Eden Riverwallow's Arc

Chapter 15 of 18

They stopped only when the ringing faded. Kane leaned against a birch, one hand pressed to his side. Blood darkened his jacket. Eden reached for him, but he shook his head. The willow was gone as a refuge. So was her cottage, if she wanted to speak without the house hearing. She had nowhere left that was theirs. "I need to know where you go," she said. Kane's eyes stayed on the trees behind her. "Home." "Then take me there." He looked at her for the first time since they had run. His mouth opened, closed. "No." "Kane. The tree is done. The house listens to every word. If I can't find you, I can't warn you. I can't do anything." She stepped closer. "Please." He pushed off the birch. His breath was shallow. The wound was worse than he was letting on. He took two steps and swayed. Eden caught his arm. His weight came down hard against her shoulder. "Show me," she said. "Or bleed out here." He made a low sound that might have been a laugh. Then he started walking, and she went with him. He led her uphill, then sideways along a slope she had never crossed. The trees thinned. Grey stone pushed up through the moss. He stopped at a split in the rock she would have walked past a hundred times without seeing. He ducked through it. She followed. The passage opened into a hollow the size of a small clearing, roofed by stone. A cottage sat inside it. Wood and river rock, moss along the eaves, two lit windows. A paw print was carved into the door. The air smelled of him — wet fur, cold earth, something warmer underneath. He unlocked the door with a key from his neck. He crossed the threshold and turned back to look at her. He did not invite her in. He waited. "May I?" she asked. "Yes." She stepped inside. The room was small and dim and lived-in. A stove. A bed against the far wall. A chair with a black coat folded over the back. No mirrors. No windows that faced the woods she knew. Kane sat down on the edge of the bed and finally let his hand fall away from his side. The stain underneath was worse than she had thought. His shoulders dropped. In the low light his eyes flashed yellow once and then held that color. His teeth showed. His fingers curled against the quilt and lengthened. "Kane —" "Stay," he said, through a mouth that was changing. "Or go. Choose now." She shut the door behind her and slid the bolt. He let the shift take him. Pale fur pushed up along his arms. Bone moved under skin. A long white wolf stood where the man had been, breathing hard, watching her. She sat down on the floor in front of him and did not look away.