Her scream cuts through me like a dagger. Horse rearing, I twist Claren’s mare around and kick her into an urgent gallop.
She can’t be far. I’ve been following Velvet’s tracks while my guards scout the rest of the forest in case my horse has bucked her off. Hell only knows how she made it this deep into the woods without being attacked sooner. Perhaps my horse is smarter than he looks.
A flash of white peeks through the trees. Her wedding gown lies against a rock by the river.
When another scream cuts through me, I leap out of the saddle and race towards her. I spot Pumpkin first, mostly because my wife is covered with snarling wolves.
Soon-to-be-dead wolves.
Power rumbles through me, but I can’t use it yet without risking her. Grabbing the two nearest wolves, I tear them off her by the scruff of their necks.
“Tauren?” she squeaks. Pushing her to safety, I kick the other wolves away before one dives for me. I hit him with a burst of magic from my palm. His spine cracks against a tree trunk.
One down. A dozen more to go.
The wolves ignore Dahlia and charge for me, but I deal with them quickly, their teeth and claws no match for my power.
Three more are sent flying. Then another. And another.
Whipping out my dagger, I slit the throats of another five when I hear something leap behind me and Dahlia screams, “Don’t hurt him! Tauren, look out!”
I turn, expecting to find a wolf inches away from tearing into my face, when I freeze. There’s a wolf, yes, but his body is lowered and his ears are tucked back. With a drooping tail, he watches Dahlia submissively, almost as if he’s waiting for her to speak again.
“Get out of here!” she yells. Her blood-stained body cowers against a tree. “Take all your friends and go!” Her voice splinters.
The wolf bows its head, then disappears, bolting through the trees along with any stragglers from its pack that I hadn’t yet dealt with.
I stare at the scene, my mouth hanging open. Dahlia’s good with animals. My usually unfriendly horse loves her, and she’s got that puppy wrapped around her fingers, but to command a wolf…
“How did you do that?” I breathe.
Dahlia glances at me, chest heaving. “What?”
“You just told them to leave, and they listened.” Morning sun streams through the woods, the only sound now being leaves rustling in the wind and my pounding heart in my ears. “How did you do that?”
She’s not a demon, and she can’t be a glamoured faerie. I would’ve sensed her magic. Then again, there’s always been something different about her.
“I didn’t do anything. That was all you. They were probably just scared after you came along and decided the fight wasn’t worth it. They’re not stupid.”
“They’re animals, Dahlia,” I bite out. “They don’t think like that.”
“You underestimate them. Dogs are clever.” Somehow, my horse trots over to her and huffs, as if offended. “Horses too,” she adds, grinning at him.
Dragging a hand through my hair, I suck in a breath. I must’ve hit my head during the fight. This conversation is absurd. Dahlia is a human.My wifeis a human, no matter how monstrously she acted at the wedding.
The wedding. Anger thrums in my chest. The taste of pond water still lingers on my tongue. I’m about to demand an apology when Dahlia squeaks in pain.
“Careful, girl,” she tells Pumpkin, who’s settling in her lap. It’s then that I notice the blood soaking her corset and bloomers.
“Shit.” I drop my weapons, racing to her side. “Where does it hurt? Tell me.” I search her tiny body.
“Everywhere,” she groans. Red bite marks are already forming along her arms and shoulders. Her lower legs are scratched, but it’s nothing serious. It’s her right thigh that worries me. Blood coats the top of her leg, seeping into the lace of her bloomers.
I squeeze her hand to stop mine from shaking.
“I need to treat this.” I try to keep my breaths measured as I lay my cloak on the floor for her. I’m still dressed in my wedding suit, but my crown must’ve fallen off somewhere in the woods.
Lifting her gently, I place her onto my cloak. She’s freezing. I’ll make a fire soon. But I can’t think about that now. All I can focus on is the awful red puddle growing below her thigh.
