Fenrys had fallen asleep feeling much happier than he had in a long time. Visiting Seraphina always put him in a good mood. The fact that he hadn't been caught yet made it even better. All the same, he knew it was only a matter of time before Maeve discovered them. He needed to leave before that happened, but how could he break Sera's heart when she had so freely given it to him? It was a question he would answer later. They still had a little time.

Fenrys shifted, half opening his eyes. There was an empty hollow at his side where Seraphina had been. He knew she often tossed in her sleep. She had likely just rolled over. Fenrys reached for her. His fingers brushed through a warm, thick liquid.

His eyes flew open as he scented the metallic tang of blood. Fenrys bolted upright, staring in horror at the scene before him. Seraphina was still on the bed, a dark pool spreading beneath her. Fenrys didn't know when he began screaming. He didn't know when his tears began to fall as he begged her to wake up. As he drew her into his arms, desperately trying to heal the numerous wounds that marred her skin.

Her sapphire eyes were unseeing, nails sticking out of them. Her head was a mass of ravaged flesh. Her coppery locks lay close by, severed from her scalp. There was her tongue beside them. Her fingers had been shattered. Shards of bone poked through the skin of her arms and legs. There were blood covered bruises on every inch of her body. Skin had been peeled away from her stomach.

Slowly, Fenrys became aware of the three males in the room with him. His brother. His commander. Maeve's torturer. Cairn's hands were stained red. All of their hands were. Fenrys didn't know what he screamed at them. He couldn't understand how they'd accomplished this without waking him.

Sera had been tortured. Mutilated. Murdered! And he had been soundly sleeping beside her all the while. How many times had she called for him? How many times had she tried to wake him? Why hadn't he heard her?

Fenrys was still raving as Connall grabbed him by the arms and dragged him off the bed. He was still fighting when they teleported. When he was deposited before Maeve. Rowan and Vaughan grabbed him, forcing him upright on his knees. Gavriel approached, a whip dangling from his grasp. Bits of iron were attached to the tongues. He also carried a canister of salt.

"One lash for every secret conversation you had with her," Maeve said. "Two lashes for every kiss. Five for every night you spent in her arms."

Fenrys didn't bother trying to calculate how many blows that would equal. He just braced himself. Rowan and Vaughan were expressionless beside him. The first blow came. The second. The third. They began to blur together. Blood ran down his back. Pooled around his knees. Mixed with Seraphina's blood that still stained his skin.

Fenrys didn't faint. Didn't cry out. Didn't sob. He stared at Maeve, plotting all the ways he would make her pay for what she had done. Plotting how he would repay Cairn for the brutality shown to Sera.

The whip fell to the floor. Gavriel opened the canister of salt. Fenrys couldn't stifle his hiss of pain as Gavriel dumped the salt into his open wounds. It stung. It burned. White spots danced in his vision. "Send a healer to him in an hour or two," Maeve was saying to Lorcan. Fenrys didn't know when he'd arrived. "Tell them to leave the scars, but make them faint." And Fenrys knew no more.

◦ ~ ❘ ☼ ❘ ~ ◦

A faint sound drew Nascha from her dreams. She rubbed her eyes wearily, listening. The sheets rustled as Fenrys moved. Nascha rolled over. His back was facing her, but shudders wracked his body. He was having another nightmare. She remained still. She knew he'd be in a bad mood if he woke up and discovered that she knew he'd been having a bad dream.

Moonlight streamed through the window, kissing his golden brown skin with its silvery rays. Nascha took in the many scars that were illuminated by the soft light. She could tell what had made each scar. That one had been a blade. These ones, a whip. Those narrow jagged lines at his waist? Fingernails.

She still thought he was beautiful, despite the scars. She'd never seen a male as stunning as him. She'd seen many good looking males of course. She would even classify Rowan, Lorcan, Vaughan, and Aedion as handsome, but Fenrys still outmatched them.

Nascha closed her eyes, determined to go back to sleep. Another sound reached her ears. Her eyes opened once more. Fenrys rolled onto his back, still asleep. His chest rose and fell with uneven breaths. Nascha's lips parted in surprise. There were tears on his cheeks. He whimpered again, louder this time.

Is he dreaming about Connall? She wondered. Concern pricked at her. He never cries or makes sounds when he's having a nightmare. She sat up. Fenrys' breaths were coming faster. Nascha touched his shoulder. "Fenrys?"

    He flinched, but didn't wake. He jerked his head back and forth, still shaking. "Sera," he whispered.

    Nascha knit her brows. His tears fell harder. A strange urge welled up within Nascha's chest. Something was hurting him. She needed to make it stop. Fenrys cried out, suddenly. Nascha bent over him, digging her nails into his shoulder.

    "Fenrys!" She called. "It's a dream. Wake up." Nascha shook him roughly. "It's a dream." Fenrys' eyes flew open as he screamed. "It's a dream!" Nascha threw starlight above their heads, adding more light to the room. She cupped Fenrys' face in her hands as his eyes darted back and forth. "Fenrys, it was a dream." His gaze met hers. "It was a dream."

    Fenrys pushed her hands away and stumbled out of bed. Nascha stood as he pulled on a pair of pants. He stormed out the door, not even looking at her. Nascha hurried after him. By the time she reached the cabin's front door, Fenrys had already shifted and was bounding into the forest. Nascha shifted into her owl and soared after him.

◦ ~ ❘ ☼ ❘ ~ ◦

    Fenrys let his paws carry him deeper into the forest until hardly any moonlight was able to breach the treetops. He was panting for breath already but he kept running. He didn't know where he was going. He only knew where he wasn't. He wasn't going to the training rings behind the palace. He wouldn't be able to explain what had happened if Aelin joined him. He wasn't going to Gavriel's grave. That was the last place he wanted to be.

    Grave. He'd never gone to Seraphina's grave. After the healers woke him, he found himself unable to speak her name. He hadn't been able to talk about her at all. Maeve had forbidden it, using the blood oath. She'd forbidden the others to tell him anything about her too. Everyone but Cairn.

    Fenrys had spent years wondering if Sera was been buried or left to rot, before Maeve died and Rowan finally told him what happened to her. Connall had gone back to Seraphina's home and buried her. He had been the one to inform her family of her death. He'd shown them where she was buried.

    Rowan refused to tell Fenrys if Maeve had punished Connall after she found out. Fenrys knew that meant yes. He didn't know what his brother had suffered for them. He'd never had a chance to thank him. Pain swept through Fenrys, filling every inch of his being with a throbbing ache. He threw his head back and howled, unable to silence himself. There were a few answering howls, but none that he wanted to hear.

    Fenrys reached a clearing at last and sat near the edge of a rippling stream. He didn't bother shifting. There was a whisper of a breeze against his neck as Nascha flew past. She shifted into herself and sat down beside him, not speaking. Tendrils of darkness snaked around her arms and danced above her shoulders as she released her magic. Starlight accompanied them, dusting her skin in silver.

    He could feel her concern, though she did not voice it. Fenrys lowered himself onto the grass and rested his head in her lap. Nascha hesitated, then began to stroke his fur. "It's softer than I expected," she said. Fenrys huffed in amusement. "I figured I should follow you, in case you started to feel the effects of Aelin's command."

    I would have come back if that happened, he thought to himself.

    "I always liked to go out and fly after I had a rough day or a bad dream," Nascha continued. "Nighttime is so peaceful. So serene. It calms me down when nothing else will." Her voice was calming to him. As was her warm scent, nutmeg and frost.

    "If it was daylight and I couldn't go out, I would use my magic to replicate night. I made my entire room dark and covered my ceiling in starlight. When Van and Zeno noticed, they would add a breath of wind so that I could fly around my room and pretend that I was outside."

    Your brothers sound like good males.

    "I miss them," Nascha sighed. Her hand stilled on his neck. "I thought you were dreaming about Connall, but then you said a name. Sera. You don't have to tell me, but...who was that?"

    Fenrys couldn't bring himself to shift. He closed his eyes, pressing his furry cheek against her stomach. Nascha resumed stroking his fur. "Moonbeam," she chuckled. He opened his eyes, looking up at her. "I always thought Makatza was a weird name, but Moonbeam..." Her lips tilted up. "Fenrys Makatza sounds weird too. That's the eighth time I've said your name, by the way." Nascha tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Nascha Moonbeam. I think that sounds much better than Fenrys Moonbeam."

    Nine, Fenrys thought. And it sounds better than Nascha Makatza, anyway.

    Nascha grimaced. "To think I might have been Nascha Allsbrook. Ren is handsome, but I don't think he's my type. I think I intimidate him."

    Who don't you intimidate? Fenrys rolled his eyes.

    Nascha tilted her head, studying him. For a moment, he thought she knew what he'd said. "I don't intimidate you," she murmured. Fenrys blinked, his heartbeat quickening. Nascha fell silent, her hand resting behind his ear.