I toss back, “Because you wreaked havoc on my life without a thought as to how it would affect me, and more importantly, my sister.”
“I’m offering you a new life; abetterlife.”
He says that as if it makes a bit of difference. “One that I’m not interested in.”
He glares at me for several moments, looking a mixture of stumped and frustrated. Then, with a growl, he stalks off into the tree line, apparently having decided to leave me alone for the time being.
I peek into my tent briefly, ensuring Leisel didn’t wake up at the sounds of our argument. She’s sleeping peacefully in a pile of blankets—several of which a pack member provided and I begrudgingly accepted. Chip is likewise in dreamland, snuggled into Leisel’s long hair.
I close the tent’s flap and resume my post in front of it. Tiredness does weigh heavily on me, but anxiety keeps my thoughts racing and my heart pounding, preventing me from dozing off.
Several minutes later, I startle as I spot a magnificent black wolf break through the tree line. His fur is so dark I wouldn’t have noticed him if I hadn’t been on high alert, and he appears to be twice the size of normal wolves that I’ve crossed paths with on hunts. As he trots closer, I see he’s holding a mouthful of clothes—the same clothes that Camden was wearing, which makes me relax minutely because it tells me this is Camden’s wolf, his more primal half.
The wolf’s eyes, the same silver-blue as Camden’s, lock onto me as he slows his pace to a hesitant walk, as if not wanting to frighten me. He comes to a stop in front of Camden’s tent, releasing the clothes from his mouth to allow them to fall on the forest ground with a light thump, and simply stares at me.
Strangely, I don’t find myself wanting to scramble away from the wolf. Maybe it’s because I know he’s more elemental in his thinking and is unable to whip me with a belt if I piss him off. Maybe it’s because I’m innately drawn to magical things, a perk of my heritage.Maybe it’s the undying curiosity that’s always lived within me. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m too exhausted to kick up a fuss.
Whatever the reason, I don’t move or run. Instead, I tip my chin at the beautiful beast, eyeing him warily. “Hello, wolf.”
He takes my greeting as an invitation to move a few steps closer, stopping a mere five feet in front of me. He lets out a snort that might be a greeting.
The wolf looks me over with sharp, alarmingly intelligent eyes. Then, shockingly, he lets out a whine. Not a bark or growl or any other noise of demand, but rather one of discomfort and longing. Several beats of silence pass before he whines again, shifting forward without taking another step.
It seems almost as though he’s askingpermissionto come closer, which is a tad astonishing considering the forceful personality of his human counterpart.
“You want me to sit with me? Is that why you’re whining?” I question hesitantly, confounded by this situation. Is it possible the wolf is more gentle than the man?
He paws the ground in front of him and lets out a chuff, which I translate into a yes.
I tilt my head to the side, considering. “If I say no, would you leave me in peace?”
Another, longer whine, but he doesn’t make a move to step forward, which makes me far more agreeable. I’m inclined to like the beast, and my curiosity is slowly unfurling.
“Come on, then,” I offer, patting the ground beside me. “I suppose you can stand guard with me.”
He slowly pads over to me, as if not trying to frighten me, and then lies down right next to me, blue eyes staring at me expectantly. His tail begins to wag lightly as we watch each other.
I let out a small puff of laughter, set aside my knife and rock, and tentatively reach out to stroke his fur. It’s softer than it looks; luxurious and silky smooth. He leans into my touch at once, eyes fluttering closed and a low rumble of pleasure escaping him that emboldens me. When I scratch behind one of his ears, he scoots closer, then lays his big head onto my lap, right over my legs.
“You’re not so bad,” I murmur, continuing to pet him. The contact sparks a warmth within me, followed by the strangest sensation of safety.
Eventually, the wolf falls asleep with his head resting on my legs, his breathing turning deeper and slower and his body relaxing. I don’t get the urge to move or get away from him, so I simply remain where I am, hand resting on his head.
“If only your human would be as sweet as you, we might not have such substantial problems,” I whisper.
***
The next day, around noon, we make it to Kinrith.
Camden’s wolf woke up with the first rays of dawn and trotted back into his tent. He emerged a few minutes later, in human form and fully dressed, just as the rest of the pack members also began to rise. He bid me a polite good morning and asked me if I got any sleep. I bid him a less polite good morning and disregarded the question.
Neither of us mentioned my meeting his wolf. I think Camden knew that commentary would quickly sour the experience. I also think he suspects that I’m fonder of his wolf than I am of him—which, to my surprise, is true.
Still, the fact that I feel a stronger connection to his animal half doesn’t mean I’ll ever fullyaccepteither the wolf or the man. I’m simply more comfortable with the beast, mainly because he proved to be kinder than Camden.
Leisel’s eyes are wide as we ride into the citadel. I’m sure mine are too because Kinrith is an entirely different world than what Leisel and I have experienced.
Beautifully carved horse-drawn carriages ride on the smooth paved roads—something I suspect the elite make use of when not going to more rural destinations. Shifters roam along sidewalks with purposeful strides. I notice that some of them have slitted eyes, like a cat’s, which tips me off that there are feline shifters intermingling with the wolves.
