Page 5

CHAPTER 4

The Red and The Wolfie

WOLFIE & ALIA

Wolfie

T he grin transformed her. She was at once enigmatic and open, a curious blend of killer instincts and probing empath.

But that grin. It took her features and made her… stunning. She was not beautiful in the typical sense of the word for werewolves. Most mates met when they were in wolven form under the light of the full moon. Fated mates—were they even a thing—only occurred under the light of the Blood Moon which occurred once every three years. In all actuality, I am aware enough to say it is not entirely that I do not believe in fated mates—my sister met hers, after all. It is a sense of anguish which drives me to unbelief, for even were it a possibility, Source would not see fit to give me such a beloved creature. I am too dark for such a bond.

I have tasted evil and bathed in blood. It would be too much for a regular mate, much less one of the priceless, fated variety.

This little sprite before me—who saw fit to first kidnap me from the first of many celebrations of the upcoming Blood Moon —brings something else by her presence. My wolf was oddly tame around her. He was not one to permit such bondage, but by her hands, he was… content?

Which set me on edge. She stabbed me, for goodness sake. I had killed for less. But with my inner demon so tame, it caused a sense of curiosity I knew I was better without. I just could not seem to curb the odd emotion.

I knew one of us would die. There was no way she would let me live, and there was no way I could let her continue to slaughter my kind.

Funny how a war can be so very bloody even when there is no battle.

With Lycus placated and serene, I could nearly relax for a moment in time. It was a heady sensation. He usually cried for the lifeblood of those who had wronged us. Even perceived slights had ended in a shift and bloodied jaws as Lycus asserted his dominance.

Not with her.

The moon was full, so he should be aching for freedom from our human form. Instead, he was content watching this little parasite. Even so, I knew that in a few hours, when the full moon would rise high in the sky, I would need to show my hand and take off the collar or else it would strangle me when my wolf was forced to shift.

The girl glanced up, her blue eyes sparkling as if with some inner joke, and she met my gaze. My wolf edged up, pricking his ears at her nearness, scenting the gentle hues of lilac and chamomile and sunshine and blood upon her. Her grin slowly faded as if she remembered where we were and what I was, and my heart gave a painful beat in my chest. I gritted my teeth.

Pull yourself together. It is not as if she were a damsel you can woo. She is a hunter of all magic, an enemy of my kind, and she has chained me to a chair as if I were common rabble.

As if you’re complaining, Lycus, my wolf, said. This is as good a vacation as we ’ ll get. She stitched us up when you were about to bleed out.

As if that would be enough to kill me, I replied.

Losing blood is considered an easy way to die, he said, snarky humor coating his voice.

I ignored him, my eyes followed the Red as she walked over to her unicorn—another oddity. I had never seen a Red ride a murderous grunt as that. From the unicorn, she stole a portion of meat.

The unicorn grumbled and showed her shark-like teeth, but otherwise did not protest. I rose a brow, unable to contain a hint of surprise.

Then the girl was before me, amusement in her eyes. “The little pup needs to be fed.”

My eyebrow twitched. “Then give him the meat.”

“He’s been fed meat for a while, but he’s still malnourished. He needs to be fed as a wolf, not as a common dog.”

It took a moment for her words to penetrate. A languid blink shuttered the surprise I felt gathering in my eyes. Was she really asking what I thought she was asking? “Alas, I cannot. Such a thing is for she-wolves.”

“Do you wish the pup to starve?” she asked, her big blue eyes blinking with pure innocence.

“You do it.”

“Alas, I cannot,” she said, mocking my accent. “I don’t have the enzymes in my saliva to break down the meat in the way the pup needs.”

A growl built low in my throat, but I swallowed it down. She’s enjoying watching you squirm, Lycus said with a hint of admiration.

I do not squirm, I replied.

He snorted.

“I will not?—”

“Should you do this, I’ll take off the collar.”

I paused with my mouth open. What?

“I will take off the collar,” she said, spacing each word as if I were slow. But there was a hint of a lemony scent around her. The scent of fear.

Why would she offer something if she were so afraid? Did she not know the collar was the only thing keeping me from turning into a wolf and slaughtering her?

I struggled against squirming like a pup caught eating the chickens. Lycus chuckled. This way you won’t need to tip your hand too soon, he rumbled with a bit of hope mixed with contemplation. We had dyed our fur to visit Niva and her pack to not tip away what I was, but that did not last beyond a shift.

What is it about her you are so keen to know? We should kill her sooner than later. You understand what is waiting upon our return.

More killing. More forced pain. We are free for a time, so let ’ s enjoy this.

You know when we return we will be punished. There will be no more visits to this little vixen.

All the more reason to enjoy it now.

I sighed. “Fine. I will feed—” I choked off, attempting to tame my suddenly roiling stomach.

The kidnapper grinned. “Great!” She plopped the meat down in my lap. I looked at it as if it were feces a cat drug in.

“Are you not going to release me?” I asked, wiggling my hands behind me.

She snorted. “As if you haven’t already untied and retied those knots. Free yourself, idiot.”

A dark chuckle rumbled from my lips. She glanced up at the sound, her eyes widening and lips parting. A part of me wished to touch those lips, to see if they were as soft as they looked.

Down, boy, I whispered to Lycus.

Don ’ t blame me for your faults, he replied with an imperious snort.

Dragon snot.

I untied the knots and attempted to take off the collar, but what I found at the end was not the usual knot. The silver diminished my strength, so I could not just break the chain. Hold up. It was spelled.

I glanced up at the girl, who had a smirk on her lips. Infuriating. Absolutely infuriating.

Then why are you smiling? Lycus asked.

Alia

His smile faded from his face. He looked as if I’d just taken his favorite toy away. “You cheated,” he said.

I shook my head. “Nope. I just used every resource available.”

“Reds are supposed to be killers of magic, correct? Are you such hypocrites as to use magic to kill magic?”

I didn’t allow the pain to show. He asked a question that had long bothered me. I couldn’t allow him to see he’d hit a nerve. “Feed the little one. He’s hungry.” The pup’s need grew sharper.

The pup had been without nutrition for too long. His ribs could easily be felt beneath his thick coat and he stumbled as he walked. I glanced over as the puppy took a faltering step and his knees gave out. He collapsed into the dirt. My heart trembled as the need jabbed into the walls around my soul. He needed nutrients now. He was much closer to death than I would’ve given him credit for.

I had to free the werewolf.

The one who would kill me as soon as he was free.

“Promise me you’ll feed the puppy,” I hissed.

His eyes grew dark as he studied my face. He gave a single, succinct nod.

Fear tried to stay my hand. My fingers shook as I reached up. I had a blade in one hand, ready to stab his kidney.

As soon as the collar pulled free with a slurp, he spun quicker than he should’ve been able with the blood loss and wolfsbane. He grabbed my neck, his eyes boring into mine as if he could see past my walls and look on my very soul.

As I stared my death in the face, I wondered if I hadn’t been searching for it, for the moment in time when everything would move me from this life to the next. To the end of the killing. To finally find succor from the guilt plaguing my steps.

But I wouldn’t give in easily. I would go out kicking and screaming.

I pricked at his skin with my blade.

“It would take very little to kill you, Little Red, while another stab wound would not kill me—” He cut off as Ran put her horn against his back, right where she could easily pierce through ribs to drive directly into his heart.

His eyes widened. “You inspire such loyalty in a unicorn?” His voice twisted with disgust, and yet it also held a contemplation and curiosity that was likely bad for my health.

He squeezed my neck one last time, just enough for me to know he could’ve easily killed me, then he raised his hands.

I stepped back, swallowing through my bruised throat. “Feed him,” I commanded.

“Must I?” He clenched his fists over air where one of his knives used to be before I’d unarmed him. As he glanced over at the wolf, he moved that way as though without his permission. He dropped to a knee by the puppy, picking up the little one who whimpered.

“Still alive,” the werewolf whispered.

He grabbed the meat and chewed it, then gently pried open the pup’s mouth to set the meat within.

He rubbed the pup’s sides rigorously to get blood flowing and breathed in his nose. “Come now, do not give up,” he whispered.

I was entranced, watching this werewolf who had spoken to me with such scorn become suddenly soft.

The puppy chewed. I leaned back against the wall as my legs grew weak with relief. The werewolf continued his ministrations until the puppy gave another pitiful whine and at long last blinked open his eyes.

Did I imagine a sigh of relief from the werewolf?

The puppy sat up with a strength that bellied the poor lifeless thing he’d been a moment ago. He licked the werewolf’s chin. The werewolf set a hand on the pup’s head, a low chuckle escaping him. The sound held none of the dark humor from before. Instead it was a light sound, one of happiness and reprieve.

This man wanted to kill me. Would have, if not for Ran. Could I really be contemplating allowing him to live?

The pup took the meat from the adult werewolf as if he were his mom. Which was nothing short of comical.

Since the danger had passed, the werewolf’s squeamishness had returned. Every few bites, he’d gag, trying not to swallow the raw meat.

When he shot me a look of absolute pleading, and the pup was licking his chin in respect and near hero-worship, I bit my tongue to keep from laughing.

“Regurgitation is better for the pup,” I said casually. From the corner of my eye came a flash of light. My hand jerked up, catching a… I blinked at it. “Did you throw a spoon at me?” I asked. Where did he get a freakin’ spoon? Better yet, why didn’t he kill me with it?

I was flirting with death by releasing him, but the little puppy was closer to death than I. He’d needed that nutrition, and I would not see such a young creature die, magic or no.

He turned his back and didn’t reply as he went back to laboriously chewing. Before long, the pup was full, curling up at the werewolf’s foot for a nap. His little paws twitched, and every now and again, the little guy would fart, the smell tickling the werewolf’s nose and making him gag again.

He did an honorable job, but I believe regurgitation was beyond his sensibilities.

He wiped the back of his hand on his mouth, spitting out the rest of the meat. “Never do you speak of this to anyone,” he whispered, his eyes flashing golden.

“Down, Wolfie. It wasn’t so bad. It was… sweet.”

His eyes grew wide as he choked on his own spit. I couldn’t tell whether it was in pain at the thought or amusement. “No one has confused me with sweet .” He snarled the word as if it were some sort of curse.

I studied his face. He had a scar across his eyebrow, which parted the black hair with a white gash. He had a shadow of dark hair along his chin and cheeks.

That powerful jaw was clenched. His lips were parted with a scar along his bottom lip, nearly cutting the lip in half. His nose was nearly pert but crooked, leading up to eyes the color of rich earth with flecks of gold, though they were soulless. Void of thought or intention.

It made me wonder all the more what he was hiding with such a mask. I knew that look well. I saw it in the mirror daily.

A noise drew my gaze to the front of my cave. Finally, some action. My dart gun was on my lips and aimed at the werewolf before he flinched. I blew hard. The tiny needle flew from the end, but he caught it, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger.

My eyes widened.

“Think you can leave me out of the action, hmm?” He flicked the dart back at me, hitting me in the forehead with my own dart .

I nearly rolled my eyes, but refrained, rubbing the spot on my forehead. “More like I didn’t want you stabbing me in the kidney.”

“Your kidneys are safe from my hand, m’lady.”

I stared at him through slitted eyes. “I stabbed and kidnapped you.”

“As if one could forget. Sharing that unicorn was a charming example of why carriages were created for transporting more than one individual. Especially when one is injured.”

My eyes narrowed. “You’re a werewolf.”

He quirked a brow. “You have a fascinating obsession with stating the obvious.”

“And you have a penchant for saying more words than are needed.”

“You wound me. I will never recover.” He clutched a hand to his chest and threw his head back, groaning with anguish.

“You’re a werewolf.”

“Shall I proclaim you the Obvious Olivia, darling?”

“Don't call me darling. You heal quickly,” I replied in a brief explanation and then wondered why I was bothering to explain it to him at all.

He snorted a laugh. I blinked at the sound.

I blew another dart. This one hit his neck. He groaned. “Mother trained me to never be vulnerable.”

I caught him as he fell—kinda. It was more of a mix between not getting smashed by the monster werewolf and not breaking his nose by letting him fall on it. “That seems a lonely way to live.”

His half-lidded eyes showed an undefinable emotion as a sigh crossed his lips. “You have no idea,” he whispered.

“I do,” I replied in a low voice as his breath evened out. I set him on the ground. If the one infiltrating the cave was the one I was searching for, then I would never see this weird werewolf again.

I blinked quickly, shoving my emotions down. This werewolf had no need of my sympathies—he was a killer. No matter how sweet he might have seemed, they were all wild animals driven by rage and instinct. They were not human.

I turned, checking my blades. They released with quiet snicks.

“Watch them?” I asked Ran, nodding to the werewolf and the pup who was crawling up into the crook of the werewolf’s elbow.

Ran snorted, going back to eating. That was as good as a yes.