Chapter 68 — Unease
A hearth crackled in the corner, bathing the one-room space in gentle, flickering light. Avella’s worktable was scattered with mortars, pestles, and earthen bowls filled with fragrant herbs and shimmering powders. Shelves along the walls held stoppered glass bottles and small bundles tied with twine, each labeled with the careful handwriting of their keeper.
In the center of the room stood a narrow cot covered in blankets that smelled faintly of cedar and rose oil, where Giselle rested. Every corner of the cozy, lived-in hut spoke of a healer’s hands and a quiet magic. Even so, tonight an unease hung heavy in the room, stirring the shadows as if some unspoken worry had settled into the very walls.
Giselle sat up too fast, her hands trembling against the blankets that covered her. Every inch of her ached and her body still felt fragile, but she couldn’t stop the way her heart thundered in her chest.
Aeris was pacing in her mind, stirring like a wild thing trapped in a too-small cage. Her wolf was hardly more than a faint flicker these days, recovering slowly under Avella’s careful hands, and yet tonight she felt different—anxious and restless.
“Something’s wrong,” Giselle whispered aloud, gripping her sides as Aeris gave another sharp tug inside of her.
Avella glanced up from where she was preparing a bowl of herbs at her small wooden table, concern flashing in her eyes. “What is it?”
“I can feel it,” Giselle breathed, swinging her legs over the cot. “Rowan… something’s wrong.”
Before she could push to her feet, Luther was there, steady hands grasping her shoulders. “Giselle, you need to lie back down,” he urged, brow creased. “Your wolf is still too weak. You need to rest.”
“I can’t,” Giselle argued, breath hitching as she stared up at him. “Aeris won’t stop pacing. She knows it too.”
Avella moved closer, her hands gentle as she crouched by Giselle’s bedside. “Your wolf’s probably picking up on the full moon,” she offered soothingly. “Rowan’s going through a lot tonight.”
Giselle shook her head quickly, dark hair tumbling across her face. “No. It’s more than that. Please, you have to believe me. Something is wrong with him.”
Luther’s mouth set into a grim line. “Rowan doesn’t want you near the pack tonight,” he reminded her gently. “That was the plan—to keep you hidden until you were strong enough.”
“I don’t care,” she burst out, her voice trembling with the weight of her fear. “If something’s happened—if they’re hurting him—then I need to go. I need to see for myself.”
“You can’t,” Avella said firmly, reaching out to squeeze Giselle’s hands. “Your body isn’t healed. Going there now would do more harm than good.”
A tear slipped down Giselle’s cheek as she looked between them. “I can’t just wait here,” she whispered, voice cracking. “I can feel him slipping further away. I can feel Aeris losing him.”
Luther hesitated, his thumb rubbing small, comforting circles against the back of her hand. “Rowan wouldn’t want you to risk you getting hurt,” he murmured. “And neither would we.”
“Then help me,” she pleaded, eyes shining. “Please.”
Avella exchanged a long look with Luther before sighing softly. “Listen,” she began, voice gentle. “We’ll do this instead. Luther will reach out to Charlie through the link and make sure everything is going as planned. That way we’ll know.”
“Will you tell me if anything’s wrong?” Giselle pressed, hands tightening in Avella’s.
“I will,” Aella assured, her gaze serious.
“Promise me,” Giselle urged.
“I promise,” Avella whispered.
Giselle slowly let herself sink back onto the cot as Luther straightened. “I’ll contact Charlie now,” he said, voice low and reassuring. “And as soon as we know anything, we’ll tell you.”
But even as he spoke, worry coiled in Giselle’s chest like a tightening knot, her hands curling into fists at her sides.
Something was wrong.
And she could only pray they weren’t already too late.
Giselle watched Luther like a hawk, her heart pounding harder with each breath. His tall frame stood rigid, his jaw clenched tight as his eyes glazed over—the telltale sign of a mindlink. The flickering candlelight danced across his face, casting deep shadows that only heightened her sense of dread.
Aeris whimpered weakly in the back of her mind, her unease mingling with Giselle’s own. Something was wrong. She could feel it in her bones.
When Luther’s eyes finally cleared, she caught the subtle flicker of tension across his face—the way his mouth pressed into a thin line, the way his gaze refused to meet hers.
“What is it?” Giselle demanded, voice sharp and trembling. “Luther, tell me. What happened?”
He hesitated, shifting his weight as though the words physically pained him to say.
“Rowan…” Luther began, eyes still avoiding hers, “he just walked into the ballroom.”
Giselle frowned, leaning forward, searching his face. “And?”
“He’s acting… strangely.”
The blood drained from her face. “Strangely how?”
Luther ran a hand through his hair, clearly reluctant. “Charlie caught bits of it through the crowd. He’s staring at Rhea like—like a man in love. Like he’s been waiting for her all his life.”
Giselle froze, the breath leaving her lungs as if she’d been struck. “No,” she whispered, voice small. “No, that can’t be. Rowan wouldn’t—he wouldn’t do that.”
Luther’s expression twisted with sympathy, but still he avoided her gaze. “Charlie heard them talking. It sounded like they were going through with the marking. Giselle, I’m sorry.”
For a long moment, she slumped back onto the edge of the cot, her mind spinning. Confusion warred with hurt in her chest, a hollow ache blooming inside of her. But then the pain turned to something sharper. Determination.
“No,” she said, louder this time, rising too quickly from the cot. Her legs wobbled beneath her, but she caught herself on the wall.
“Giselle, stop,” Avella urged, rushing to her side.
“Please, you need to rest,” Luther added, moving to steady her.
But she pulled away, shaking her head fiercely. Tears glistened in her eyes, but her voice was steady. “Rowan loves me. He would never betray me like this. Something’s wrong—can’t you see that? And I’m not going to just sit here and do nothing!”
“Giselle—” Avella tried again, but Giselle cut her off.
“I’m going,” she said, fire burning in her voice. “You can either come with me, or get out of my way.”
The hut seemed to hold its breath around them as her words hung in the air.
Luther and Avella exchanged a glance, torn between duty and the fierce determination blazing in Giselle’s eyes.
But Giselle didn’t wait for an answer. Her heart was set. And nothing would stop her from reaching Rowan.
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