Two. His knee drove into my right thigh, the muscle there seizing like overstrung fence wire.
Three. His elbow connected with my chest, right where it ached from the siphoning, and air fled from my lungs in a silent rush.
Four.Fire erupted along my left arm as a claw raked across it, tearing a gasp from my raw throat. My skin parted like overripe fruit, bone gleaming against muscle before blood welled in a flood.
“Must you make such a mess, Claudio?” Arabesque chided.
“You said to teach, not coddle.” The werewolf stood and stepped back, licking his bloody fingers.
“True, but mind the merchandise. She has to be functional.”
My vision tunneled. Each heartbeat sent fresh agony radiating from the gash in my upper arm. I pressed my uninjured hand over it, my fingers slipping in the warmth pooling between them.
Arabesque knelt, and her cold fingertips brushed my brow.
“Let me be very clear, Serafina,” she murmured. “Cross the house’s threshold again without my express permission, and the nextlesson Claudio gives will be in the nursery. I’ll have him teach you how easily your baby sister bruises.”
“Cribs make good coffins, little dove,” the rogue laughed.
Ice flooded my veins at the threat.
No! Not Josslyn!I screamed in my head.
Arabesque stood, and she and Claudio left. I counted each retreating footstep until the woods around me was silent again. Only then did I let the tears fall, hot and furious, blending with the blood soaking my shirt.
#
The world swayed as I stumbled toward the house, my arm throbbing with every step. Blood seeped through the makeshift bandage, a torn strip from the bottom of my shirt, and dripped onto the dirt path like a trail of red breadcrumbs.
When my legs stopped cooperating, I crawled, dragging myself using fistfuls of chickweed as anchors. Stones bit into my palms and dirt packed beneath my torn nails, but I made it to the back porch.
That’s where my stomach revolted. I retched bile and shame between the hydrangeas, my shoulders shaking. Directly above my head, Josslyn’s bedroom window stayed dark.
Good. No one was there disturbing her sweet dreams.
Brumous found me, whining as he sniffed my mangled arm. I buried my face in his ruff, grateful for his warmth. The cold wasn’t just on my skin anymore; it wasinme, coiled around my ribs, squeezing my lungs until every breath was a struggle, sharp and shallow.
“Hush,” I whispered, even though the pup made no sound. “We’re still here, aren’t we?”
As I staggered to my feet, leaning heavy on Brumous, I noticed how the thick spring mist veiled the eastern woods. Was it dense enough to hide a girl, a baby, and a pup in its haze?
Even if it is,I sighed to myself,it wouldn’t erase our scent from werewolf noses.
As Brumous helped me inside, I nearly laughed at the irony. A dire wolf was my only ally in this nest of vipers. And yet, I had the notion that Mama would have approved.
“Maybe Mama sent you,” I panted as we climbed the stairs. “Sent you to help me. What do you think, Brummy?”
He huffed a little, but I couldn’t tell if it was a chuckle or a sigh. Maybe something halfway between the two.
Finally, I made it to my bathroom and leaned against the doorframe, catching my breath as I glanced down at my arm. The wound was deep and still bleeding, and I didn’t have anything to treat itproperly. No salves, no medicine, not even bandages. Arabesque kept all of that locked up; if I wanted it, I would have to beg or barter for it.
Brumous padded toward me, his eyes wide and anxious. He nudged my leg gently, almost as if he were saying,Seri hurt.
“It’s okay, Brummy. Just a scratch. I’ll be fine.”
He whined softly at the lie.
He felt it. Iknewhe did. He felt it all, the ache, the fear, the despair. And yet, he stayed by my side, loyal and unwavering, when he could have run away so many times before.
