Chapter 32

I rub my eye the next morning, all hazy, and glance down at the bottom of the bed where Anton still lays in his wolf form.

And I scowl, feeling sorry and sleepy and still a little mad.

My wolf nips me. Stubborn, she growls.

I just huff a sigh and glare down at my chest, where I imagine she lives. Look who’s talking, I toss back at her – she who never, ever gives up on a point when she sets her teeth in it.

Apologize! She snaps, shaking out her fur in preparation for the day. Because it’s going to be a big one and we both know it.

But I ignore her advice, crawling forward to inspect Anton a bit when I realize that he’s genuinely sleeping, not just pretending to. He’s a very handsome wolf, I think, with fine lines and a nicely shaped face.

He has both of those as a boy, too, my wolf reminds me, trotting around proudly with her tail held high.

I just sigh and climb out of bed, getting started with my day, passively wondering what color Anton’s wolf is in real life.

At first I attempt to be quiet, sneaking on tip-toe to the bathroom for my morning ablutions and then taking utmost care to ensure that my vanity chair doesn’t scrape across the floor as I pull it back to sit down. But as I go through my entire routine of fixing my hair, and putting on makeup, and flicking through several outfits for my day, I become more and more heedless with my noise, getting impatient.

By the time I’m dressed in a tight black top and flowing grey pants – both comfortable and chic - drinking my second cup of coffee, standing in front of Anton, watching his little ghost breaths puff out his ribcage with perfect calm, I’m downright trying to be loud.

“God damn ghost boys,” I sigh, clanging my coffee cup onto its saucer. “You’d be useless as a soldier, sleeping through every battle. Uncle Roger would have no use for you.”

I smirk at the thought, thinking that the two of them would probably get along quite well. But then I sigh and stomp towards the door, impatient to get started and honestly still a little miffed at him for all the lies. Even if I am just as guilty.

And I still haven’t apologized.

“Sleep well!” I call over my shoulder, stepping outside and banging the door shut as I start to walk down the hall.

I stride confidently at first, but then when the tether starts to pull at the center of my belly, right behind my navel, I hesitate. I take a few more steps, tugging hard, stretching it to its tightest point, my teeth gritted with the effort –

When suddenly the strain disappears and Anton puffs into existence at my side, gasping in surprise, his hands tossed out to the side as he catches his balance.

“Juniper!” he breathes, shocked, staring at me, stumbling a little. “What – what the fuck –“

“Oh, he’s finally up!” I say, giving him a cheeky grin and again striding down the hall.

“June!” he shouts, appearing in front of me with his hands out as if to grab my shoulders. “Don’t fucking do that! I was –“

“We’ve got places to be Anton!” I say, bitterly cheerful, striding right through him.

He gasps and a chill passes through me, which is a bit of a surprise, but I leave him behind. He appears in front of me again, one hand on his hip, a finger pointed directly at my face.

“Well, this is a fun new trick,” I say, stopping about a foot in front of that finger, turning my head to the side in consideration. “This disappearing and reappearing thing.”

“I –“ he stops for a second, considering my words and glancing down at himself. “Okay, yes. I didn’t know I could do that. But still!” He whips his head back up, frowning hard at me. “Don’t fucking do that, Juniper! With the tether! I could have – disappeared! You could have broken it, and I’d have been nothing!”

“Oh, you didn’t die,” I sigh, waving a hand at him in dismissal and dodging around, heading for the set of stairs we took on the first day when we went to the Palace by ourselves without calling Nic. After all, we’re headed for the same place.

“I’m already dead! So that’s not a great barometer by which to judge your choices!”

“You’re fine!” I call, giving him a withering little look over my shoulder as we move quickly down the stairs. “Besides, I never would have gone so far as to break it. You were just sleeping for hours - there was no other way to get you up!”

“Did you try waking me?” he bites out. “A quiet little, ‘Oh, Anton! Would you please awake for the day!?’”

“No,” I sigh, quite pleased with myself, even if my wolf growls in my soul and calls me a brat. “But then again, I don’t bother with niceties for liars. And you are a liar.”

He grumbles quietly behind me for a second. “Yeah, well, so are you.”

“Well then we’re quite the pair,” I say, turning to give him my prettiest Ariel smile. He stumbles over his feet for a second, I think recognizing the expression. After all, our faces are nearly identical, even if I am paler and have dyed my hair black.

Anton scowls at me but then moves silently forward when I do, my handmaid again, bid to help me.

And deep down, I know that it’s more than that – whatever lies we’ve told, whatever Anton and I are is more than just a Princess and her assigned handmaid. And I know that I’m being unfair.

I’m just…not ready to give up my pettiness just yet. And I don’t know why. I’m just…not there.

I sigh discreetly through my nose, wishing that I was.

Ariel would be, my wolf hisses, nasty. She’d be nice to him and forgive him and tell him she was sorry.

Yeah well, I growl back, glaring down at my chest. I’m not Ari, am I?

Anton and I move briskly down the steps and then out of the building, heading for the palace steps like we did before. It’s only then that he gives into his curiosity – because even if he pretends to have the high moral ground, Anton is nearly as stubborn as I am.

“June, where are we even going?” he grumbles.

“Inside,” I say, quite cheerful, picking up my pace. Because the closer we get to our destination, the less chance he has to talk me out of it.

Realizing my intentions, Anton again flicks in front of me, glaring hard. “Juniper.”

I again dodge around him, starting to jog now.

“June!” he snaps, starting to get freaked out and also pissed off.

I grin a little, because this is better than just being sad and disappointed in each other. I continue to run up the steps as fast as I can.

“Juniper Sinclair!” He appears before me right before the doors as I pant, reaching for them. “Don’t you dare go in there without at least telling me what’s going on.”

“Well,” I say, my breath huffing, my hands on my hips. “Now that you know my secret, time to act on it, right?”

Anton’s face freezes in shock as he tries to figure out my cryptic message and I use the opportunity to reach behind him, grabbing the huge door’s wide handle and pulling hard on it. I slip through when the door opens just enough to let me pass and Anton comes with me. I feel the lovely tingle of him at my side with every step, pressing against me, making me acknowledge him.

“June,” he growls. “We are not doing what I think we’re doing, right?”

“Oh, we’re doing precisely that,” I say, looking up into his face as I stride for the center of the room – for the pit – for the door within it.

“Please,” he says, shaking his head, his eyes going wide. “June – I think this is a very bad idea –“

“The whole reason I came to the underworld, Anton,” I say, glancing up at him as I start down the spiral of stairs into the pit, “was to find Blythe. Now we know this is where he is. We have to go…find him at least. Make sure he’s okay.”

“But we have no idea what’s behind this door –“

“Blythe is behind this door,” I snap, gesturing towards it as we walk towards it, each of our steps in tune. “My fiancé? The person I gambled away my life for?”

Anton moves ahead of me, stretching his arms across the door, blocking me in spirit if not effectually. He vehemently shakes his head. “He’s not worth it, June.”

I clench my teeth, angry again. “Who the hell are you to judge him, Anton?”

“I knew this guy –“

“So did I!” I shout, my arms stiff at my side.

Anton goes silent, closing his mouth, tacitly admitting my point. That I was – am – engaged to Blythe. That I might, might know him a little better.

Might, my wolf says, giving me a little nudge.

“Look, a debate for another time,” Anton says, his voice soft and a little panicked, looking around the empty pit and the room beyond. “Either way, let’s talk about this, Juniper – anything could be beyond this portal –“

“This discussion is done,” I snap, storming forward with my hand out flat. “We’re going.”

My hand smacks flat on the black door, a cold rush sweeping through my body.

And then I push, and it swings open, and I step through into the Deadlands.