“But believe it or not, I haven’t eaten in days, and my body is starting to feel it. Wolves need a lot of fuel, Sunshine.”
“Don’t call me that,” I mutter.
And guilt returns with a vengeance, which isn’t right. It isn’t right that I should feel responsible for him, that in the space of a day, I’ve started viewing him as a fellow human or fae being.
“Untie him from the tree,” I say, my voice shaking. “And give him food. Meat. Wolves like their meat, don’t you, wolf?”
“Yeah,” he says, the rasp in his voice more present than ever. “We like meat. And water.”
“And water,” I add. “Bring some water.”
“My lady…” Burt scratches the back of his head. “We’ll need to take off his muzzle to let him eat. Are you sure about this?”
Shit. I hadn’t thought that far. Sure? No. Not at all. He should suffer. He should starve and thirst. He should die.
But even a flea-ridden dog is offered food.
He’s not… Gods, I’m now in charge of this hulking werewolf, at least, until we’re on the way, and this conundrum is one I never thought I’d have to face.
Save the wolf so we can shake him loose later.
If he doesn’t attack us.
If it doesn’t come to a fight of life and death between us.
Which he will inevitably win.
Since when do I depend on the promise of a monster?
“Fine,” I finally manage. “Muzzle off. But the hands remain tied.”
“My lady.” Kier approaches the man, and I step back, wishing I had some weapon on myself. It seems my instinctive fear won’t be reined in.
And that’s fine. The first time the wolves came, I hadn’t believed it. This time, I know to keep my distance.
“I’ll go bring some food and water,” Bert announces and goes away so fast I wonder if he got cold feet all of a sudden. It isn’t like him.
Meanwhile, Kier unties the wolf from the trunk of the tree, and Valen just… stumbles two steps and drops to his knees, his muscular frame bowed over, head bent over his tied hands.
Oh Gods.Why is my heart in my throat? “What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s bleeding,” Kier hazards, gesturing at him. “And hasn’t been fed. These beasts need a lot of sustenance, don’t they? The magic won’t feed you. It takes from you, every transformation sapping up your energy.”
There is a buzzing in my ears. Seeing Valen on the ground throws me back into my memories, and it’s me lying there, weak and faint.
He’s been bleeding and going hungry and thirsty. Since when didIturn into a monster?
No.I step back. I can’t let my heart soften even for a moment. He’s not a puppy; he’s a huge wolf who can tear my throat out the moment I relax my defenses.
“What should I do with him?” Kier’s expression is guarded, but then it hardens. The gaze he turns on Valen is murderous. “Now he’s weakened, it’s a good time to get rid of him. We can say he got unlucky. He caught on fire. Walked into a blade. Accidents happen.”
A wheezing sound comes from Valen. Is he… laughing?
How… how dare he. Finally, anger rushes back in, replacing the weight of that strange guilt.
“Take off his muzzle,” I say. “Let him eat. We have a plan. I won’t let Stepfather think even for a moment that I’ll cower.”
That’s what he wants. He wants me gone, but he also wants to see me terrified, sobbing on my knees, mired in mindless panic, and that won’t happen.
