The air grows heavier, charged. He steps fully into the open, moving with grace, muscles rippling beneath his fur. Mist curls around him, seeming to cling to his thick, glossy coat.
I should be afraid.
Yet something else hums beneath my skin—a pull low in my stomach, a trembling sensation that feels like recognition. His unblinking gaze pins me to the spot. It feels like he is looking inside me, and all the way to my soul.
He lowers his head, scenting the air, padding closer. A low rumble vibrates in his chest. When he nears, I smell him: earth, rain, and fresh moss. The weight of his presence anchors me to the tree. One massive paw lifts then presses into the soil beside me, landing with a weightythud.
His breath ghosts across my right cheek, warm against the cold. There is a faint clack of claws on tree roots.Steady,he seems to say without words.
I remember the way he tore that raider apart. He could do that to me so easily.
Instead, he simply watches—pure male predator, virile and potent.
A whimper, small and helpless, escapes me. His ears twitch forward. His pupils widen. No tale could prepare me for being subject to such a gaze. How it burns hotter than any fire, permeating the cold ground and darkness with an otherworldly life and heat.
I swear I can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat once more.
He edges closer still until his muzzle touches my cheek, the soft fur sticky and damp. A metallic scent tells me it has blood. His snout drags along my jaw, inhaling me. I shudder. His tongue laps, tracing my vulnerable throat, tasting my skin.
I am frozen, locked under his spell. Aware of how his body heat penetrates my flimsy nightclothes.
A low growl rises and then shifts to a deep purr. When he pulls back, his muzzle hovers over my throat and his head tilts as though listening the frantic rhythm beneath my skin.
He huffs out air against my flesh before trailing his snout along my jaw again. More confident this time—and a little proprietary—he nuzzles beneath my ear, down to the hollow of my throat. A broken sob escapes my chattering teeth as I let go of some of my tension.
The world narrows to the beast and me, my instincts telling me he is dangerous, but not dangerous tome.
He steps back a pace, releasing me from the spell. The air is colder for his leaving. His presence had sheltered me. My skin tingles still where he licked.
He turns and fades into the darkness, a shadow reclaimed by the forest.
Only when he’s gone do I draw a shaky breath again, uncertain if the feeling in my chest is terror or not.
Carnality.
That is what lives under his skin, and now it is under mine too.
For a long moment, I stay there, unable to move, a strange heat stirring low in my womb.
I need to return home.
The thought startles me into action. I’m stiff and clumsy, my legs barely working. I push to my feet and stumble forward. Gradually my pace increases until I am running. Back to Merrywood, or whatever is left of it.
When the trees thin, I stumble out of the forest and stop.
Dawn lights the sky over Merrywood. The air is full of cries, wails, and bellowed orders. Buckets pass along a line of townsfolk from the well to a burning building. I set off at a run into the fray, my destination, the little shop belonging to Mistress Nina.
Bodies lie scattered where they fell, some mangled beyond recognition, others dragged into neat rows. A few more lay covered respectfully, with people gathering in clusters, holding one another in grief.
Goddess, please let Mistress Nina be safe.
I pass the smoldering remains of a storehouse, and as I turn the corner, the dressmaker’s shop comes into view. The tailor’s next door has been smashed and looted. But Mistress Nina’s shop is whole and untouched. Relief washes over me, but my steps falter as I draw near. My eyes settle, not on the shop door, but on the narrow painted green one to the right of the display window.
My door.
It bears three deep gouges, the edges jagged and splintered.
Another deep set of gouges scores the stone step.
