“I’ll go inside with him so you don’t have to—”
“No.” The word left me too sharp, too fast, and Brumous cocked his head in question. “Stay. Please.”
Cas exhaled through his nose, spun on the heel of his boot, and went for more firewood.
2. Uncertainty Between Us
Casimir Cimmerian
I monitored the scene before me with the same detached precision I’d use evaluating a tactical situation. Heart rate: Elevated. Breathing: Shallow.
The source of my physiological response lounged carelessly on the manicured lawn of Evermere, tossing a stick for Brumous.
The dire wolf pup scrambled after it, his oversized paws churning divots into the grass, powerful jaws snapping at air. All I could see were the razor-sharp teeth that could sever an artery with one playful nip, the knife-like claws that could disembowel my beloved with a single swipe. My hands clenched into fists at my sides as I calculated trajectories, imagining the hundred different ways this peaceful scene could transform into a bloodbath.
Dire wolves weren’t pets. They were apex predators with enough bite force to crush bone. This one might be stunted from Arabesque’s experiments, but his genetic imperatives remained unchanged: Breed, eat, hold territory. The fact that Seri had somehow formed an attachment to the animal didn’t alter these fundamentals. She might as well cuddle a loaded firearm with the safety off.
Zane sprawled beside them, his red hair bright against the green as he scratched Brumous behind the ears, completely ignoring the potential disaster unfolding. The wolf’s rear leg thumped against the ground, and Seri’s resulting laugh sent a distracting warmth through my chest.
I turned away, mapping my retreat to the pergola where I could monitor from a safer distance. The vulnerability softening my edges was becoming dangerous, sidetracking me from properly assessing threats. I needed space to recalibrate.
“Running away?” Koa’s deep voice stopped me. My youngest brother stood like a mountain in my path, arms crossed over his broadchest, expression unreadable except for the slight lift at the corner of his mouth.
“I’m not running. I’m repositioning for better situational awareness.” The lie tasted metallic. Koa always saw through me.
“Admit it,” he said, dark eyes steady on mine. “You’re concerned about a creature that still trips over its own tail.”
My spine straightened automatically.
“I am simply—”
“Causing Seri’s smile to dim every time you call him ‘that animal.’ ” The accusation hit with precision, landing exactly where my defenses were weakest.
I glanced at Seri, thinking of the subtle changes in her whenever I approached now, the way her shoulders tensed, how her hand would protectively settle on Brumous’ scruff. The data didn’t lie.Iwas the variable causing her distress.
Brumous rolled onto Zane’s back, paws cycling through air as Seri laughed again. Her braid was coming undone, golden strands catching golden sunlight. The sight burned into my memory with photographic detail: Her small hands, still red and cracked from her stepmother’s abuse, now freely touching that animal’s fur. The contrast between her delicate wrists and Brumous’ jaws sent a fresh wave of anxiety through my system.
“She’s overstimulating him,” I muttered, noting the twitch in Brumous’ hindquarters. “Play should be structured. Five minutes of chase, ten of—”
“Ten of you sulking?” Ko’s eyebrow lifted, his palm warm and heavy on my shoulder. “Your tactical assessment is flawed, Cas.”
“How so?”
“You’re only calculating risk, not benefit. Look at her. Reallylook.”
I did. Seri’s cheeks were flushed, eyes bright. In the weeks since we’d rescued her from Arabesque’s clutches, she’d gained weight, her skin taking on a healthier glow. My mind automatically charted the improvements: Ten point increase in estimated caloric intake, fifteen percent decrease in cortisol indicators, significant increase in spontaneous verbalization such as laughter.
Seri chose that moment to lunge for the stick Brumous was gnawing. The pup yipped, skidding sideways into her, and she tumbled over, landing palms-down in the clover with a sound that spiked my pulse before I recognized it as amusement, not pain.
“You’re holding your breath,” Ko said.
“Am not.”
“Are, too. Every time she touches him.” His thumb pressed the junction of my collar bone, where I could feel the rabbit-quick thud without his intervention. “Your pulse is racing. Pupils dilated. You’re in fight-or-flight, Cas.”
I shrugged away from his touch, irritated by the accuracy of his assessment. He’d always been unnervingly perceptive, dissecting emotional states like I did battle strategies.
“He’s utterly devoted to her,” Koa’s voice dropped so only I could hear. “Sometimes you just have to trust, brother.”
