Rescued by Ryland: Deep River Shifters ( Book 1) by Lisa Daniels (37)

Chapter Three

Give in.

Yarrow blinked her eyes open.  It took a moment for her to register what she saw.  Above her was dense wooden beams – the safety of a house.  A cabin. 

She was in a bed.

A nice, warm bed.  She breathed in the smell of incense, and spotted her father, asleep in wolf form at the foot of her bed, and her mother slumped in a chair.

Give in.

Confusion floated.

The lightning.  The dark energy.  The Supreme.  The fight, with Shadows disintegrating, werewolves dying…

She checked inside herself for the familiar font of magic, and frowned.  Something felt off.  Hollow. 

Yarrow examined her arms, and a jolt of icy panic hit her.  Her veins were black.  Corruption filled her from the inside.

Give in.

Her resulting scream woke up her mother and father, and brought in two other people, though at this point, Yarrow didn’t care.

What the moon was this?  Why couldn’t she feel her magic?  Why was there the hollow essence inside?  And why did she feel something scratching at her brain?

A gibbering madness.  Asking her to give in.  To become one with the darkness inside.

Give in.

“Get it out!  Get it out!  Make it stop!”  Yarrow thrashed in bed, desperate, hysterical and terrified.  Her mother started sobbing, her father barked and whimpered, and there were voices all around her, other people rushing in as she screamed and screamed and screamed.

Give in.

“Ssh.  Ssh.  It’s okay.  It’ll be alright.”  Yarrow latched onto the speaker, focusing on them in her blind terror.

“Raine?”

The enchantment witch’s eyes stared sadly as she stroked Yarrow’s forehead.  Another witch, dressed up like the inhabitants of the Spine, watched over them, with Erlandur hovering in the background with Vrin.

“Can you hear?  Can you understand?”

Give in.

“T-t-there’s something in my head.  There’s something in my head.”  Yarrow began clawing at her forehead, crying, and Raine took her hands away, her beautiful face creased up.

“It’s taking her over.  Just like with my mother.  She’ll be a Shadow at this rate, even with what I’m doing.”

Priya gave a loud, heart rending wail.  “No!  Not my daughter.  Please…”

Erlandur clanked in closer, his dark blue eyes narrowed.  “Is there nothing you can do, witches?”

“I can only siphon the blood.  Delay it,” Raine said.  “Like I’ve been doing for the past week.  It’s not an ideal solution.”

The past week?  How long have I been out?

Then, again, insidious, invasive: Give in.

The voice got louder with each iteration, first like a heartbeat, now like an insisting thumping, a cacophonous noise that threatened to drown out everything else.

Her soul sank, as the realization dug in.  “I’m turning into a Shadow?”

No one spoke for a moment.  Then, Raine nodded.  “Yes.  I can draw some blood out of you now, delay it…”

“But you can’t stop it?”

“No.”

Give in.

Raine took out a syringe, holding the needle over a candle flame.  “My mother tried everything to fight it.  But she knew she was losing.  She said… she described a voice.  Something that kept telling her to give in.  She said it consumed her mind.”

A beat.  Give in.

“I hear it.  The same words.  ‘Give in.’  Nothing else.”

Raine checked to make sure it was alright, before sticking the needle in, and siphoning murky gray-red blood into the syringe.  A horrible, draining sensation, along with the pinch of pain made her lie back, dizzy.  The needle retracted, and Yarrow breathed in relief.

“It’s a signal,” Erlandur said then. 

Yarrow squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then clutched at Raine’s hand.  “Where are we?”

“The Fractured Spine,” Raine answered.  “We repelled the attack.  And we made it to the clan.  Not without some losses.  About forty-three werewolves died.  But hundreds of Shadows died.”

“And the Supreme?”

Give in.

“Got away,” Erlandur grunted.  “But when it went, the Shadows stopped attacking.”

Disappointment crashed.  After everything, they didn’t kill the Supreme.  Even with Erlandur.  They had lost numbers.  They achieved nothing.

And they hadn’t even made it to the Fractured City yet.

“What will happen to my daughter?”  Hragun snarled.  “Will she die?  Is it inevitable?  Is there nothing anyone can do?”

Raine stared at Erlandur, and the undead wolves that hovered outside.  Erlandur set his jaw.  “There are some options, but you’re not going to like any of them.”

Give in.

“Let’s hear them,” Yarrow said, attempting to inject some enthusiasm into her tone.  Everyone looked at her as though she was dead already.

I’m not dead yet.  I still have breath.

“One.  You become a Shadow.  We imprison you, and use your blood to help make weapons and armor.”  He snapped his fingers as Hragun grunted, displeased and disgusted with the idea.  “Two.  We kill you.  Nothing else.  Three. We try and delay this and figure out something else, somehow.  Four… I turn you into one of these.”  He indicated the undead wolves.  “A fighting undead witch.  But you will have no mind of your own.”

Give in.

At this, Priya reached a hand across to rest in on Yarrow’s stomach.  “No.  Absolutely not.  My daughter will not become… an aberration.  Anything but to see her face… devoid.  Lifeless.”

“I do not know how the undead spell will work for a witch, though,” Erlandur admitted, ignoring Priya’s concern.  “And there is one more option.”

“Tell me,” Yarrow croaked, desperate for any answer to her predicament.

“Don’t give in.”

Raine gaped.  “What?”  A sliver of grief infused her expression.  “But…”

“I know your mother died.  I know it became too much for her,” he said, though there was no kindness in his voice.  “But perhaps if Yarrow learns to deal with the voice, she might be okay.  Though she won’t have the same magic as before.”

Don’t… give in?  Easier said than done.  The voice kept pounding at her subconscious, weakening her resolve, lowering her mental barriers.

Give in.

“She’ll need someone with her at all times, to make sure she doesn’t fail.  Or to trap her if she starts converting.”  Erlander said in a matter of fact tone.  “There’s something I want to talk to her about, though.  In private.  Please leave us for a moment.”

Reluctantly, everyone left, though Yarrow’s mother and father took the longest to leave.

Yarrow glared at him in suspicion.  The magic she reviled now pulsed through her veins, corrupted her skin.

“Let me tell you something I haven’t admitted to anyone else.”  Erlandur leaned closer then, his breath heating her ear, making her shiver.  “I hear the voice every day as well.”  He revealed a part of his arm, normally concealed under a long fitting sleeve.  Black veins protruded.  “It’s not easy.  And you must always be vigilant.  But it is possible.”

He squeezed her hand briefly, before leaving, letting the others pour back in again.

Yarrow let their concerns wash over her.

Give in.

She gritted her teeth.  The voice didn’t go away.

It might never stop.