Jumping from the chair, he raced out of the library.
He inhaled through his nose as he moved through the eastern wing. He could neither smell Isa’s unique scent nor hear her light footfall or confident voice.
He pushed through the double doors of the great hall and stepped out into the rain. It was pouring.
“Isabel!” he called, projecting his voice as loudly as he could. “Isabel!”
The sound of rushing liquid filled his ears. Whether it was the water rising in the canyon down the hill or merely the blood rushing through his eardrums, he could not tell. All he knew was that it fueled his fear.
“Isabel!” He ran down the road, wiping the rain from his eyes as he went.
The falling water deprived him of both scent and sound, barraging his senses with its presence. He focused his eyes on the road ahead, scanning the ground for movement.
“Isabel!” His heart thumped, threatening to overpower even his eyesight. Fear pulsed through him as he struggled to focus through the hazy shadows pressing against his vision. “No, no!” he roared to the emptiness around him. His vision was returning to the state it had been when he’d first woken up to the curse. “Isabel!!”
The canyon was almost in view now. The rushing sound in his ears grew louder.
He saw a movement on the side of the path before he fully recognized the shape of her body. She was on her hands and knees, attempting to lift herself off the ground.
She was covered in blood.
“Isabel!” he howled, a deep, primal roar. All he could see was the deep, bright red of her blood. Its metallic scent, mixed with mud and water, hit his nostrils as he arrived at her side.
In a single smooth motion, he scooped her off the ground, then ran back up the hill as fast as he dared.
He could feel the thick, sticky substance of her blood pulling against his fur as she clung to him.
He could not see her face, but her arms were firm around his neck, holding him tightly.
His lungs begged for air as he pushed himself back up the hill. He growled out a fear-filled sob.
“Aden! Aden.”
He was almost to the villa when he realized that she had been repeating his name.
“Listen to me, Aden!”
He kicked open the door, gently lowering his precious burden on the nearest sofa. He gasped for air, his eyes scanning her body in search of the wound.
“What happened?” he growled. “Who did this to you?”
“Nothing, no one.” She grabbed his face between her hands, forcing him to still. “I slipped in the mud. I’m fine. What’s wrong?”
“You are not fine!” he roared. “Where did all this blood come from?”
“What blood? There is no blood.” She removed her hands from his face, her head lifting from the couch to examine her own body.
“Then what are you covered in?” Using the rounded side of one of his claws, Aden gently wiped some of the gooey substance from her arm. Bringing it to his nose, he sniffed it lightly. Dirt. Wet dirt. “It’s mud,” he breathed, licking it just in case. “Just mud.”
Unable to hold himself up, he collapsed to his knees. Dropping his head against the side of the sofa, he gasped for air. He felt her hand on the back of his head.
“Aden, what’s going on?” Her voice was quiet, confused.
“It’s mud,” he repeated, reassuring himself. “It’s brown. Not red.”
Slowly, his senses returned as his heart rate steadied to a normal pace. The feeling of her hand on the back of his anchored him as he breathed.
“Then why do I still smell blood?” He looked up alarmed, when the distinctly metallic scent once again hit his nostrils. Squinting his eyes, he scanned her body for wounds.
