"Jamie!" Rory called, running forward toward her wife. She was going to get hurt. That forest spirit was going to eat her alive.

Servil grabbed her arm. "Don't, you idiot. The monster you see before you isn't Jamie. She's not herself."

"Then what would you have me do? Nothing? What the fuck are you talking about 'not herself'?" Rory demanded, not taking her gaze off of Jamie as the knife weaved in and out of the spirit, disintegrating them into nothing.

Servil hid behind Rory, not letting go of his grip on her arm. "What you fail to understand, is if we don't run, we'll be the next under her dagger. This is her curse. She's been used by the dead. She doesn't have a choice."

Rory tugged out of his grip. "I'm not leaving her."

Reaching out, Servil gripped tighter, digging his claws into the side of her body. "Are all wolves as stupid as you? She's going to kill us, we're marked for death."

Jamie turned around at the word death. Her eyes swirled in pools of black in the reflection of the rising sun. Black sludge and water flowed from the edges of her mouth. An odd, watery sound gurgled from her lips as if she were drowning.

Her eyes landed on Rory with the intensity of a monster cornering a long-chased victim. "It's about time we got rid of precious Rory. The best Rory. The savior Rory. You ruined everything!" Jamie screamed, her voice echoing with a child's.

Water filled Rory's mouth and shot out her nostrils. What the fuck? She gasped, inhaling more. Her lungs burned. She fell to her knee's as the blurry image of her wife stalked toward her with murder in her eyes.

Servil grabbed Rory by the neck of her coat and dragged her behind him as he ran. The further they got from Jamie, the less the water flowed. Rory gasped for air the instant there was little enough she could. She coughed spitting up crimson as the found their way into the werewolves side of the woods.

"Until the spirits have released my daughter, we won't be safe. I know a play we can go where they cannot touch up." Servil tugged at Rory's sleeve. "Run, Shadow, speed is of the essence."

Tripping over herself, Rory transformed into a wolf. Servil leapt onto her back, making her injuries scream from the added weight.

"What the fuck are you doing? Get off," Rory growled. "I refuse to be ridden by a fae, a male fae nevertheless."

"Oh let your pride go. If you want to survive you'll do as I ask." Servil swirled his hands, creating a fog around them.

They ran for what seemed like ages. Having Servil on her in wolf form was undignified and humiliating. If anyone saw them, they would never let Rory live this down. Wolves talked, and when they talked, it reached the ears of everyone within the next ten miles.

Servil directed her to a cave. "In here. When the sun is high in the sky, blocking the moon, the spirits will lose control. Until then, this space will be safe."

Rory went into the cave and threw him from her back rougher than necessary. Servil went flying, slamming into the side of the cave. "Hey!"

"Just close it." Rory transformed back into her human form and collapsed. For several minutes she just laid there breathing with Servil sealed off the entrance to the cave, casting them in darkness, save for a small, natural crack beside the door.

"This space is protected by several spells. It was created back when—"

"Blah, blah, blah, history this, fae's are great," Rory said, throwing her arms up. "I couldn't care less about your culture's history. What the fuck is wrong with my wife and how do we fix it?"

Servil bristled. "Did you mother never teach you how to treat adults with respect?"

Rory scoffed. "No, my mother taught me how to shot a gun in the places that make targets suffer most."

"..."

Footsteps crunched outside. Rory stared through the slit, watching her wife pace back and forth a few feet away. The darkness continued to swirl in her eyes, declaring her unsafe.

"How do we fix this?" Rory whispered, her voice cracking. It was hard to see Jamie not herself, possessed by some stupid spirit. "Can we fix this? What caused it?"

Servil turned pale and sat down as he lit fire in his hand. "An ancestor tricked her. This is a common occurrence for fae, but children are taught from a young age how to avoid falling prey to such things. But Jamie—she has a bleeding heart, she cares too much for others and was an easy target. They tricked her into making a deal to sacrifice an animal to save me from a terminal illness."

"It wasn't an animal, was it?" Rory asked, sitting down across from him and preparing for the worst.

"No. Ain, my other daughter, wanted power. Power is only attained through a worthy sacrifice. She tried to kill Jamie. I didn't find out until after it happened." He ran a hand over his face, aging more than a hundred years. "Something in Jamie snapped that day. I don't know how long Ain did things she shouldn't have, I didn't have the ability to watch them as I should have."

"Jamie killed her." Rory didn't need to ask, she knew. This was who her wife had told her about, one of her deepest regrets. "I can't imagine what that did to her."

"Because of the way the deal worked, Jamie saved me and got the power Ain sought but—she got something else with it." Servil watched his daughter, terror upon every one of his features. "She merged with Ain. I've tried for years to separate them, to free Jamie from her sister's torment. I've—sacrificed things for this, things I shouldn't have. That's probably why someone wants me dead."

Looking down at his shaking hands, Servil clasped them together. "I wish I would have died that day in her stead. That would be better than having her live a life like this."

"You can't change the past," Rory stated, her voice softening. "But maybe we can find a way to end the curse. What haven't you tried? Is there anything else you can do?"

Servil nodded, his eyes taking on a determined glint. "There is, but I never asked for what I needed. It risks breaking the treaty."

"What is it you need?" Rory asked. "I'll do anything to save her."

Rising to his feet, Servil looked down at her with the face of someone attending a funeral. Sun beams shone through the crack of the door, Illuminating his silver skin. "I need the blood of a Shadow."