The smell of ash hits my nose in a rush, leaving me to cough up a lung.I didn’t need that anyway.
Shuffling around in my cramped cage, I find a very naked, large man. “Goddess, couldn’t warn a girl?” I exclaim, closing my eyes, but not before taking an eyeful of a very large part of his anatomy.
“For a mute girl, you are awfully chatty,” he retorts, and I give him a scowl, shuffling around in my confined space so I can freely open my eyes without being assaulted.
“Are you at least going to wear some clothes this time?” I echo into the tunnel ahead.
“I would be wearing clothes if I didn’t have to save a certain songbird hurtling towardscertain death.”
Songbird?
Giving him a grunt, I cross my arms and mumble, “It’s not my fault your wardens are a bunch of chickens.”
“Yes, well, luckily, I am not a chicken.”
“No, you are definitely not,” I mutter, remembering the very naked parts of him that do not remind me of a chicken. Far, far from a chicken, indeed.
He gives me pause as a growly chuckle reverberates from his chest, leaving me all warm and tingly.
I clutch my crossed arms tighter to my body and wait.This brute will not get to me. I have no space for a dyre wolf in my life.Small creatures with multiple legs are one thing, but a fully grown dyre wolf is another.
Wren and Argus are enough. Considering my future currently looks very bleak, it’s best I do not turn dream about warm beasts who save my arse and feed starving children.
No doubt I will wake up in the morning and be set to death before the two suns pass.
Without any further preamble, probably sensing my downer mood, Gideon takes my cage and hauls me through a rapidly roasting tunnel until we are met with a furnace and the oddly lush aroma of spice and wolfman.
Before taking another eyeful, I rush to close my eyes before he once again carefully places my cage down on the dusty stone floor. A wave of dust particles reaches up to tickle my nose, and I sneeze, reminding me of the laceration on my head.
Wincing, I squeeze my eyes. Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, I am starting to notice a dull throb throughout my skull.
In my wallowing, I haven’t noticed Gideon’s movements. “Here,” he says as something wet lands on my lap.
“What?” My eyes fly open. On my lap lies a warm, wet rag.
I look up and find Gideon dressed in simple black clothing, crouched in front of my very open cage. A slight pang of disappointment hits my chest at his clothed figure, and I quickly ignore it.
“Your self-preservation knows no bounds, Songbird.” He calls me that name again, and a hand big enough to reach fully around one of my thighs goes for the rag.
“Hey!” I snap at him, going for the material and instead finding roughed, calloused fingers. He retreats instantly as if I burnt him with my witchy powers.
Gideon lowers his eyes towards the ground, taking in a deep, long breath, releasing it before looking me dead in the eyes. “Come out of the cage, and I will tend to your wounds.”
He stretches his hand back towards me. A hand strong enough to crush a throat within movements now offers comfort.Who is this wolfman?
My mouth opens, but no words come out, and I look down at his hand, blinking rapidly. With this small act of kindness, my thoughts lead me down a winding path.Will he want something from me? My life has never been one of comfort, my body a vessel for others to use as they see fit. Gideon works for the king. He is my enemy. But he was feeding the villagers, and he is offering to clean my wounds.
Gentle, strong fingers touch my chin and make me meet quizzical, squinting eyes so dark that no white can be seen. I should be frightened, but I welcome this monster’s wrath because I’m a monster, too.I killed her. I killed her. I am a murderer. They are right. Maybe I am a witch.
“Come, Songbird, I will not harm you.” His words contradict the waves of rage radiating off his body. “My anger is not for you.” The truth of his statement washes over me.It’s genuine. His wrath is not for me.
I grasp his still proffered hand, and warmth dowses my limbs. With this small act of kindness from my gruff beast, I allow myself to relax.
He cautiously guides my body out of the too-tight cage and leads me towards a round table in front of the hefty furnace encompassing a large portion of the back wall. Four chairs surround the table, and he guides me towards a seat next to a shallow dish of water.
The heat from the furnace is welcoming compared to the cold air that greeted me when I entered the streets of Haven. The odd sensation of my skin beginning to drip makes me squeamish, but I dare not move with tormented eyes watching my every move.
Once I’m settled, Gideon gets to work dipping his wet rag in the dish and patting the top of my head. I flinch, but he does not stop his fussing for a few solid movements of time.
