking through her chest and sides.
Breathing hurt. Thinking hurt. Living hurt.
Her limbs trembled when she tried to move, and her wolf, Aeris, remained distant—her presence dim and unreachable. A hollow ache stretched across her chest like a wound that would never close. The steady thrum of her connection to Rowan had dulled to a whisper, barely there.
She wasn’t even sure it still existed.
She was alone. Again.
Then the world shifted.
A distant snarl echoed through the darkness. Sharp. Animalistic. Followed by a loud thud, a yelp of pain.
Giselle’s body jolted as if struck by lightning.
She pushed up with a grunt, her limbs heavy and shaking. For a second, she doubted her senses—maybe it was a dream, or her mind breaking under the weight of her suffering.
But then another sound came. Louder. Closer.
A fight.
Someone was fighting.
She crawled to the bars on hands and knees, her breath ragged. Her fingers wrapped around the cold metal, gripping them tightly, forehead resting between them as she tried to see, to understand.
A part of her screamed to hope.
A louder part begged her not to.
The heavy thump of bodies slamming into stone. Growls. Snarls. Screams. The air buzzed with violence. Shouts. Pain-filled yelps. Something was happening—*someone* was here.
For a moment, hope surged in her chest. Rowan?
No… it could be anything. A rival pack. More rogues. Or worse—something sent to finish her off before the full moon.
Her breath caught in her throat as metal hinges groaned. And then—footsteps. But not the hurried, heavy kind of warriors in battle. These were slow. Measured.
Giselle’s heart stopped.
She didn’t need to look. She already knew who would appear.
The robed woman stepped into the flickering torchlight, her dark robes swaying like shadows made flesh. Her face was covered, as always, a veil of thick black fabric hiding everything but her eyes—eyes that burned with loathing.
But something else too.
*Familiarity.*
Those eyes pierced into Giselle’s soul, and something inside her flinched.
"You ruined everything," the woman said, her voice sharp as a blade, dripping venom. “All of it. He was supposed to be mine.”
Giselle’s lips parted in confusion, her mind racing, breath hitching.
That voice…
Why did it sound familiar?
She gripped the bars tighter. “Who are you?”
The woman stepped closer, tilting her head slightly. “You don’t get to ask questions. Not after what you’ve done.”
Giselle’s brow creased, pain forgotten for a moment as she stared hard at the woman’s eyes, trying to pull memories from the fog in her mind.
But then the woman moved—swift and silent—and before Giselle could recoil, fire tore through her abdomen.
A scream erupted from her throat.
Her hands flew from the bars to clutch at her stomach, already wet with blood. Heat gushed between her fingers, and her knees buckled beneath her.
She stabbed me.
Her thoughts fractured, panic choking her. The woman was already gone, her footsteps retreating, leaving silence in her wake as Giselle collapsed to her knees.
The stone bit into her legs, jarring every nerve. Her breath hitched in pain.
But the pain remained—sharp and unrelenting.
She lay on her side, moaning as the cool floor pressed against her burning skin. Her blood pooled beneath her, sticky and warm. The cold seeped into her bones, turning each breath into a struggle against the ache that pulsed through her limbs.
Every inch of her throbbed with pain.
Her stomach still burned from the woman’s attack, a slow and steady fire that wouldn’t die. Her lips were cracked. Her eyes, heavy. The scent of iron filled her nose, so thick it drowned out everything else.
Except for the silence.
The silence where her wolf should’ve been.
Giselle’s chest tightened.
She hadn’t felt Aeris in hours. Maybe longer. Maybe—
“No,” she rasped out, her voice hoarse, a whisper too thin for the darkness around her.
Tears stung her eyes, unbidden. “You’re not gone,” she whispered, swallowing back the wave of panic rising in her throat. “You can’t be.”
She slowly uncurled herself, pressing a trembling hand to her heart. “Aeris,” she said louder this time, her voice cracking. “Please. Say something. Growl. Snap at me. Anything.”
Nothing.
Only silence.
Her lip trembled as she shifted, forcing herself to sit up despite the pain screaming through her body. She leaned her head back against the wall, closing her eyes.
“I need you,” she whispered brokenly. “I can’t do this without you. I don’t even know if I’m still me without you…”
A sob escaped her chest, sharp and helpless.
“I don’t know what they’ve done. Or how much longer I can hold on. But I swear—” her voice hitched, “—I’ll keep fighting, if you just come back. Even a little. Just enough to let me know you’re still in there.”
The silence wrapped around her again, cruel and deafening.
Her thoughts turned to Rowan—his voice, his touch, the way he’d looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered.
She pressed a blood-stained hand to her mouth, her eyes squeezing shut.
“Rowan,” she whispered. “Please find me. I don’t know how much time I have left.”
The walls didn’t answer.
Neither did her wolf.
*Rowan*…
The thought drifted, weak and fleeting, as her blood pooled beneath her.
Her hand pressed weakly against her wound, her vision tunneling, her thoughts blurring.
It wasn’t supposed to end like this.
She wanted to cry, but no tears would come.
Her fingers twitched as she tried to pull herself toward the bars, her body trembling with exertion.
The edges of her vision dimmed, but then—
Another sound—heavier footsteps. Louder.
A shadow appeared at the end of the corridor, followed by the scent of pine and ash.
Her heart leapt—*Rowan.*
She could see him now—his face frantic, eyes wild, lips moving in desperation as he sprinted toward her.
Her lips parted, trying to say his name, to call out.
But nothing came.
A figure appeared.
He was shouting—his mouth moved—but she couldn’t hear his words. Only the rushing in her ears, the roar of her heartbeat slowing.
She tried to reach for him.
Tried to stay awake.
But everything was slipping.
The warmth of Rowan’s presence reached her just as the darkness did.
The last thing she saw was Rowan’s hand reaching for her through the bars.
And then, the darkness took her.
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