Frankie (Through Time 4)

However, as she raised her hand to knock and get his attention, she heard her lover’s raised voice and froze.

Tension flooded the air. She felt it pulsate and then she heard Graely’s voice—Graely the brother who had not been imprisoned in Conglam. Frankie’s Graely. She had seen them that night at the club and knew at once. She had not told Pestale about them, and she hadn’t been sure why that was.

She should leave and return later. Graely was never able to stay long. The wards would take him home. However, some instinct kept her standing stock-still.

She shouldn’t listen to their conversation, but she was curious about Graely, about his connection to Pestale, and the relationship between them.

However, they were arguing, and she chided herself for staying, and was just about to shift out of the castle when she heard Pestale say, those words, those awful mind-bending, slap in the face words, “Mine is loyal just to me. She is worthy my protection and affection, but, I would put a knife through her heart before I would allow her to interfere with my efforts to destroy our father and take over the Human Realm.”

She felt a jagged knife spear her through her gut as she heard those words. She felt an open hand slap her across her face. She felt a weight land on her shoulders and she crumbled as the words made their way to her heart.

Hurt flooded through her. She caught a sob in her throat as she held herself against the pain. It was as though he had sliced her open with a sword.

Through it all, she realized her heart, broken and bleeding had torn itself away from her body, displayed itself before her eyes and exploded.

It was just as Darmon had always told her. She had been blind.

She had committed foul acts believing they were righteous and for the good of all! She had believed in a monster, a monster that used others and destroyed them for his own needs.

She shifted out of the castle and into the woods not far from her home. She thought of rushing home, diving into her mother’s arms and confessing, but she was so ashamed. How could she tell anyone what she had been a party to? How could she tell anyone what she had done?

Eslym fell to her knees as the weight of the heinous act she had committed, tore her apart. She had lost a vision, she had lost an ideal and she had been in love with someone who had not existed in anything but physical form.

She meant nothing more to Pestale than what he could get from her. They had never bonded. They were not soul-mates as she had dreamed they were. How could they be, he had no soul, and hers now was tarnished.

Silent tears flowed freely before the sobs racked her body. She shouted to the heavens, “What have I done? Oh no--what have I done?”

A strong male voice behind her said quietly, “What have you done, Essie?”

She turned and found she could not face him, and flung an arm over her countenance, burying it in the crook of her bent elbow.

He gently pulled her arm away and she felt the shame spill over as she told him on a racking sob, “What I have done is betray everyone who loves me. What I have done is betray myself, who I was—what I believe. I am the lowest of evil creatures, Darmon, not fit to have you as my friend. I have even offered friendship to someone who did not deserve what I did to her…”

Darmon sat beside her and said softly, “For Pestale?”

“Yes, for Pestale, but he is a false god. I thought that the sun rose and set with him. All the fairy tales came true when I looked at him, but, Darmon, I loved someone that did not exist! He is a wicked monster.” She sobbed uncontrollably.

He took her into his arms, “Tell me Essie, and we will make it right. There is always a way to fix things. Trust me to help you fix things.”

“No, I cannot. I can’t tell you what I have done. I am so ashamed,” she shouted and shrugged roughly out of his hold.

All she knew was that she wanted to hide. Her wolf took over, as she loped through the forest and away from him. She knew he wouldn’t follow, it wasn’t their way. Shapeshifters always gave one another their space.

How could she tell anyone what she had done? How could she face them ever again?

She loped through the woods unseeing, when suddenly she realized that someone was blocking her path, and she slowed as she looked for a way around him.

Sventer stood apart from his soldiers. His arms were crossed over his chest. His eyes were narrowed and he asked, “What is it, little wolf?”

“Nothing, I need to run—I just need to run. Please get out of my way,” she answered.

“Oh, I don’t think so. The time has come for us, for Pestale to exert great caution. We haven’t come this far to have regrets, and I think perhaps you are having second thoughts—even regrets. Are you no longer committed to The Cause?”

She bared her teeth, “Get out of my way!” So saying she lunged at him, making him jump out of her jaw clamping path. Even as she lunged, she knew that she had to shift to a place they would not readily follow.

She shifted into the jungle and huddled in the heights of a tall tree.

Sventer had known somehow. He would tell Pestale and then her life would be forfeit. Perhaps she deserved to die for what she had done?