Chapter 7

Chapter 7 Bad guy

CA SSANDRA

“Mommy, what’s going on?” Finnick whispered, and he stared up at me with widened eyes. I froze in place, unsure of how to answer him. Surely, the Alpha King

couldn’t be serious.

Me, go with him to Anemond?

I studied Asher’s expression and wondered if he’d seen past my changed face.

and voice. Had he discovered it was me after all? No. There was no way.

Regardless, why would he bring me there? As the capital city of the Wegalla Empire, there were countless outstanding healers that resided there. While I knew I was good at my job, I didn’t believe for a moment that I was any more talented than any of them.

If anything, I could just write down the list of herbs I’d used and have the ser vants pa*s it along to the royal healers, and if something was amiss, they knew

where to find me.

“I-I don’t understand, Your Majesty,” I asked him. “Why bring me all the way to

Anemond?”

“Must I repeat myself?” the Alpha King sighed and he shook his head in frustration. “I thought you were smart, but perhaps I’m giving you too much credit.”

Anger s piked within me, but I ignored it.

“Begging your pardon, but I have patients here in the Wild Crawler Pack I must attend to,” I brought up in hopes he’d change his mind. “Many of them require. treatment that only I can administer.”

“Isn’t that why you have an a*sistant?” Asher retorted.

“Well, yes,” I admitted. “But I can’t just leave her to do all of the work. It takes

both of us to run the clinic.”

“This isn’t a discussion, Ca ssandra,” his voice hardened as his impatience grew. “It’s an order. You will comply or else suffer the consequences. I doubt you wish to subject your son to any sort of punishment.”

The Alpha King was right. I couldn’t refuse, not when it was a royal decree. I had to do what was right and keep Finnick from harm’s way.

“No, Your Majesty,” I replied quickly, and I held Finnick close.

“Now, leave us,” Asher commanded. “Return home and prepare your things.”

“Yes,” I said, and after I rose to my feet, I bowed in respect. “Your Majesty.”

Finnick and I left without another word, and once the doors were closed behind us, my son grabbed my hand.

“Mommy,” he whispered. “He scares me.”

“Shh,” I whispered back, and I glanced around to make sure no one had heard him. “You mustn’t say such things, not until we’re home, okay?”

“Sorry,” he apologized.

I led Finnick down the stairs, and after I waved goodbye to Jasper, we left the

Pack House.

It was nearly nightfall, and the moon shone bright above us as we walked down the gray stone path back toward town.

“Did you eat dinner?” I asked Finnick, and my son nodded.

“Yes,” he said. “Auntie Sofia gave us soup and cr ackers.”

“Good,” I replied simply, and I made note to thank the Luna for watching my son and taking care of him while I was working.

As we headed toward our house, a few Pack members greeted us and wished us good evenings. I kept my responses polite but short. Now was the time the Pack. members would be heading home to celebrate their harvests, but I wanted nothing to do with any of it. Even if I had, I needed time to process everything that’d

happened that day.

Finnick stayed close to me, his fingers wrapped tightly around mine. I knew he could sense my frustration, so he remained quiet as we quickly walked, but after a while, he started to lag behind me. Soon, I dropped his hand without really noticing until he called after me.

“Mommy?” he said. “Please slow down!”

When I turned around, I noticed he’d stopped and was panting about ten feet behind me.

I rushed over to him and crouched down so I was eye-level.

“I’m sorry, honey,” I apologized. “I didn’t realize I was walking so fast.”

“It’s okay,” Finnick replied as he caught his breath. Once he was calm, his eyebrows creased together. “You look sad, Mommy.”

“No, I’m fine, darling,” I a*sured him, but he wasn’t convinced by my words.

“You said we don’t lie to each other,” he insisted, and his face was completely serious.

He was such a sensitive soul, and I knew he could tell I wasn’t okay. But what could I say? How could I explain the situation in a way that a child could

understand?

“Do you want to go to Anemond?” I asked him softly, and he immediately shook. his head.

“No,” he said.

“Why not?” I asked.

“You don’t want to,” he replied as if it was obvious. “If Mommy doesn’t like it, then I don’t like it.”

My sweet, loyal boy. He was so special, so empathetic. I smiled at him, and drew him into a hug. After a moment, I let go, and we resumed our walk. As we continued on, Finnick started asking more questions, and I did my best to answer

I

him without revealing too much.

“Mommy, he was that strange man?” he wondered, “You called him… M-Majesty.”

“He’s… um… an important official,” I explained simply.

“Is he from Anemond?” Finnick asked.

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Is he a bad guy?”

I paused, unsure of how to answer him.

“I don’t know,” I finally admitted. “I don’t know much about him, Finnick.”

“Oh,” Finnick replied, and that was that.

We didn’t talk about anything else the rest of the way home.

Once we got back to our small house, I carried Finnick up the stairs to his bedroom and carefully helped him into his pajamas. After he brushed his teeth, I brought him a gla*s of water and then tucked him into bed. Normally, I read him a story before bed, but neither of us seemed interested in that ritual tonight. So instead, I crawled under the covers with him and snuggled him beside me. He rested his head against me, and I ran my fingers through his soft hair, just like I had when he was a baby.

“Mommy?” Finnick asked in a clear voice, and before the words left his mouth, I

knew what he was about to ask.

“Yes, my love?” I replied calmly, even though my heart raced in my chest.

“Why did that man have gray eyes like mine?” he wondered. He sat up and turned his b*dy around to face mine. His curious eyes were wider than I’d ever seen them, and his lower l*p trembled slightly.

“I don’t know,” I whispered, but Finnick grabbed my hand. He took a deep

breath and then tilted his head to the side.

“Mommy, you told me it was the color of an angel’s wings,” he said. “You said it was a nice color.”

“It is, my love,” I said.

“But the man wasn’t an angel, was he?” he whispered so softly I almost didn’t. hear him. “He is a bad guy.”

“Shhh,” I said, and I brought the covers up over us. “Let’s get some sleep,

okay?”

“Okay,” Finnick replied. I snuggled him closer against me, and as he fell asleep in my arms, I couldn’t help but wonder if my child was right.

Was Asher Collins a bad guy?