I shake my head to clear it. First things first—my people need my help. While I could not save them the first time, I’ve been given a second chance. I will review my research and, if I can make a cure, I’ll send my whisps out with it.
In the meantime, I set the whisps to continue cleaning the castle. One of them is missing. I wonder if it escaped with the female. That would be another sign of my waning power. But if that is the case, it could prove useful, since I must find her again.
I have to know if my suspicions are true. If she is an Omega, that could change everything. Possibilities I had ruled out forever could suddenly be within my grasp.
I hardly dare to hope, but if Ulf has truly seen fit to send an Omega to me, I know one thing for sure…
I will make her mine.
FIVE
Rose
A gust of wind whispers across my face, waking me. My window must have blown open again.
My legs are aching like I’ve run a marathon. My arms are hurting like I was gardening all day—which is kind of true. I hacked my way up a mountain, and ran back down with the wind at my back. On my way out of the castle, the gate swung open as if by magic, and the vines behaved themselves. They seemed as cowed by the blood-curdling roar as I was.
Rolling over onto my belly, I pull the pillow over my head, and groan. My mission was a complete failure.
I went to petition the king, and all I got to show for it were some lousy scratches from his overly aggressive shrubbery. Not even a t-shirt.
Was that shadowy, hulking figure the king? Why did no one tell me he was a giant, roaring beast? I’ve seen plenty of big Alphas at the market, but his enormous, imposing frame was a whole new level of terrifying. His face was in shadow because of the hood, but he was ridiculously tall.
His scent was amazing. The memory makes my mouth water.
But his brutal roar still echoes in my head.
“Fuck him,” I whisper, rolling back over and staring at the ceiling. Maybe no one knows the king is like this because he’s been lurking in seclusion all this time.
A breeze caresses my face. Something flutters in the corner of my eye. Sitting up, I look around properly for the first time since I woke up. During the night, the vines crept in through my open window and twined over my bed. My room is filled with flowers.
“Are you kidding me?” I push a dangling bloom out of my face, slide off the bed and stomp to the window. Before I reach it, the wind pushes it shut.
That’s weird. Wind doesn’t typically blow from inside a house. I recall the wind and the strange occurrences last night—before I got roared at.
“It’s not magic. There’s a perfectly logical explanation.”
My closet door flies open and a dress comes fluttering out. It hangs in the air like someone’s holding it, but no one is there.
I can’t shut my gaping mouth. “How—”
The gown shakes, twirls around, and drapes itself across the bed. A gust of wind rushes around my room, making my bed, straightening the crooked quilt, dusting off my dresser. It even lifts my boots into the air, whips around them in a mini tornado, and sets them down, perfectly polished.
My knees give out and I sag back down onto my neatly made bed.
Apparently, I did get another souvenir from my wasted trip to see the king: my own personal poltergeist.
“Okay. I'm sure there’s an explanation for this,” I repeat.
The wind ruffles my skirts, reassuringly.
I run a hand over my head and wince. I didn’t wrap my hair last night and my braids are worse for wear. My fingertips catch on something and I pluck it out: a piece of vine with a moonflower bud.
“Can you do something about this?” I wave a hand over my head.
The wind gusts and swirls around me.
My braids unravel and then reform in a second. I touch my head. The rows are perfect. My only issue with it is the flower that got tucked behind my ear. I pull it out and shake it in the air. “No more of these.”
The wind whips around the room, gathering all the vines and flowers. The window blows open long enough for the bundle to be tossed out the window.
In three seconds, my bedroom is clear of all plant life.
“All right. Okay. As long as there are no dancing mice.”
A sound outside my bedroom makes me freeze.
Someone’s moving around downstairs.
An intruder?
Floorboards creak, and dishes clatter. And someone is humming; they sound like—
“Ma,” I whisper, and hurry out of my room.
Ma is settling into her usual chair with her tea as I race down the stairs. “You’re awake!”
“Of course, I am, child. Unlike some, I prefer to be up with the dawn.” She lifts her tea to her face but her mouth is curving so wide, the cup can’t hide her smile.
“But… how?”
She nods to the table. “I awoke with my window open, and this potion within reach.”
The little wind ruffles the mini-scroll attached to the bottle with golden thread. The alien lettering is neatly scripted but I can’t make out a word. My translation chip only works on sound. I’m stuck on a planet where I can no longer read. Not that Ma or anyone in the village has many books.
“I can’t read what it says,” I say, trying to hide my frustration. “My chip doesn’t work on the written word.”
“It’s from the king.” She reaches for it, and I hand it to her. “‘If you are touched by the Red Death,” she reads, “take three drops of this potion once a day until the rash has disappeared. Every house has received a bottle. If you are feeling well, please give your dose to someone who needs it. Blessings be upon you all.”
“He did it,” I whisper.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing. Would you like some more tea?” I turn to the counter but the wind gusts past me. The pot floats in the air, tipping sideways to pour tea into a floating cup.
“Stop that,” I mutter, blocking the sight with my body and snatching both pot and cup out of the air. How am I going to explain I went to a haunted castle and came back with a rogue magic wind?
“Rose,” Ma says. “Are you feeling all right?”
“Yes?” My cheeks are a bit hot. Not feverish. I’m achy, but that’s from climbing up to the castle, and I’m not going to admit that to Ma. “I didn’t sleep too well.” I carry my tea over to sit in the seat opposite her. Like all furniture here, the chair is Ulfarri-sized, so it swallows my smaller frame. I feel like Goldilocks in the bears’ cabin. “Why? Do I look different?”
She studies me, a furrow between her brows. “You look fine. Lovely, as always. But there’s something about your scent—”
“Right.” I wince and set my tea down. “I got in late last night. I should probably bathe—”
“No, it’s not that. It smells nice.”
“Oh, that. That’s the moonflowers. They’re growing all over the place.” Like in my bedroom, up the walls…
“Yes, I suppose. You’ve been taking your medicine?”
Oops. I knew I’d forgotten something. “I’ll take it right away.” I hurry to the cupboard. Better not admit to Ma I missed my dose yesterday. “We’re out of boola berries.” The bowl that holds the herbs I need has nothing but a few sad leaves clinging to the bottom. “And keeba leaf.”