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A pair of brown eyes drowning in pain greeted me.

I froze for a moment, realizing the trapped young man was conscious and that if I wanted to get him out quickly there was no hiding my supernatural strength. Gritting my teeth I got back to work, hoping the poor sod was delirious enough, after spending at least a day under rubble, that he would chalk my prowess up to a hallucination.

Piece by piece, I freed his body. He was lucky the big pieces didn’t crush him completely but he was far from being unscathed by the experience. I winced when I noticed his hands were tied together and connected to one of the fallen beams. A prisoner, then. The dusty uniform confirmed the young man belonged to the English army. As I gingerly pulled him out and his pained groans echoed around us I spotted a bloodied hand peeking out of the wreckage but with my enhanced senses I knew there was only one survivor here.

I assessed the wounds. Cleaned and bandaged what I could. It quickly became obvious to me that the young boy didn’t have much of a chance without proper medical assistance. I had a feeling a field hospital the English army had somewhere around here wasn’t going to be enough.

The young man clutched at my arm as I fed him water.

He needed urgent care. A proper hospital... or healing magic.

“Goddamit,” I swore, cursing my heart for thawing at the most inconvenient moment.

Still, I transported the boy, who looked no more than sixteen, to my car and brought him back with me to the fennec fox shifters.

“You have broken our contract,” the matriarch of the shifters looked at me with narrowed eyes as I held the fragile body in my arms in front of the gathering of elders.

“I know,” I said, bowing my head. I did promise not to reveal their location to any humans. “I will pay my due but, please, help him.”

The Elders shared looks; from displeasure, to pity, and even reluctant admiration. I had been a great asset to them during this war time and, while they were known to hold their grudges, they paid equal attention to settling their debts.

“We shall heal the boy,” the Matriarch agreed. “But once he is well enough he will leave and you with him, never to return.”

I felt a brief pang at losing this community, but this wasn’t home, never home. I could move on.

I bowed my head again and accepted the judgment.

The boy was put into a healing sleep and woke up three days later.

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

“You... speak English...” the boy said weakly, visibly relieved he could understand me. I knew the healer who had fetched me when the boy awoke spoke only Afrikaans so this reaction was understandable. “You... saved me.”

“I got you out from under the rubble, yes. Though it’s the doctors here who really saved you. I’m Tristan. What’s your name, young man?”

“Matthias, sir,” the young soldier said. “I... were there others? Where you found me?”

I nodded, then as hope swelled in those warm brown eyes I shook my head and watched how the light dimmed as Matthias understood there were no other survivors.

“Those bastards!” he spat with venom, his hands curling tight.

“The Italians took a big blow...” I tried to soothe.

Matthias made a sound between a sob and a laugh.

“No, no, that’s not it... I know the Italians who captured me got their asses kicked. I could hear them screaming and scrambling around... the bombs falling on our heads...” He swallowed hard. “The bombs... My squad spotted the advance of the Italian forces and reported they were there before we got captured. The army brass knew we were there. At the camp. Whatever Sergeant, or Major, or fucking General gave the order to blitz this place to kingdom come knew we were there, kept prisoner. And they didn’t care. Theydidn’t care.”

After centuries of keeping myself on the fringe and not letting myself wallow in human emotions, whether happy or sad, I didn’t know how to comfort this pitiful creature in front of me. But if not me then who else?

I reached out a hand and laid it on the shaking shoulder.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Matthias dried his tears with an angry gesture. “Unlike my countrymen, you didn’t fail me. My own country killed my squad mates and nearly killed me,” His expression changed to one of resolution. “No, notnearly. They did kill me. They expected me to die for them? Let’s make their expectations come true. I’m not going back. I’m not going back to this war. Don’t make me.”

He looked at me as if I had any say in this matter. With desperation and hope for guidance. With trust.

I really tried not to care about him. To cut our ties once he was healthy enough and we had to leave the fennecs’ hospitality. But the young man was stubborn like a dog with a bone and he stuck to my side no matter how hard I tried to shake him.