All day the sickness had grown worse until Will's body was a mass of pain. By midnight, he felt like his bones were breaking. Outside, the storm gusted winds, but the great Conall Keep was indifferent to them.
He wrapped his arms around himself, rocking over his damp sheets, praying he wouldn't be plagued with hallucinations this time.
No use fighting this. He would go to Ruelle tonight.
The idea of running for leagues through a blizzard in this condition made him shudder. Not to mention that he'd be entering the Woods alone, weak, in the middle of the night.
Fantastical creatures teemed in that forest, bloodthirsty beings from other realms.
Munro stirred in his nearby bed, as if sensing his twin's distress, even in sleep. Will envied Munro, who could remain snug in his bed, warm and safe within the impervious keep of their ancestors.
This place had been built by them for future Sentinels of the Woods, the warriors tasked with making sure the creatures of Murk never strayed beyond its boundaries-and that Lykae never ventured within.
When Will rose to dress, stabbing his legs into trews, Munro roused and sat up. "Where are you going?" He lit a candle, illuminating the room they shared.
" 'Tis no concern o' yours."
A flash of hurt flickered in Munro's golden eyes-eyes exactly like his own, only . . . graver. Despite being identical twins, he and Munro had opposing personalities. Will was oft called impetuous like their mother, Munro solemn like their da.
"You used to tell me everything, Will."
Ruelle had warned against that. She'd helped him see Munro's jealous nature. Munro was envious of his twin, simmering with hatred toward his slightly older brother, the heir.
I'm much more mature for my age, and Munro knows it, canna stand it.
In fact, she'd helped Will see the faults in all his friends.
"Are you going into the Woods?" Munro asked, pulling on his own breeches. "To see that female in the odd cottage?"
A stark contrast to the dreary woods, Ruelle's home was brightly painted, with intricate eaves and spindles, as if from a fey's dream. And Munro had never even seen the inside! It was not only fantastical, but mystical-she'd told him it had been standing for centuries, immune to decay.
"What do you know of her?" Will asked, struggling to focus his vision as another wave of pain hit. The tunic he'd just donned was already moist with sweat.
"I know the tales surrounding her."
"That she's a hideous old crone who lures youths to their doom? That she fattens them up, then feeds on their flesh? The rumors are false." The fact that Ruelle cooked feasts for him and then used his body for nourishment wasn't lost on Will. "Are you going to tell Da?" Or, gods forbid, their mother. No she-wolf could be fiercer than Ailis MacRieve.
'Twas one thing that Will had found his mate in a different species; 'twas another that he'd been lying to all of them.
"No need," Munro said quietly. "Mam and Da already suspect you've been sneaking out."
"Because you told them!"
Again came that flash of hurt, like a creature kicked in the flank. "You ken I would no' do that, brother."
Will . . . believed him. At these times, when Munro continued to prove loyal to him, Will couldn't reconcile all the things Ruelle had told him.
His beast was cut from the same soul as Munro's; it longed to run beside his brother's forever. Surely Munro felt the same way?
"What has happened to you, Will? Why do you never talk to me? Why do you never play or laugh anymore?" Munro looked wary and vulnerable-a mere boy.
Do I look so young? "It's complicated. Just let me handle this as I need to, and I'll be back soon." Will finished dressing. "Mayhap we'll talk then."
Without a backward glance, he hastened from the room to descend the main stairs and head out into the blustery night. He'd just felt the first crunch of snow beneath his boots when he heard, "And where might you be off to, Uilleam Andriu MacRieve?"
Mam. Oh, shite. He turned to face her, trying to disguise how bad his shakes had gotten.
She emerged from the shadows, joining him under the swirling snow. Her cheeks were pink, her doe-brown eyes narrowed. "You were too ill to come down for meals today-or to do your chores-and now I find you stealing away in the middle of the night?"