Page 31 of Crownless Heirs

Kyron spoke up before Maelan could, his eyes darting from the hound to the fresh marks on her skin. “What happened?”

Maelan added, pointing, “And what in the hells is that?”

She briefly looked at the curling scars on her shoulder, then down at the massive hound by her side. Its glowing eyes hadn’t left her.

“I can't explain it,” she replied.

Though she didn’t offer details, neither of them pressed. Well, Maelan did ask about the hound, but Sorcha insisted it was too much to explain right then. The hound moved ahead of them anyway, disappearing into the mist with a fluid grace. It stayed close, its form weaving in and out of the shadows, always visible but never fully clear. Behind her, she heard Maelan and Kyron whispering. Their hushed voices carried fragments of unspoken questions and exchanged doubts. Should they ask? What happened? Where did the hound come from?

Rather than linger on what couldn’t be explained, Sorcha let her attention drift to the creature ahead of them, its form still half shrouded by mist.

She exhaled through her nose, muttering under her breath, “Are you really a dog?”

The hound’s ears twitched, acknowledging the question without offering an answer.

She narrowed her eyes, suspicion already forming. “You’re not going to change into something else, are you? A fae? A person?”

The hound paused mid-step, slowly turning its head to look at her. The stare it gave her was deliberate, as if weighing whether to respond at all. Sorcha frowned and shifted her attention to Maelan instead, her eyes narrowing further.

He arched an eyebrow. “Why are you looking at me?”

She didn’t answer, merely flicked her gaze back to the hound, then back to him.

Kyron groaned behind her. “Gods, no. Please no. We barely tolerate one of you.”

Maelan clutched his chest. “I’m hurt.”

Sorcha didn’t believe him for a second.

The hound let out a short gruff; the sound was oddly timed, as if it were amused. Then, without a sound, it slipped from view again, vanishing into the fog.

Sorcha rubbed her arm, her fingers brushing the scars. “I feel like that was an answer,” she muttered, “and I don’t like it.”

Maelan’s grin spread wide across his face. “Well, if it turns into something else, I hope it’s a she and she is prettier than me.”

Kyron scoffed loudly. “Not possible.”

Maelan’s hand flew to his chest again, more dramatically this time. “Flattery, Kyron? You think I’m pretty.”

“No, not like that. I meant it won’t change. Gods, Maelan, can you stop it?” Kyron was flustered, and Maelan was loving it.

Sorcha began walking faster, trying to get ahead of both of them, but they matched her pace easily. Even though the hound was no longer in sight, she could still feel its presence hovering nearby, flickering in and out of the mist.

It reappeared beside her without warning. She sighed, then spoke without turning. “You’d tell me if you weren’t really a dog, right?”

The hound remained still, its glowing eyes focused ahead, giving no sign it had heard her at all.

Kyron laughed behind her. “You’re asking it again?”

“It’s a valid question,” she shot back, defensive now.

Kyron turned to Maelan, his expression full of mock consideration. “What do you think? Hound? Dog? Wolf? Ancient cursed shapeshifter?”

Maelan didn’t hesitate. “All the above.” Then, with the enthusiasm of someone who had just named a star, he added, “Maybe we should just call it… Dog.”

Kyron let out a delighted laugh, the sound echoing too loudly in the fog.

Sorcha scowled and glared at Maelan. “It’s not like I wanted you around in the first place; if you name something, you get attached to it.”