Chapter 43 - I just can’t get it in

EMMA

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Hadrian asks. There is concern in his voice as he hovers above me.

I move up and down and groan. "Yes, I do."

Hadrian narrows his eyes at me. “Don’t say it like that, this is serious”

I huff and look up at him. “I just can’t get it in.”

“Goddess, help me.” He groans.

Hadrian moves down to the floor to help me. My foot hangs half out of my new black boot. He kneels down, grabs my ankle and lifts my leg into the air. His thumb presses into the exposed skin of my ankle. I suppress a moan as I lean on my elbows.

I roam my eyes over his body. Hadrian is focused on getting my foot in my new boot. He is dressed in black clothes, made of a soft material that shows all his muscles. The swell of his biceps, the ridges of his abs and the outline of his long, hard manliness.

“Stop looking at my dick Emma.”

I gulp and look up at his dark amber eyes. “I wasn’t looking.”

Hadrian pushes on the boot and my foot slides in. He keeps hold of my ankle as he leans over. “Do you want to fuck?”

My eyes flit down again and I force myself to look him in the eyes. “What? No.”

He places my ankle on his shoulder and he runs his nose over the exposed skin on my chest. “Then stop looking at my dick with those hungry eyes.” He says as he sits up.

My leg straightens and he turns me over by pulling on the hoops of my jeans. I gulp and I’m lying flat on my stomach on the wooden floor. A stinging pain shoots through me as Hadrian slaps his hand against my ass. The sound reverberates through the room.

I gasp. “Did you just hit me?”

He looks at me with those intensely dark, whiskey eyes. “Your ass looks good in those jeans.”

Hot magma swirls slowly and vigorously in my core. It warms me up all the way to my fingertips.

Hadrian keeps my gaze. “Do you want me to do it again?” His voice is raspy with lust.

*Aboard, Alarm, Danger, Danger.*

I take in a loud breath and avert my eyes. All the blood floods to my face and I refuse to answer him. I clamber from the floor and walk out of the dressing room.

“Are you ready?” I call behind me and I walk to his office.

Two nights ago was the banquet, where I came face to face with my nightmare. I have not left the rooms ever since. I’m terrified that I’ll run into him again. Hadrian has promised me multiple times that he left and if he so much as comes within twenty feet of me, he’ll rip his head off. Regardless of the consequences.

Hadrian has stayed with me in the rooms as much as possible. He only trains for hours at dawn. Usually, I’m still asleep anyway. Hadrian suggested last night that the archives might have information about the attack and my mother. I noticed that he didn’t want to bring up the subject, but it’s something I’ve thought of as well.

Hadrian follows me and his eyes have something predatory in them. “Yeah, I’m ready.” He pulls on the handle to open the wall paneling. I stand before the entrance of the pitch-black tunnels.

——————

My determination dwindles when I walk around the archives. Hadrian takes me to the highest floor, which is closed off to others. No guard is wandering this floor.

It is nighttime and the nearly full moon shines through the glass ceiling. Four nights from now is the Blood Moon. Stars litter the skies and form a beautiful display.

I look at the endless shelves of filing boxes. “Maybe I should just let this go.”

Hadrian takes two boxes from a shelf at the same time. “Can you do that? Knowing there might be more information about your mother here.”

*What if it's something I don’t want to know?*

On both boxes is the number *172* written and I look around. All the boxes on these shelves have 172 written on them.

“What does 172 mean?”

“It’s the year. We count the years differently than humans. 179 years ago the kingdom was founded. 172 is seven years ago.”

We open the boxes and they are filled with logbooks. The logbooks are made of leather and bind together a hundred or so pages.

I flit through the pages of a couple. I read through logs from different generals, captains and lieutenants. There are logs on repairs, unusual sightings, disputes, and soldiers. Everything is recorded.

The back of the logbooks have names on them. The names are embossed in small letters at the bottom.

“What was the name again?”

Hadrian looks up from his box of logbooks. “Zeno.” He says.

I take a deep breath and focus on my task. I pull out logbook after logbook. I notice that they’re in alphabetical order. A lot can be said about werewolves, but they have an extensive organizational system.

I walk up to the last box and take it off the shelf. I fall to the floor with the box. *Man that is heavy.* It looks lighter when Hadrian does it.

“Let me help you.” Hadrian eyes me with concern and I just glare at him. His strength gets a little annoying sometimes.

“No, I got it.” I open the box and pull out a few logbooks. They’re all from General Zeno. His name is embossed on all of them. I skim through the pages and notice that he is the only one who has written everything in charcoal pencil.

My eyes land on the date of the attack.

*October 17th 172, Humanis*

*The blood moon provided a productive start of the second face. 76 subjects have been eradicated. 27 under the age of eighteen. Only one was able to escape…*

I swallow and close the book for a second. I don’t know if I have the stomach to read more. I take a deep breath and square my shoulders.

I turn to the next page. Behind the log are endless pages of drawings of women and girls. All drawn with charcoal pencil. The drawings are detailed and have one thing in common. All their eyes are laced with fear. I swallow as I flit through the pages.

There was a method to his madness. He has recorded every victim with a drawing.

I recognize most of them, even though it has been years since I last saw them. I gasp when I land on a page with a drawing of my mother.

“Are you okay?” Hadrian asks.

He gets up from the floor, but I don’t look at him. My eyes are focused on the drawing. There is no color in it, but I can still see life in her eyes. Unlike the other drawings, she has no fear in them, only determination.

“It’s her,” I whisper. I blink away the tears and give Hadrian the notebook. He looks at the drawing and then at me. Like he’s comparing the two.

“You look like her.” Hadrian tears the page out of the notebook. He’s careful not to ruin the page and hands it to me.

A frown pulls at his brows when he flips back to the front. “Are you sure it was October 17th?”

“Yes, why?”

He avoids my eyes and closes the book. "Nothing, it doesn’t matter.” He closes the notebook and looks in the box.

Something else catches his attention and he pulls out another notebook with a wooden box. They’re tied together with a leather string. His brows furrow deeper.

“Something wrong?” I ask.

“This has the wrong year on it.” He points at the side of the book that reads *171*. I reach out and Hadrian hands me the journal.

I open the journal and read the first entry as Hadrian opens the wooden box.

*April 24th 171, Septentrion*

*The experiment has been successful. The poison has entered the subjects undetected. The symptoms started with vomiting, and chest pains followed by blood loss from the brain and eventually death…*

From the corner of my eye, I notice that Hadrian opens the wooden box. Inside are purple dried flowers and I immediately recognize the Blue Monkshood.

Hadrian reaches for the flower and I gasp.

“Don’t touch that.” I shriek.

Blue Monkshood is also known as Wolfsbane.

“It’s poisonous.”

Hadrian scowls and closes the box. He keeps it away from me. He takes the notebook from my hands and reads through the logs. I move to read with him.

*September 6th 171, Septentrion*

*Today we’ve eradicated the northern region of every female blue-eyed werewolf. There have been no other casualties. No questions have been asked about the origin of the outbreak…*

I gulp and Hadrian turns to look at me. Realization dawns on both of us.

*Humans are not the only target.*