Chapter 210

Charles

I got off the phone with Grace and mulled over the conversation. The Shift was taking a harder toll on her than I thought, or maybe Eason had just given her another dose of calming meds. I'd have to check in with him again just to be sure. My phone chimed with a message from him.

Two doses in.

I frowned at that. Two doses in, and her still being relatively unstable was normal, but that didn’t stop me from worrying. It would be so much better if I had some sort of guideline for Stormclaw wolves. Maybe I could ask Ascher, but it was kind of a personal question...

I sighed, grabbed the books I pulled for George, and headed out to the car.

He looked up as I rounded the front. “Everything, all right?”

I shook my head and opened the passenger door. “No, I think Grace is spiraling still. Eason said she's two doses in, and based on the conversation we had and her tone, I think the doses might be a little too strong for her.”

“I'm not sure if that's good or bad.”

“Honestly, it could be either. We'll just have to wait and see.”

“I've heard about the meds being too strong in some cases but not usually for alphas.”

“Probably a result of all the psychological abuse she'd been enduring under Devin… unresolved grief… maybe something had happened to her when she was younger.”

It was pretty well known that trauma and a few other things had ways of weakening the mind so that the shift took a stronger toll on someone but also made it so that the medications we would usually use would be too strong for the individual to handle. The thought of broaching the conversation about her going to therapy in any way, shape, or form was already giving me a headache, but it was a topic we would have to revisit as soon as possible. The Shift wasn't going to let up. It was only going to get worse, and if she didn't know how to regulate the shifts in her emotions, she was going to drive herself crazy. Or everyone else around her crazy. Maybe both.

He sighed. “All of those are possible. In fact, they all seem rather… accurate.”

“Co-morbidity is a pain in the ass.” I got into the car and leaned back. “Eason hasn’t said that he’s concerned, but I'm not entirely sure how Eason is gauging her reactions to the dosages. Has he said anything?”

George cranked up the car and shook his head. “No. He hasn’t given you anything else?”

I checked my phone and shook my head. “They were on the way to a surprise.”

I groaned. “I can’t tell if he’s got this under control or if…”

“If you’re worried about him playing at revenge right now, don’t,” George said. “He can be vicious, but he took a medical oath when he was in Selene. A lasting one.”

My eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

He nodded. “It’s in his file.”

Just when I didn’t think Eason couldn’t be more… Eason. I shook my head. “I’ll do my damnedest to get her into therapy.”

“I’ll be hustling his ass right into it just behind her. You think he’ll be more inclined to go if Ethan goes?”

I snorted. “Part of me wonders if Eason is already in therapy.”

He chuckled and bobbed his head. “That also feels likely… The hyper-capable little shit.”

He pulled out of the parking lot, headed toward the gates, and headed back toward the castle.

I sighed again. “It wouldn’t happen to be in his records… what his dosage schedule was like? Maybe a comparison would help.”

George said nothing. I looked at him and went still at the troubled expression on his face. He grit his teeth and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.

“...Before you go off the deep end in investigating Miss Greystone and all, you've got an appointment with Diana.”

I nodded and kept looking at him. “Is there something you want to tell me? The fact that you pulled his file from Selene is telling…”

George sighed. “I have a sneaking suspicion that Ethan wasn't dosed.”

My heart lurched. “For fuck’s sake. You cannot be serious.”

“I wish I was.” George turned, shaking his head. “I haven’t broached the topic with him… But I’m pretty sure on that.”

“...So what's your plan?”

“Pack his ass up as soon as possible and drag him if I have to away from Mooncrest.” He glanced at me. “Sorry in advance for whatever meltdown may be coming down the pipeline.”

I shook my head. Grace was going to flip out, but better her anger than Eason actually imploding. I shuddered. Esme was a powerful witch, and it was clear that Eason had inherited more than his fair share of power from her. His being a healer wasn’t helping. He was a ticking time bomb, and he might not even know it.

“Any other oaths?”

“None that I’ve found, but his oath in Selene was pretty extensive.”

“How much time do you think we have?”

“Not long enough.”

I nodded. “You do what has to be done… and hope that Diana has some good news for me.”

George chuckled. “Stormclaws, right? Couldn’t pick some nice, sane, sensible, easy-going lycan descendants?”

I laughed as we left the area. The untamed sprawl of the borderlands drew up around us, and soon we were in Lycan Clan territory, heading into witch lands. As soon as we crossed through a portal, the air thrummed with a different energy – wilder, primal, alive with unseen currents.

It felt like home in a way that the castle had stopped feeling after the coup.

The asphalt gave way to a narrow, cobblestone path, barely wider than the car. Sunlight filtered through the ancient canopy overhead, dappling the uneven road in a mosaic of light and shadow. The scent of woodsmoke and wildflowers mingled with the earthy musk of the forest floor. George hit the convertible button, and the top rolled back. I took a deep breath, enjoying the scent.

“I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed this… being in the States so often and for so long.”

George hummed. “Same. We should be at her shop soon. How are you feeling about this?”

I shook my head. “Hopeful and… on edge.”

“You think Grace won’t be able to handle it.”

My lips twitched. “Part of me knows she won’t.”

“Charles…”

“And so much more of me doesn’t care. She’s not Tessa.”

He snickered. “No, she’s definitely not…. Is that really going to be enough for you?”

I swallowed and found I didn’t have an answer, and George, like the great friend that he is, didn’t press me on it.”

Diana's shop was nestled at the end of a long winding path that cut through the heart of a town where I had spent some of my youth. The buildings all held that mystical, not quite right charm to them: crooked angles, mismatched shingles, and gargoyles with perpetually surprised expressions. We pulled up in front of her shop, and I smiled at it. The barrier around it shimmered with power, and I could feel her mischievous spirit in it. Whined chimes sang, more a chorus than a bunch of tinkling sounds. The door was carved with swirling runes that pulsed with an inner light and opened.

“You like it?” She asked, leaning on the doorway. “Irilwen sent it to me as a gift.”

I blinked at her and shook my head. “When are you going to allow that man to court you?”

“When he stops being so pretty.”

I snorted. “I feel bad for the poor bastard.”

I hopped out and walked up the stairs. She embraced me tightly.

“You are troubled… And you smell like werewolves.”

I laughed as she pulled back and hit me with a scent-wiping charm.

“Come on in, George. I’m sure you could use some guidance, too, with all the chaos around you two…”

Stepping inside was like crossing a threshold into another world. The air crackled with magic. Shelves overflowed with bubbling concoctions and leather-bound tomes. The scent of incense hung heavy in the air, and in the corner, a cauldron simmered, casting an eerie glow across the floor.

“I missed being in workshops more than I realized,” I said as the door closed.

I settled into the creaky chair across from her as she sat beside the cauldron and began to stir.

“You used to spend a lot of time in one,” she quipped. “Feel free to visit for fun and nostalgia some other time… Are you ready?”

I swallowed and nodded. She grabbed a cup and dipped it into the cauldron before floating it over to me. I drank it, hoping more than anything that the news would be better than before.

She smiled and tilted her head.

“Nothing?” I asked.

"The bond itself remains intact," she confirmed, her eyes gleaming. "However, something has shifted. A weakening, but also a… hardening. I cannot say if it's a positive or negative development."

I sighed and leaned forward, rubbing my head.

"There is... another connection now," she said slowly. "Growing stronger, weaving itself into your aura. Not familial, this one."

I lifted my head, hopeful. Her eyes twinkled. “Are you courting, dear prince?”

My lips twitched. “Something like that.”

“Keep at it. Bonds take many forms – between lycans and werewolves alike. How they manifest, form, and break… it's not always as straightforward as you wish."

I nodded.

“I am sorry I cannot give you the answers you hope for,” Diana said. “Though… part of me thinks you are not even sure what to hope for.”

My eyes stung, and I nodded. “I… can only hope that when the time comes, I’ll know for sure.”

Staying bonded to Tessa wasn’t the best option, but was it worse than hoping and reaching for a bond with Grace?

I didn’t know, and part of me feared never finding out.