38: FOOL

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~VANNIE~

The fight was over in minutes. The noise of the Inlanders watching from their homes became louder in victory, and Vannie came out of the space she'd been burrowed into.

The Keepers were gathering the opponents they'd kept alive and we're dragging them in the direction of the castle. Vannie supposed they were the leaders of the rebellion, and that they were going to the dungeons to get tortured.

Sin was waiting for her, still standing in the same place she'd seen him the last time. For a moment, they just took each other in, and then he spread his arms. There was nothing that could have stopped her from running into them. He kissed her head over and over again, setting her at ease enough for her to ask him, "You forgive me?"

He nodded. "And I trust you. Do you forgive me, too? For real this time?"

"I forgive you, Sinclair. And I trust you. Nothing was your fault. Nothing that happened between us was your fault." Even as she said it, years of anger threatened to force the words back. Do you? Do you really forgive him and trust him? She beat it back and focused on the now.

A rumbling sound came from his bare chest that her face was cradled against. It sounded like a sigh of relief that was centuries in the making. "It wasn't your fault, either, angel. And I'm very certain this isn't the end of our tribulations." He brought her away from himself, far enough that he could look down at her face, but not too far that he couldn't keep holding her. "All we have to do is fight together, okay? All you have to do is believe that I'll never hurt you again."

She nodded frantically. "I believe you. I'm sorry."

"Don't. Don't."

"I feel bad about seeing all these people get punished when I'm exactly like them. I led them here." She was a traitor like them.

A smug smile bloomed on Sin's mouth. "What did I tell you about my favoritism, Queen Vannie? It doesn't matter if I punish everyone, as long as you're safe and happy." That probably shouldn't have made her as relieved as it did.

"Also, you're nothing like them. They took advantage of your vulnerability, and didn't even tell you about their full plan." He lowered his voice. "They didn't tell you the truth about Enoch. And there's no need about to beat yourself up about leading them here. You remember we have a spy in the Inlands?"

Her eyes widened. "Yes! That's true! What about—" The words cut off as she felt that gaze on her again. Someone was looking at her, and it wasn't because they wanted to invite her for a casual drink. "Something isn't right, Alpha."

She turned to look through the perimeter again. But she didn't have to look long this time, because there was Crom hanging right over the gates of the Inlands. And aimed right at her, his poisoned arrow.

***

There was a time after Vannie's capture that her parents used to visit her.

They'd sit beside her in the cell, gazing down at her with blank eyes that only seemed to be vibrant whenever she cried. "We're dead. This is all in your head," they would always announce helpfully, as though she didn't know it already. As though they were trying to preserve a slice of her sanity. If she knew that they were dead, then she wasn't mad, right?

Sometimes, they'd be nice and gentle with her, telling her all their exciting adventures in the lands beyond. Other times, they'd sit across from her, watching her with both pity and disgust. "It's your fault we're dead, you know?" They'd ask, and even though Vannie knew she had nothing to do with their deaths, hot tears would still flow from her eyes, and her throat would still burn with pain.

All of that agony was the fucking tip of the iceberg compared to what she was feeling now. She'd seen the arrow aimed at her her — poisoned, if the blazing tip was any indication. She'd seen Crom's triumphant smirk as he nocked, then shot. She watched the trajectory of the weapon, knew without a doubt that it would kill her.

And then came the startling realization that no, she didn't want to die, after all. Or maybe she did, but she didn't want to die as Crom's fool. Foolish girl. He said he wanted to kill the King, but that was a lie, wasn't it?

It was her. She'd been the target since day one.

Magick born out of anger and hatred made her blood boil even as the weapon inched closer to her heart. And then — that one startling moment when she realized that it was too close, she was too frozen, and she wouldn't be able to get away from it in time.

But no, she'd rather die by her own sword that at Croms, she'd kill him, she'd do something — but then, there was the large body of the King, taking the choice out of her hands.

He didn't need to do anything else but move lightning-quick and push her out of the way. But that didn't go unpunished, of course, because the arrow was lodged deep in his heart. It was deep enough for it to have an exit point at his back.

There was a rather mournful howl then as Sin hit the ground, and it took a moment for her to realize that it came from her mouth.

Ah, yes, she'd discounted the sting principle, hadn't she? If a wolf got hurt, their mate felt the pain to a degree. Just like he'd felt the ache in her ears that first night the Inlands was attacked. She was no stranger to pain. But she thought that for the very first time, she could feel it in its purest, most raw form.

Sin knew that she'd worked hand-in-hand with the Crinites to kill him. Sin also jumped in the way of an arrow meant for her without thought, without hesitation. And there was no fucking way he didn't see that it was poisoned — the tip had practically dripped from the flame.

"Sin," she chanted as her magick came to life with the force of a thousand bricks. "Sin, don't worry, okay? I'll be there before you can even blink. Just wait for me, okay?"

And then she just burst. Charging through her was a sharp surge of energy she'd never felt before, because she'd never been this mad before. Not even after losing her life and being relegated to a dungeon. Not even then.

Crom's neck was beneath her fist before she knew that she'd moved, and he was looking up at her with startled, hopeful eyes. "We did it, Your Majesty. We killed the Alpha."

But she was not listening. A single flick of her wrist had her captive spluttering blood from his mouth, and she didn't stop pressing down till the light went from his eyes. She had no way of knowing he was dead, but she kept at it long after he went unconscious.

She ran back to the place her mate was lying, and there was already his Keepers gathered around him, trying to lift him. All her thinking faculties had gone on lockdown, and all that remained was how Sinclair mustn't die. He must not die. How could he?

Without thinking, she ran her fang through her arm in a straight, long line, and watched as her blood fell into his deep wound. It made a sizzling sound as they made contact, and Vannie closed her eyes as the first tear dropped.

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