A retelling of Haddon’s Dragonsbane poisoning in Chapters 13 of Dragon and the Beast, as told from Zane’s perspective.

(Actually, this is more of a retelling of Wyatt’s Story of that event as told from Zane’s perspective. I fully intended to give Zane a different scene and share his reaction to what happened to Wyatt that way. But that felt muted and less immediate and Zane insisted he wanted to react to his brother’s story IN THE MOMENT.)

***

“I tangled with wolfsbane once.”

Zane stilled at his brother’s admission. His attention locked on the bitter twist of Wyatt’s lips and the way his hand wasn’t quite steady where his fingers traced the scar over his eyebrow.

“I was sick for weeks after. Took six months to heal completely. And burned like acid nearly every day of that.”

Wyatt’s words stunned Zane. Not because he was surprised by the revelation. He’d known the moment he saw the stark white pucker of skin over his brother’s eye. Only a wound poisoned with wolfsbane would have left the mark. The shifter magic would have fully healed anything else.

But his twin never discussed the scar. Or how he got it. Wyatt never spoke of the time when they’d been separated after the unsettling experience of the moon temple. Despite sharing everything, what had happened in those few months was the one thing they never talked about.

Zane continued to stare, silent and hopeful that he’d finally learn something about the pain his brother had buried so deeply.

But Wyatt’s gaze never met his and no more explanation was forthcoming.

Instead, Wyatt moved to crouch down next to his twin and took the arrow from him. Examining the barb closely, he kept his head down and his eyes carefully averted.

“I don’t know how Dragonsbane works but the dose on this is a whole lot more than the drop that was on the knife that got me,” Wyatt mused after a moment’s consideration.

“Is there a cure?” Nanna asked.

Wyatt shook his head and said, “The only thing that made a difference for me was the full moon. I slept outside all night, each month under its light. I don’t think drakes have the same relationship to the moon, though.”

If Zane’s attention hadn’t still been riveted on his brother, he would have missed the way Wyatt swallowed hard before answering. Would have missed the flash of remembered agony and overwhelming despair that flickered across his twin’s face.

Zane had never seen Wyatt look that lost and broken. He hoped never to see the desperate, despondent expression again.

What had happened to his brother?

Twin impulses beat demandingly in his heart. Zane wanted to wrap Wyatt in a hug and comfort him until the pain was forgotten. And he wanted to demand answers so he could race out and seek vengeance on his twin’s behalf.

“Sea Clan,” Haddon rasped, distracting Zane from the primal impulse to defend his brother. An impulse he knew Wyatt would not appreciate.

“Don’t move,” Pip insisted, when the drake struggled to sit up. “You need to rest.”

Haddon coughed, body quaking and pain carving creases in his forehead. He stopped fighting Pip, but still labored to get words out.

“The Sea Clan has an antidote.”

Looking relieved at the change of focus, Wyatt stood and said, “It will take us days to get there and back.”

“With this fever, I don’t know if he has days,” Nanna warned.

“Then we’d better start now,” Zane said grimly. It would be a rough journey to make quickly. But maybe the trip would give him a chance to prod Wyatt for more answers.

“I might know a way to help,” Pip said, looking uncertain yet determined, before turning to Haddon for a quiet, heartfelt conversation.

Her announcement left Zane both relieved and disappointed.

Relieved because the chances of making it to the Sea Clan and back in time were slim. If they could do something for Haddon, here and now, the prince was more likely to survive.

Disappointed, because part of him had hoped the journey would give him time to prod his brother into revealing more of the pain and secrets he’d been hiding.

Pip stood up abruptly and rushed across the tower rooftop.

Wyatt watched Pip disappear through the hatch, but Zane was still watching him. He still felt torn about all the questions he’d suppressed back when he and Wyatt had first reunited. When he’d first seen the scar, barely healed and stark, he’d understood immediately what it meant. What Wyatt must have faced on his own.

But his brother had resolutely avoided talking about it and Zane hadn’t pushed.

Now, all those questions were bubbling to the surface once again. But nothing had really changed. Wyatt so rarely kept anything back for himself, Zane had no choice but to respect his privacy on the rare occasions he chose to.

So they stood in silence, waiting for Pip to return.

Except, after a minute or two, Wyatt fidgeted uncomfortably and cleared his throat.

“When you went to Obel City in search of the book, I couldn’t go with you.”

Zane frowned, remembering the conversation. He’d been surprised Wyatt had wanted to split up. The rumors of the rare book on shapeshifting for sale had seemed like the ultimate treasure.

A chance to learn more about what they’d become. To gain more control and advantage.

“You wanted to split up. Me to the city, and you in search of some secret cult you’d heard about. One who were rumored to know secrets about the temple,” Zane remembered.

He hadn’t been comfortable with the idea of splitting up. At the time, though, it had seemed like the best way to get the most information in the shortest amount of time. And Zane had wanted that book.

He still regretted not getting his hands on it.

When he’d found the book too expensive to bid on and too well-guarded to steal from the Merchant-Baron, Zane devised a new plan.

Assuming a false identity, he wormed his way into the inner circle of the man who ultimately acquired the tome. For months, Zane had bided his time and waited for the perfect opportunity to take the book.

Unfortunately, when he’d finally held it in his grasp, Zane was also only minutes away from getting caught red-handed.

He’d been saved by the intervention of a servant he’d befriended while waiting for his chance. She’d gotten him out of the room undiscovered, but he’d been forced to leave the book behind.

Before he’d had a chance to regroup and plan another attempt at burglary, Zane had received word from Wyatt. Despite the bland message, Zane had known his twin was troubled.

Without a second thought, he’d dropped everything and gone to meet his brother.

“I lied.”

Wyatt’s stark admission snapped Zane’s attention back to the present.

His twin grimaced, guilt etched sharply in every line of his face, and continued grimly. “There was no cult. There were no rumors.”

Zane’s mouth tightened, anger and hurt blossomed in his chest.

“Then where did you go?” he demanded, feeling a knife a betrayal he’d never expected to come at the hands of his own twin.

Wyatt met his eyes with determination, though uncertainty and regret glittered in their grey depths.

“I went in search of a way to get rid of the wolf.”

Shock and bewilderment chased everything else away. Zane couldn’t muster any words, couldn’t understand what his brother was trying to say.

Get rid of the wolf?

It was unthinkable. The wolf was as much a part of him as his heart and his mind. Being a wolf-shifter was what he was. Who he was. It was everything to Zane.

Unable to make sense of what he’d heard, Zane could only stare at Wyatt in confusion and ask, “Why?”

“Because I hated it.”

The vehemence in Wyatt’s voice startled Zane.

“I hated the loss of control,” Wyatt continued more quietly. The emphasis now on the past tense. “Hated feeling tricked. Jerked around by magic I didn’t understand.”

Zane’s brows drew together as he tried to make sense of what he was hearing. He’d always seen the wolf as a gift, not a trick. It made him more. It made him better.

It made him whole.

Wyatt sighed and shrugged and tried again to explain. “You embraced our new nature from the first. I fought it. Every time.”

Zane knew some of their other packmates had struggled with the change. But it never occurred to him that Wyatt felt that way. He’d never seen the frustration or unhappiness in his brother. Never suspected.

Which left one question. One Zane wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to.

“Did you not find a way to escape the wolf? Or did you change your mind?”

Wyatt’s smile was tight and self-mocking when he answered.

“Both.”

Yet again, his brother surprised and confused him, but Wyatt took pity on him and explained the cryptic answer.

“My search eventually led me to a hermit. The locals praised him as a wise man. The tales claimed he was an ascetic who’d eschewed his life of magic for a simpler life alone.”

Once again, Wyatt shifted his gaze away, looking anywhere but at Zane.

“He told me he could help me. That he could teach me to free myself from the wolf that burdened my soul.”

Wyatt paused, regret and embarrassment sharp in his expression.

“For weeks, I did everything he asked of me. Hours of labor chopping wood and hauling casks from a spring on the other side of the mountain. Fasting for days on end. Staying up all night in silent, focused vigil.”

Zane braced himself, knowing that, whatever was coming, he didn’t want to hear it. And that he needed to. That Wyatt needed him to.

“On a moonless night, he said I was ready to fight the wolf,” Wyatt said with a bitter twist of his mouth. “He offered me a cup of some strange tea and said the herbs would give me strength and focus.”

“It didn’t, did it?” Zane asked, a cold wave of certainty chilling him with fear for his brother.

“No. No it didn’t. I’d already let myself be weakened from exhaustion and hunger. The concoction made me dizzy and disoriented.”

A red stain of embarrassment stained Wyatt’s cheeks and he still refused to look at Zane. The vulnerability and humiliation in his brother’s eyes made Zane want to hit something. Or, better yet, to hunt down the hermit and make him regret every choice he’d ever made.

But his brother didn’t need his anger or his protection. So Zane fought to keep his reaction hidden. Offered nothing but concern and support and love for his brother to see.

“That’s when he attacked,” Wyatt continued, with the barest hitch in his voice. “All the while gloating about how he used unsuspecting seekers for a blood ritual that had extended his existence well beyond any natural lifespan. And he was sure the magic of werewolf blood would keep him going for another century, at least.”

Zane held back the snarl by sheer force of will, but he couldn’t keep his hands from curling into fists. Thankfully, Wyatt was too lost in his own memory to notice.

“The hermit miscalculated, though. I don’t know if he was too impatient or if he underestimated the extra edge the wolf gave me. Or if he just believed the dark moon would weaken me further. Whatever his mistake, I still had enough focus and strength to fight him off and transform.”

Wyatt looked up, finally meeting Zane’s eyes. And seemed relieved to find no judgment or reservations there.

“You were hurt though,” Zane said, proud that his voice remained soft and even.

“Yes. He got me a couple times with the wolfsbane knife. It burned like nothing I’ve experienced before or since,” Wyatt’s hand pressed against his ribs, without seeming to notice he was doing it. “The wounds weren’t fatal, but they refused to heal. And fever set in almost immediately.”

Zane had caught sight of the second scar occasionally over the years. Now, he realized how much worse things might have been.

He could have lost his brother without ever knowing what happened.

Refusing to dwell on it, refusing to let the possibility take root, Zane focused on the fact that his brother was safe. That he was here. That he did heal.

Which reminded him of what Wyatt had told them earlier.

“How did you know the full moon would heal you?” Zane asked.

“I didn’t. I was just too out of it to do anything else.” Wyatt admitted, but there was something still unspoken lying beneath the truth of his words. He rushed on before Zane had a chance to ask any more questions.

“When I woke in the morning, the wounds were still there but the pain had receded slightly. And, more importantly, the fever had broken. I spent the next few months healing in solitude. Making sure that I spent every full moon outside under the open sky.”

His brother paused, squaring his shoulders as if readying to defend himself.

“It wasn’t the attack, or the healing that changed my mind about keeping the wolf though,” Wyatt admitted quietly. “When I was hurt… when the moon healed me, I saw things.”

“Like hallucinations from the fever?” Zane asked, eyes narrowing as he tried to make sense of what he was hearing.

“I thought so, the first time,” Wyatt said. Then he took a deep breath and plunged on. “But the fever was gone after that first night. And I kept having visions every full moon.”

If he were anyone else, Zane would be suggesting he might need some rest or time with a mind healer. But this was Wyatt. And the conviction in his voice was enough to make Zane believe.

Curious and intrigued by the possibilities, Zane asked, “What kind of visions?”

“A woman in white. Glowing like the moon. She said the same thing every time. That the wolfkin had a purpose, once. When they’d fulfilled that purpose, they faded from the world. Now time has turned full circle and we’ve been returned because the need for us has returned, as well.”

For a moment, Zane only stared as a half-forgotten memory stirred to the surface. Of a more carefree time, when childish games of make-believe filled their days.

“So, you have a higher purpose then?” Zane asked with a teasing smirk. “I thought you outgrew your aspiration to become a Paladin when we started hunting treasure.”

Wyatt rolled his eyes, but his shoulders eased and the tension in his body disappeared.

“I still think I’d look good in the armor,” he said with a shrug. “But its not just me she was talking about. It was all of us. The pack.”

Zane’s amusement faded and he frowned in thought.

“Do you think it’s this? That our purpose is to help stop Velia?”

“No,” Wyatt answered with certainty. “Something else is coming.”

Before Zane could ask him why he was so sure, Harper clattered out of the roof hatch forcing their attention to the current dangers.

Want more? Check out the Extras page for more outtakes and excerpts!