Chapter 27 - Hiding something?

HADRIAN

The pungent smell of silver burns in my nose. A strong wolf can easily detect when there is silver nearby. They can smell it. The scent is bitter and it sends warning signals all through my body. It makes the hairs in my neck stand up and sends gooseflesh down my arms. It wakes me out of my unconsciousness and I sit up straight to find the looming threat.

I’m in my bed at the palace and there is a figure sleeping next to me. The rising sun filters through the window and casts a soft orange light over Emma. Her features are peaceful. Long blonde lashes cast shadows on her fair skin, long white locks spill in a disarray over the pillows, and her full lips are slightly parted. In the hollow of her throat lies the blue moon charm, held there by a silver chain.

*It’s her necklace again.* I think to myself.

Nero is still sleeping soundly. He was just as exhausted as me, but now we're back. He’s sleeping like a log. More thoughts surface in my mind for my attention. We were wounded and the gashes wouldn’t heal. I look down at the white bandages around my stomach. The memories of last night are blurry. I was sure that I was going to die. The blood was too much. There are stains of blood on my trousers, the bed and of the clothes of the human. Emma helped me and got me on the bed, but I don’t know how.

“You’re awake.” The melodic voice of my supposed mate pulls me out of my train of thought. Her gray eyes watch me closely. The color is so unusual, just like her hair. It lacks color, but there is so much depth in them. They shine like dark metal or a dark stormy cloud that thunders with lighting.

I hum in agreement and turn my focus back on the white bandages around my stomach and begin to tug at the knot.

“Let me do that.” Her hand covers mine and I freeze.

Warmth and peace flows through me in waves, lighting up every cell in my body and I suppress a groan. Her scent comes closer and fights its way through the silver with ease. Warm vanilla, rich custard, and fresh lemongrass.

She doesn’t wait for an answer and her dainty fingers peel the knot open. She leans in to unwrap the bandages around my waist. Her focus is completely on her task and I wonder if she has done this before, to someone else. I suppress a wave of jealousy. Werewolves tend to be possessive for no grounded reason. It is in our nature and wars have started out of jealousy. What’s ours is only ours. It can be a dangerous thing.

“Why did you help me?” I ask. My voice is still rough from sleep.

She peers up at me. Those gunmetal eyes clouded with doubt and a little V appears between her eyebrows. As if she just realized what she has done.

“I don’t know.” She eventually says and turns back to her task.

I don’t like that answer. I shouldn’t mind, because she should be the last one to help me. But I really don’t like that answer.

Emma pulls the bandages away and my abdomen is revealed. Where there were three open wounds a few hours ago is now only smooth, healed skin.

“How is that possible?” She asks.

She runs her hand down my stomach and I choke and grip hard at the sheets under my hands. Other parts of my body wake up at a rapid speed. She pulls back her hand and gives me big apologetic eyes.

“Did I hurt you?”

There is another beast inside me, and it wants to come out. It wants to play around with her innocence. It wonders what she’s willing to do if I told her yes. Her scent is overwhelming and I shake my head. I focus on the scent of silver. It doesn’t calm down my body, but it prevents me from losing control.

I focus on that pungent bitter smell and locate it’s source from her neck. I let that smell consume me, instead of her temping one. I trace it through the air, but it runs past her, behind her and out of this room.

*What the hell?*

I get up from the bed and register from the corner of my eye that I scared her. It only makes me linger for a second, because my senses are tuned to the threat coming from the dressing room. I note that there are no living beings in the room. No heartbeat giving of a subtle tud. I take slow calculated steps that are soundless to a regular wolf. Only the strongest of us can hear the faint collision between the sole of my foot and the wooden floor.

“What are you doing? There could still be tearing beneath the surface.” I hear behind me.

“There isn’t.” It’s not a lie. I can feel it. My abdomen has healed over the night. I don’t know how or why it didn’t in the first place, but right now it has healed completely.

I enter the dressing room and notice the rows of female clothes filling half of the room. Most of it has been untouched by the human. The scent of vanilla follows me into the room. Her scent disrupts the trace I was following. I step away from her and search for the trace of silver. I walk around and take a deep breath.

The trace of silver resurfaces when I near the vanity and there is a faint gasp behind me. I turn around to look at her and there is guilt written all over her face.

She walks around me and blocks my path to the vanity. “You should take it easy. It’s still early."

I walk towards her and she takes a few steps back until her back hits the edge of the vanity. I look her up and down and she can’t look me in the eye.

“Hiding something?”

Her heartbeat speeds up and eyes widen ever so slightly. “No, what would I even hide?” There is hesitation in her voice even if she doesn’t intend on it and I know she’s lying.

I lower myself to the floor and come eye to eye with her chest. She looks down at me and her skin flushes from her cheeks, down her neck and over her shoulder. I wouldn’t mind pulling her up on that vanity and spreading her legs for a taste from the source of her sweet, delicious scent, but first I need to know what she’s hiding.

I reach behind her legs and tear away the loose floorboard. The girl doesn’t realize that I know about every inch of the palace. Every room, every tunnel and every hiding spot. I pick up the wooden box in the empty space beneath it. There is a lock of weak metal. The lock is easily broken and I open the box.

Fury burns inside my veins when I see the two silver daggers. Around twelve inches long and sharp on both sides. The handle is wrapped in worn leather and dyed black.

*"Maybe there is a logical explanation."* Nero suggests.

I grit my teeth. *"Don't be so naive, Nero."*

Emma was purposefully hiding them away. Objects that could kill a werewolf with a single, precise stroke. There is only one reason why a human would hide silver daggers in a palace full of werewolves.

She planned on killing one.

*Me.*

I get up from the floor. Emma isn’t in the room anymore and I follow her into the bedroom. She’s already at the door and her body trembles when she reaches for the handle. I’m faster than her and close the door when she tries to open it. My hand is placed above her head and my body hovers over hers.

She turns and I expect to see fear in her eyes, but there isn’t. The fury in her eyes matches mine.

“Pretty stupid of you to save me if you want me dead.”

Her hands ball in fists and her face twists in a grimace. “You’re right. It was stupid. I should’ve just let you die.

There is movement behind the door. Heartbeats of three people. There shouldn’t be anyone around. I don’t have a guard like my father or sister and I didn’t call for any servants.

“The only thing you filthy mutants can do is hurt others for your own sick pleasure.” She spits out.

I ignore her insult and move her out of the way to open the door. In the doorway stands a girl wearing a maid's uniform and two of my sister's guards dressed in signature black. The maid has a tray of food in her hands and is visibly distraught. Tears brim her eyes.

“State your business.”

“I’ve brought breakfast for princess Emma.”

“Paulina.” Emma says with a gasp.