I knelt there, unable to look away.
My stress slowly melted, thanks to the meditative beauty of fire.
All I focused on was the flames, feeling as if heaven had somehow merged with hell.
A silhouette moved in my peripheral, wrenching my attention into the maze of flowers. The blackest shadow slinked through the foliage, the yellow and orange of a thousand fires glinting off its pelt.
Staggering to my feet, I braced myself as the panther left the garden and slinked silently up the steps to the front portico of the palace.
I didn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.
My hair stood on end as the giant beast came close enough to sniff me, its whiskers tickling my forearm. I bit my lip as it prowled around me, its shoulders as tall as my hips, its tail coiling around me like a velveteen vine.
It huffed as it came to a stop in front of me. Its matching fiery eyes met mine and I swear it meant me no harm.
Not that I would touch it.
I wasn’t suicidal enough to stroke a panther and think it would appreciate it.
With a cough like spitting up a hairball, the huge predator spat something at my feet.
I backed up, my throat so bruised I could barely swallow, let alone scream.
With another huff, it nudged the small item it’d just delivered before leaping off the steps and loping into the garden.
It vanished amongst the fire and flame.
I didn’t know what was worse. Being judged by it where I could see it or being hunted by it where I couldn’t.
Another shudder worked through me, thanks to the icy English night.
Judging by the moon, I guessed it was close to two a.m.
I’d gotten used to telling the time based on the location of stars and sunshine. Mainly because I refused to have my cell phone attached to me and my inability to wear a watch. Just like I couldn’t handle corporate or charitable life, I couldn’t even handle the pressure of ticking time.
It reminded me that my only means of survival came across as lazy to other people. That every hour I napped or every minute I did nothing more than watch the clouds passing by was an hour and minute that others scrimped and slaved to survive.
Rubbing my goosebump-covered arms, I shoved those thoughts away.
None of that mattered now.
Whatdidmatter was finding shelter or at least a damn blanket so I wouldn’t freeze by morning.
Moving toward the stairs, I eyed the item the panther had dropped off.
Bracing against leftover vertigo from being half-strangled to death, I picked up the small tin box and gingerly wiped the feline saliva off it.
Cracking it open, a single pill rested inside. Quite a large pill. Round and silver and glossy.
Snapping the lid closed, I peered into the garden again.
Why had it brought me this?
Was it poison or a painkiller?
Surely a panther wasn’t intelligent enough to know I hurt and delivered help which meant...did Lucien Ashfall give me this?
Peering at the box again, I clutched it tight and headed into the flaming garden as if I could outrun the memory of his eyes, his touch, his fury.
