That’s when he opens his mouth, bares his teeth—and growls.
I snatch my hand back, my heart slamming against my ribs.
“No! Bad boy!”
The sound he makes, low and threatening, scrapes along my spine like a rusted blade. For the first time, I really see him. Not the adorable, lovable mutt I brought home from Hayes’s driveway. Not the dog I imagined walking down the beach with in our matching skulls and crossbones bandanas.
The creature in front of me now is something else. Tense. Dangerous. Muscles ripple beneath his fur, and his eyes—those bright golden eyes—don’t look so playful anymore.
They look primal.
Predatory.
Andhis teeth?—
God, his teeth look like they could rip straight through a person. Long and curved like daggers. Not just sharp—lethal.
Even though he’s never acted aggressive toward me before, the realization hits me all at once. He could hurt me if he wanted to.
Badly.
Hell, he couldkillme.
The growling intensifies, darker and heavier, vibrating in the air between us.
“Dog, no. Please…”
My voice trembles as I raise my hands, palms out, and slowly step back.
Hayes was right.
I should be afraid.
This animal is so big. So strong. I don’t know where he came from. Don’t know who owned him before me, or what he might’ve been trained to do.
Did he really get lost? Or did someone let him go… on purpose?
A shiver snakes up my spine as one of my mother’s most terrifying stories slinks out from the dark crevices of memory—tales of monstrous canine creatures from the other world. Massive. Bloodthirsty. Bound to the will of the Underworld’s rulers.
She called them hellhounds.
Their purpose: to hunt humans. Track them down on Earth and drag them, screaming, into the shadows below. She said once they caught your scent—once they smelled your blood—they never let go.
My breath catches.
What if?—
But before I can really go there, logic kicks in. Followed by a sharp stab of embarrassment.
What the hell is wrong with me?
The dog isn’t growling at me.
He isn’t even looking at me anymore.
Instead, his gaze is fixed on the woods across the trail, ears twitching, body coiled tight, eyes locked on something I can’t see.
I squint, scanning the trees, trying to make out what’s got him so on edge. Probably just a coyote or a bobcat. Maybe a raccoon. It’s too dark to tell.
