“Josephine?”
Her name left my mouth as a fragile whisper, barely audible over the heavy pounding of my own heart.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
The room felt like it was spinning, the walls closing in on me as my eyes locked onto the floor.
My sister was lying right in front of me, her beautiful clothes soaked completely in blood.
My twin sister.
The other half of my soul.
The person I had spent five long years trying not to think about because the mere thought of her absence hurt too much to bear.
“Jo?” I called out again, my voice shaking uncontrollably.
Her eyes moved slowly, fighting against the heavy weight of exhaustion.
Then, she raised her hand.
Her fingers were coated in blood, shaking as she reached out into the empty space between us, reaching for my face.
I dropped to my knees, the hard floor sending a shock up my legs, and leaned closer.
I allowed her trembling hand to find my cheek.
Her skin was so cold.
Her fingers barely had the strength to move against my skin, leaving a warm, wet trail of blood on my face.
“Jessica…” she breathed out.
I grabbed her hand quickly, holding it tight against my cheek as if my grip alone could keep her tethered to this world.
“I’m here,” I choked out, a lump forming in my throat.
Tears filled her bright blue eyes, spilling over her pale cheeks.
“I’m so sorry.”
I shook my head frantically, my breathing growing shallow.
“No. Don’t say that.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t listen to you,” she cried, her voice barely a whisper.
“Please stop speaking,” I begged, my hands hovering over her broken body, afraid to hurt her more.
“You are wasting your strength. Save all these for later.”
She tried to lift herself, her muscles straining, but her body immediately fell back against the cold floor.
I quickly moved forward, sliding my legs under her.
I sat on the floor and pulled her gently into my arms, resting her heavy head against my shoulder.
Her body lay across my lap.
I held her, feeling the shallow, uneven rise and fall of her chest.
For five years, sitting in that cold room, I had imagined hugging my sister again.
I had imagined what I would say to her.
I had imagined her running toward me with a wide smile.
I had imagined us crying tears of joy, making up for all the lost time.
I had imagined everything.
Just not this.
Never this.
“Where are you bleeding from?” I asked frantically, my eyes darting all over her body.
“Jo, where are you bleeding from?”
Her weak hands moved slowly toward her stomach.
I followed her movement, my eyes landing on her midsection.
Then I saw it.
My entire body went numb.
The blood in my veins turned to ice.
There was a prominent baby bump beneath her blood-soaked clothes.
She was pregnant.
And across that beautiful, round stomach were deep, violent stab wounds.
No.
I stared at it, my mind completely short-circuiting.
No, this can’t be my sister lying here.
Who would dare stab a heavily pregnant woman?
Who could be so evil, so heartless?
“No, no, no…” my voice broke into a pathetic sob.
I touched her stomach carefully, my hands shaking so violently I could barely control them.
“Josephine… who did this to you?”
She immediately raised one weak finger to her pale lips.
“Shh.”
I looked at her, my vision blurring with tears.
“Don’t let them hear you,” she whispered, her eyes wide with fear.
“They’ll kill you too.”
I looked toward the heavy wooden door.
Outside, the night was alive.
I could hear people laughing.
Upbeat music was playing loudly.
People were dancing, drinking, and celebrating.
People were out there living their normal, happy lives while my sister was bleeding to death on the floor in my arms.
The contrast made my stomach churn with nausea.
I looked back at her, my jaw trembling.
“People are outside,” my voice shook with a desperate kind of anger.
“They’re laughing. They’re celebrating. We have to get you help.”
I tried to slide my arms under her back to lift her.
“Come on. We need to leave. I have to get you out of here.”
She grabbed my arm, her grip surprisingly firm for a dying woman.
“No.”
“Josephine, we don’t have time to argue.”
“It’s too late,” she said, a tear rolling down into her hair.
“No, it isn’t. I won’t let it be.”
“I’ve lost too much blood, Jessica.”
“Then we’ll stop it!” I yelled, though my voice cracked in the middle.
I quickly pulled off my jacket and pressed it firmly against her wounded stomach.
As I pressed the fabric down, a bitter, sinking realization hit me.
We are werewolves, but we are utterly powerless.
The only thing we have is our kingmaking bloodline.
We don’t possess the strength or the rapid healing of the other wolves.
We can’t heal ourselves.
If we bleed, we bleed just like ordinary humans.
I sat there, pressing the jacket down, and suddenly, a strange emptiness washed over me.
I couldn’t feel much pain in that exact moment because I was finding it incredibly difficult to process this.
My brain refused to accept the image in front of me.
Maybe this is just a bad dream.
Maybe I will wake up soon, sweating and panting, and realize that I am still locked away in the psychiatric institution.
Yes, that must be it.
This can’t be real.
This is not my sister lying on the floor like this.
This is just another nightmare.
But the warm, sticky blood soaking through my jacket told me otherwise.
She looked up at me, a small, tragic smile appearing on her lips.
“The Moon Goddess remembered me.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, wiping my nose with the back of my hand.
“She let me see you.”
I froze.
Josephine reached for my face again, brushing away a tear I didn’t even know had fallen.
“I never thought I’d see you again.” She swallowed painfully, her throat making a dry clicking sound.
“After you left…”
The memory hit me, She had come to see me at the institution exactly a year ago.
We stood separated by cold space and colder words.
We had a terrible argument.
She had yelled, I had screamed back, and she left angrily, her heels clicking away down the sterile hallway.
She never showed up for me again after that day.
“I thought that was the last time,” Josephine whispered, bringing me back to the horrific present.
I held her tighter, pulling her head under my chin.
“I’m here now. I’m right here.”
“I know.” She smiled again, though her eyes were losing their focus.
“And I’m happy. I can finally rest.”
“No,” I growled, a fierce protectiveness surging through my chest.
“You’re not resting anywhere. You hear me?”
She looked away, her eyes falling to her ruined stomach.
“I couldn’t save my child.” Her voice broke, a raw sound of pure defeat.
Then she looked back up at me.
“But I saw you. My sister. I can rest now.”
“Keep quiet,” I pleaded, quickly wiping the fresh tears from her face.
“Please. It’s your birthday. Today is a happy day.”
She looked at me softly.
“Our birthday.”
I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat feeling like stone .
“Hmmm.”
I reached over and grabbed the fluffy teddy bear that had fallen beside me when I rushed into the room.
It was supposed to be a surprise.
Now, its soft fur was stained with her blood.
I held it up so she could see it.
“Remember how you always wanted one, but father wouldn’t allow you?” I asked, forcing a smile that felt like it was tearing my face apart.
“I got you one. We can always get more. Just get up, come with me, let’s get out of here. Please, Josephine, let’s take find the one who did this together.”
Josephine stared at the bear.
Her lips trembled.
“You remembered.”
“Of course I remembered. It’s your favorite color.”
I placed the teddy bear gently against her chest, and she wrapped her weak, shaking arms around it, hugging it like a small child.
Beside my knee, my eyes caught sight of the small bag I had dropped.
The red cherries had spilled out, scattering across the wooden floor.
I reached down and picked one up.
It was coated in dust and a drop of blood.
I wiped the blood off against my singlet, cleaning it as best as I could, and held it in front of her.
“Remember this cherry?” I asked, my voice taking on a desperate, childish hope.
“They are in their season now. You loved it so much then. I bought a lot for you. When we leave the palace, we will eat this together. Just you and me, like we used to.”
She looked at the cherry, then at me.
Then, she tears rolled down her cheeks
“I’m sorry Dad didn’t choose you over Victoria,” she sobbed out.
I looked away, staring at the wall.
“Stop.”
“I’m sorry he believed you did it. I’m sorry you spent five years in that place.”
My jaw tightened so hard my teeth ached.
“I said stop.”
“I’m sorry they hurt you. I’m sorry they still let you suffer,” she continued, the words tumbling out of her in a rush of guilt and pain.
“And I’m sorry I married Caspian. I should have listened to you. I’m sorry, Jessica.”
“Stop apologizing!” I yelled, pulling her closer, burying my face in her hair.
It smelled like expensive perfume and copper.
“Whoever did this to you is going to pay. I’ll find them. Whoever touched my sister on her birthday is going to pay for it with their life.”
She stared at me for a long moment, reading the violent truth in my eyes.
Then she coughed.
“Huff”
Blood spilled past her lips, running down her chin.
“Josephine?” My eyes widened Panic seized me all over again.
Her body began to shake violently in my arms.
“Please, hold on. Stop talking. I’m going to carry you out right now.”
I turned my back toward her, dropping the cherry.
“Come on. Get on my back. I’ll carry you.”
She didn’t move.
I reached back to grab her arms, but she weakly pulled away.
“No.”
“Why? You’re dying, Jo!”
She looked at me with a terrifying calmness.
“I know. But I am of the Kingmaker’s bloodline. I won’t die somewhere outside in like a coward. I’ll die here. In the palace.”