Chapter 241

Grace

Hours after my talk with Eason, the heavy oak door of the packhouse swung shut behind me. The weight of the day settled onto my shoulders and slowly slipped off as I breathed in the familiar scent of home. I walked into the living area. I found Esme curled up on the couch, a book in her lap, but her gaze fixed on me with an intensity that made me nervous.

"Welcome home," she said, her voice laced with concern as she set her book down. "How did the meeting with Eason go?"

I hesitated, the encounter replaying in my mind.

"It was… strange," I finally admitted, sinking onto the couch opposite her. "He didn't say much, but what he did say was… cryptic... and he's leaving back to Northfall."

Esme leaned forward, her eyes searching mine. "What do you mean, cryptic?"

I recounted the details of the conversation and his apology. As I spoke, I noticed Esme's frown deepening, her brow furrowed in worry.

"Do you know what's gotten into him? He was in jeans."

Her lips twitched. "Additions to his wardrobe for the height, I'm sure."

I wasn't completely sold on that, but I nodded.

Esme smiled. "There will be time to unravel Eason's secrets later," she said, her voice gentle yet firm. "For now, you need to rest. You look exhausted. How have you been feeling today?"

I reached up and touched my face, surprised by the heaviness in my eyelids and the ache in my bones. I hadn't ever been this tired, this achy... Maybe I needed more than that one night's sleep.

"I am a bit tired," I admitted, surprised by the ease with which the words left my lips. "But I think it's just the stress."

Just then, Cecil's little feet came rushing down the hall. She flew into the living room with a big, wide smile.

"Mommy, guess what?" she exclaimed, her voice brimming with childish wonder. "I found a shiny rock outside!"

She held out his hand, revealing a smooth, grey pebble that glinted in the lamplight. I smiled, about to respond, when she gasped.

"Mommy, you have a star hair!" She pointed at my head.

I frowned. "A star hair?"

"Kelly says that's what her grandma called them." I reached up and pulled my hair around to look.

A stray strand of hair caught my eye. It was a single strand of bright white, almost silver, in my dark hair. I shifted my hair around and found more than one.

Grey.

My hair was going grey.

A jolt of ice shot through me. My smile faltered, replaced by a look of dawning horror. I hadn't had a single grey hair a week ago. Now, there it was. I shouldn't have had grey hair at all. Charles had a full head of dark hair! I didn't smell dye on him. I thought he said the lycan genes would undo some of the werewolf curse.

Eason had a head of dark hair, and sure, he was younger than me, but he'd been under a lot more stress. Panic clawed at my throat, threatening to suffocate me. I looked at Esme, my eyes wide with terror. The answer to my unspoken question hung heavy in the air, a silent confirmation of my worst fears.

The room seemed to shrink, the walls pressing in on me as I stared at the silver strands in my hair. Esme's face, etched with concern, blurred at the edges. My breaths came in ragged gasps, each one a desperate attempt to hold back the rising tide of panic.

"Esme," I croaked, my voice barely above a whisper. "What… what does this mean?"

"I don't think we should talk about it just yet."

I looked down at Cecil and forced myself to smile. "Star hair, hm? That sounds nice."

"I think it's pretty," Cecil said and hugged me. "You look tired, mommy. Are you going to sleep soon?"

I stroked her head. "After dinner, probably."

Charles entered the living room, looking nervous. Had he seen the gray strands this morning and said nothing? Had they been there this morning? I sent Cecil off as he came in. He gave her a tight hug and whispered something to her that had her bounding away with an excited giggle. Then, he came to sit with us, setting a stack of books on the coffee table.

Esme's gaze held a deep sadness but also a steely resolve. "It means time is running out, Grace."

I shook my head. "Don't say that. I'm half lycan. I thought this should be a problem."

Esme looked at Charles, who took my hand. Dread filled my heart. Part of me already knew what he was going to say; I just didn't know the words for it.

"Just listen to her for now," Charles said. "It's important for you to know."

He squeezed my hand. "Things are... going to be different now."

I didn't want to listen, but Esme told me about the Stormclaw curse and blessing. I couldn't believe it.

"And so what?" I croaked. "So I'm no longer half werewolf?"

"No longer... half lycan."

A raw anger coursed through me, pushing aside the fear and confusion. I needed answers, and I needed them now. My mind went to Eason.

"The thing he couldn't take back..."

"Grace--"

I jumped to my feet and rushed through the house, searching for Eason. If there was one person in this house who could and would give me answers, it was him.

"Grace, wait!"

I stormed out the back door, ignoring the worried calls of Esme and Charles. I found Eason in the clearing. His back turned as he meticulously fired arrows of light at a distant target. He didn't turn as I approached, but his shoulders tensed, betraying his awareness of my arrival.

"Eason," I began, my voice laced with a steely edge, "we need to talk."

He remained silent, the only sound the rhythmic squealing hiss of light shooting through the air.

"What did you do?" I demanded, my voice rising. "What did you do to me? What's happening to me?"

My question hung in the air. He didn't turn to me. I rushed around to face him.

"I know enough. I've looked up enough about Selenne and what kind of training you had to have had between there and Northfall. I can guess that if you can cut out a whole part of me, then you can answer me! I want answers. I need to know how much time I have without the drug."

Eason finally looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and pain.

"It wouldn't be helpful, Grace," he said, his voice low and strained. "Knowing wouldn't change anything."

"It changes everything," I countered, my voice thick with emotion. "I deserve to know how much time I have left. I deserve to make choices based on my own reality, not guesses, and you're the only one who can give them to me."

My eyes burned. "Eason, please."

"I think you should focus on formulating a more affordable--"

"I don't want to spend my last few weeks in a lab, Eason!" I hissed. "Hoping to give myself more time when I could be enjoying it...

He looked at me. "It not s few weeks. You can crack it within a month."

I narrowed my eyes. "How can you be so sure about that?"

He smiled. "I called in some favors... and you're the Science Queen, Grace. A month is the most time it should take."

I looked up at him. "Fine. I don't want to spend my last month chasing this. I can hand it over."

He shook his head. "Margaret isn't going to stay without you."

My jaw trembled. "Just... tells me. I'm trying not to be a fucking coward right now. So tell me!"

"It's more than a few months."

I narrowed my eyes. "Will I even get to finish this damn challenge? The Senate seat? Do I have time for any of that?"

"Yes."

"And my children?" I asked, looking up at him. "I... Eason... Please!"

My voice cracked as my mind whirled at the thought.

Would I just fall dead in the Senate seat? Would I live until I was forty? I looked over at Charles. How much time did I really have? Did I care about Mooncrest enough to give up my last year for it? Eason was leaving Mooncrest. I could send the kids to Charles as his would-be adopted children/grandchildren... And if I had more time, would it be enough time?

"I need to know."

He hesitated for a long moment, the internal struggle evident in his clenched jaw and narrowed eyes. He closed his eyes and looked down before nodding.

"Okay."

My vision blurred as a wave of energy washed over me. I felt it sweeping through me. I saw Esme and Charles looking like the world was going to end, and nothing could change that. The spell felt warm and gentle.

Then, a scroll materialized in his hands, and he gave it to me.

My hands shook as I opened it. Eason looked away. As I scanned the words, my vision swam, and tears blurred the words, but I knew what they said.

A wail of grief escaped me. I crumpled the page, wishing for it to change. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't breathe.

Life Expectancy: Five years maximum, likely 1-2 years.