7

~Faye

I don’t have a secret. Not one that I know of, anyway.

He’s just saying this to get into my head, I know it. Apparently Cal has not been brought to light about his manipulations, and won’t put the trial ahead, like I have requested. Apparently there isn’t a judge available until the time that has been put in place. 

I don’t know if I will survive till then.

The worst part is the idea of him sitting down in that cell, knowing who knows what, potentially planning my demise. I want to know everything about him. His past, his present, even his future. I’m not going down there again, though. He has an all knowing look about him, and at this point, isn’t about to answer any of my questions. 

A chill flutters down my back. Right now, I sit at the foot of my bed, thinking. It’s typically easy for me to get lost in thought, especially recently. Now, as I sit here, I feel watched, and not just because Cal is standing outside my door.

Swiftly, I stand, deciding to open the door and confront him. Everything has been odd between us since I told him I let T out of his cell. I can’t explain to him why I did it. It was just a...feeling.

He doesn’t startle, even with the ferocity of which I throw the door open. 

“Is everything okay, Alpha?” he questions. Since the issue with T, Cal has been ridged with me, like his job is suddenly a more serious matter. Even though it’s late at night, he still stands tall, hands clasped behind his back with two glistening knives slotted into his belt. He’s ready for anything, including an assassin..

For a moment I forgot what I wanted to say, as I shake my head, leaning my body against the doorframe. “I just wanted to tell you I’m going to sleep.”

“I’ll be out here,” he replies, before he turns back around. “I’ve decided to be less intrusive and stay out here, while you sleep.”

“So you’re to stay up all night?”

He shrugs. “There may be another Guard who will swap out with me, or at least wake me if you decide to go walking down to the assassins cell. I know you’re Alpha, but this is for your own safety.”

I'm used to be told what is good for me by my mother, so the action of slamming the door on his face was beyond satisfying. He wasn't about to protest either, knowing it would mean nothing to me. My plan is to sleep this off, wake up in the morning, and fight to get T’s trail put forward. 

My plan didn't go as I hoped it would. 

The darkness is split by moonlight when I wake. There's no way of telling the time, as I lie in bed, staring at the roof. I've never felt so awake. My body must be getting used to waking up at night, because right now, I could go for a run. The moment the idea comes into my mind, I can't get it out. Groaning, I pull myself out of bed. 

Cal must be outside my door still. He happened to have forgotten my window, I suppose. At the idea of Cal, the experienced Huntsman, completely forgetting my go-to escape route makes me smile. 

Sliding out of bed, I place my feet tentatively on the ground. Hopefully Cal is asleep, having instructed a different Guard to stand post. My Guards are trained well, but none of them have the experience Cal does. The moment the floor creaks in protest of my weight, I cringe. 

Glancing toward the door, I can't help but sigh in relief when it doesn't open. 

Each movement I make is as silent as I can make it. Opening the drawer to my dresser is painfully slow, before I grab a coat and sling it over my shoulders. Nights in the Independence Pack can get quite chilly. Especially when you're sneaking around. 

Opening the window, cool air drafts in, making me shiver. I won't be too long. Just enough time to get some air and escape my thoughts for awhile. 

That's until I hear someone clear their throats from behind me. 

“Going somewhere?”

Twisting around, I don't even bother hiding the fact that I planned to escape. Cal stands at my doorway, arms folded across his chest. The expression is pure amusement, as if he expected as much. Of course he did. He must of heard me, or perhaps he felt the cold. Either way, I've never felt so mortified on the spot as I do now. 

“I should fire you,” I say nonchalantly. “Mother will get over it.”

He doesn't seemed fazed at all by this. Instead he watches me, that milky brown gaze pinning me down. Then he sighs. “You're not going to do that.”

“Why not?” I question, gritting my teeth in adamant. Maybe this will upset mother so much, she will die in her frail state. If so, I'll fully be blaming Cal for it. 

“Give me a moment,” he says softly, before he disappears from my view. 

Is he getting my mother? I'll kill him myself if that's the case. Maybe I should just jump straight back out the window and run until I can't feel my feet anymore, until I've lost all air in my lungs. My thoughts are cut off when Cal comes back through our adjoining door, wearing a quiver. I can't halt the immediate confusion that crosses my features. 

Arrows? A bow too? I know he's a Huntsman, but I'm surprised he's showing me this. He has a completely innocent expression on his face as he regards me, waiting for a reaction. 

“Shall we go?”

I'm stunned. “Where?”

“Out. Wasn't that there you were planning to go?” He exclaims. “At least you'll be safe this time, since I'm escorting you.”

The idea of dragging Cal out with me is painful, but clearly I have no other choice. Either take a Huntsman out with me, or slide back into a bed where I doubt I'll be able to fall back asleep. So reluctantly, I nod my head, and follow Cal out my room. 

We take the main exit out, by the garden. No one will question us, naturally, and at least this way, there is a path, and a lack of a fence that we would have to scale, unless I decided to spend most of the night searching through my office for keys. It isn't until we are walking down the garden path, that I realise how good this might be. I can delve into Cal’s past life. 

“Have you always grown up in this Pack?” I question, listening to the crunch of the gravel under our feet. 

“My parents would never dream of leaving when I was a young. They are very patriotic. I got into this job young, though, and being a Huntsman let's you travel, depending on your job,” he explains. 

This immediately piqued my interest. I don't know much about the lifestyle of a Huntsman, but I have a feeling he won't want to tell me. He speaks before I have a chance too anyway. 

“So you sing to the Goddess, and she actually hears it?”

Here we go. 

“Yes,” I say tentatively. “She gives me something in return for keeping her company up there, with the Moon.”

It's not easy to explain, however, Cal clearly seems interested. I've never had to show someone this talent, since everyone around here knows, or has been ordered not to question me about it. It's scared business; something that should be protected at all costs. 

“What is it?”

I pause, making him stop walking too. Glancing around, I find the nearest flower to me, all curled and hidden for the night, waiting for the sun to come up in a few hours. A daisy. Stooping down - much to Cal's curiosity - I reach toward the flower, clasping it's stem between the tip of my thumb and index finger. 

t took a lot of practice to make it this easy. A simple thought on my end has the small amount of power the Goddess could grace me with flowing from my mind, right under my skin to my fingertips. 

“I feel bad waking her at this hour,” I murmur, watching the weak magic dance up the stem in a mini light spectacle, right to the bud, pushing out through the petals. She glows with bright white petals and a golden bud. 

Stepping back, I watch the flower glow for only a moment more, before it almost seems to yawn, before it folded back into itself. 

Cal looked mesmerised, as he said, “what in the world did I watch?” 

I grin. I love showing that off. It's a lovely way to show my love for the plants in this garden, which is why I have it. If the Goddess took this away from me, it would be like stealing a piece of my soul. It's apart of me now. 

“Magic,” I reply. “Now it's your turn to teach me your talent.”

He glances down at his quiver, swallowing back the shock of what he just witnessed. It gives me a pleasant feeling inside knowing that despite his travels, he has never seen anything like that. Now, it's my turn to witness something new. 

“Go stand by the tree over there,” he murmurs, and I obey. Pressing my back against it, I patiently wait for him to explain to me what his plan is. 

Before I could make any kind of question, he grabs a single arrow, loads his bow, pulls back and without a second of aiming, he lets it soar right towards me. I gasp, closing my eyes in anticipation of the pain, of the wound and blood that would come from his strategically sharpened arrow heads. 

Nothing. When I tentatively open my eyes, I see the arrow lodged in the tree, right by my ribs. My coat is pinned with it, the fine head have priced the material. 

“Are you crazy?” I snap, ripping it out to throw it on the ground. 

He loads the bow again, and before I can blink, another arrow has been launched and I'm pinned back to the tree again by my coat. He fires another, and it catches on the other side of my coat. 

“This is one way to keep you still,” he says nonchalantly, much to my disgust. When I reach to grab the one on my left, he fires an arrow to catch the sleeve of my arm, really capturing me against the tree. 

“Intrigued yet?” He questions with a glinting smile. 

I would have replied with a snarky comment, but something catches my eye. T, leaning against a nearby tree, lurking in the shadows. 

Watching us.