Chapter 68

Evelyn

The days were a blur.

Between stitching up infected wounds, gathering and crushing herbs to make medicine, and avoiding Jesse as skillfully as I could, I was utterly exhausted. The only benefit to it all was that I was left with hardly any time to think about Logan.

Logan, with his soft eyes watching me in my tent, begging me to run away with him. Logan, and the disappointment he couldn’t completely hide when I’d told him no.

I barely had time to eat, let alone breathe, but this was all by design. I needed to stay distracted and keep busy. The rogue camp had a rhythm now, and I moved through it like it was muscle memory.

The other rogues were beginning to warm to me, even the gruff ones who merely nodded tersely no longer did so with a glare. Most of even the toughest soldiers muttered a tired “thank you” after I finished tending to them.

It was strange how easily they took to me and the small kindnesses they were eager to offer, even if the kindness here came with whispers. They were not in grand gestures, but I felt it all the same.

But not even their warm demeanor could stave off the prospect of gossip.

That afternoon, while I was wrapping a boy’s broken wrist, I overheard two scouts murmuring just outside the tent.

“Think she knows he’s sweet on her?” one said, not bothering to lower his voice. He did not seem to care who overheard.

“He asks about her all the time,” the other muttered. “Can’t blame him, really. She’s got that caring thing going on. But Jesse… Well, I never thought he would be the caring sort. And he has always valued status before. But now he wants to get with a lowly healer? Seems odd to me.”

I kept my hands steady even as my heart picked up. They were talking about Jesse. And me. It felt surreal to hear myself discussed in such a context, especially when I had been avoiding him like a sickness since he had revealed that he knew my secret.

And besides, I didn’t feel like his favorite. He was unpredictable. Half the time, he would flirt with me, and half the time, his words would be sharpened with a threat. But he was never gentle, never soft.

Still, I supposed it was true that he hadn’t laid a hand on me since I arrived, when he had torn me from my cage by the hair. Maybe that was something. Especially when he had every opportunity and no one here would dare stop him in his own camp.

Maybe he was holding back because of what he knew. Because I was the Alpha King’s daughter. Or maybe it was because I was Logan’s wife, and he was waiting for the most effective time to use me to hurt him. Either way, I knew better than to provoke him.

So I was careful and polite. I was cordial, even, though I avoided him as much as I could for good measure. I would do anything to keep the fragile thread of diplomacy from snapping.

When the sun dipped and my shift ended, I returned to my tent with sore shoulders and aching fingers. I was in the middle of peeling off my outer tunic when the flap rustled.

I turned, startled.

Jesse stood in the entrance, a half-smile playing on his lips and a dark, small cask cradled in one arm like a child.

“It has been so long since we’ve spoken, Princess. I come bearing peace,” he said, lifting the wine slightly.

I blinked. “I didn’t know we were in need of an olive branch.”

He stepped in without waiting for an invitation, settling on the low stool near my cot like he owned the place. And, well, I supposed he did, but his casual arrogance put me on edge. I folded my arms over my chest, wishing I’d left my tunic on. Any degree of separation between me and him was appreciated.

“Oh, please. Let us not be coy,” he said. “I know you’ve been avoiding me. And from the sounds of it, you’ve had a long, busy week. You deserve something better than water to cap off the day.”

He uncorked the wine and poured two cups with practiced ease. I sat across from him, wary but calm.

“Just one glass,” I said, accepting it. It felt impossible to refuse him.

“Of course,” he said smoothly, lifting his own.

We clinked them together. His eyes never left mine, and they watched intensely as I raised the glass to my lips.

I took a small sip, just enough to be polite. It was dark and heavy, more bitter than sweet. I wrinkled my nose slightly.

He laughed. “Too strong? I promise it’s the good kind. Aged to perfection and some of the best we have in our stores. ”

“No,” I said slowly. “It’s just… different.”

He raised his cup again, but I noticed he didn’t drink as deeply. In fact, I wasn’t sure his throat had even bobbed as he swallowed. My stomach turned, just slightly, but he began speaking about his own week before I could outwardly question it.

We kept chatting, mostly about nothing. His stories drifted from his time in exile to the people in the camp who owed him their loyalty. Mostly, he spoke of the strife of the war he had created and declared. He updated me on casualties.

But I was only half-listening. I didn’t care about anything beyond the updates about Logan’s soldiers, gathering the crumbs of information he gave me. Eventually, my mouth started to feel dry, and my head was growing oddly heavy.

Another sip, trying to stay composed. I didn’t want him to see the panic beginning to stir behind my ribs as my heart rate began to rise unbidden. I was feeling flushed all over, my head dizzy like I was thinking through a haze. He grinned as he watched me swallow.

And then it hit me. The aftertaste. Lingering and somewhat metallic. And for once, Jesse was not indulging. So it was not wine after all. It couldn’t be. In fact, it tasted like the way people described…

Mal root.

It was a rare root warned against by healers. I had read about its taste and effects in my studies. Though it was not usually fatal, it was enough to knock out a wolf twice my size.

I looked at Jesse sharply, but the tent seemed to tilt as I moved my head.

“You—” I began, but my tongue felt too thick.

He caught my cup before it spilled. “You’ll be fine, Evelyn,” he said softly, crouching beside me. “Just sleep.”

I tried to push him away. Tried to reach for anything. My limbs wouldn’t move. They felt so heavy, so impossibly leaden, it was like moving my arms through water.

“Why?” I managed to whisper.

He leaned close, his breath warm on my skin.

“Because peace,” he murmured, “requires control. And you’re still playing both sides.”

I wanted to scream or shift or run. But all I could do was drift away.

The darkness came faster than I could fight it, dragging me down until there was nothing left but silence and Jesse’s face hovering above me. His victorious grin was the last thing I saw before it all disappeared behind a wall of black.