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Story: Feed Me to the Wolves
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Fenli
I needed to go back to Toke’s village, and I needed to steal Roan’s axe.
I went over it again and again in my mind.
The hinges were silent. If I was slow and careful, I could open the door without a sound.
The axe would be hanging right there on the two nails.
I only had to reach in with one hand and take it off the wall, then close the door and slip away into the night.
He’d be up in the loft, anyway. He wouldn’t hear a thing, and in the morning, he’d be scratching his head when he found his axe was not where he’d left it. And I’d be long gone.
I could do it.
Goose would pose the biggest risk, I thought. But he slept like the dead most of the time, and I wasn’t even sure if Roan would still be putting up with him this long after my departure. He’d likely sent him out on the streets, another dog in the pack.
The thought made my heart squeeze, and I tried to shake it off.
I couldn’t have brought him out with me, not so close to the wolves, and they’d take good care of him whether or not he was in the hut.
Roan would still play with him, and Ess would make sure he was well fed.
I would swing back and get him before I headed off to join the Godless, quiet and unseen.
It would have to be enough.
I made it through the water by the light of the gibbous moon. I didn’t bother trying to hide my canoe in the brush. I needed to get in and out as soon as possible; if I wasn’t back before someone discovered my stolen vessel, it was already too late.
I went quickly, finding my way to the village easily. When I saw the dark forms of the huts, I slowed, edging towards ours.
No— his . I cursed myself.
It was strange to be back after two weeks away. Part of me felt like it had been ages. Another part felt like only yesterday I had been stalking through these streets.
When I reached the door, I took a deep breath. Ease it open, take the axe, ease it shut. That was all I needed to do. Easy. It would be but a moment.
There were no lights coming through the window, and I could hear no sounds from inside. I wrapped my palm around the knob and turned it, slow and steady. No sound. I edged the door forward. Perfectly quiet. But when I reached for the axe, I found it was missing from its home on the wall.
Damn .
Roan had always been so particular about putting his tools exactly where they belonged. Where was it?
I wrestled with myself right there in the doorway, uncertain of what to do next. But I had to have that axe. I couldn’t go back to the forest without it. I needed it for now, and I needed it for when I joined the Godless. I needed to be able to take care of myself .
I sharpened my resolve. I could do this. I had to.
I looked deeper into the space before me.
The moon proved to give just enough light as my eyes adjusted.
I could make out the table, the ladder to the loft, and the cold hearth.
No fire. That struck me as stunningly stupid.
On a cold night like this? I would have had it roaring, and I found myself yearning for a fire right then and there, in a tightly sealed hut instead of the drafty hovel on the island.
Oh, the comforts of home. How had I forgotten?
Focus .
I scanned the floorboards for Goose but didn’t see him. Relief swept through me at having been given at least one blessing tonight. He was likely with the pack, and it would make sneaking around without being caught much easier.
Carefully, I moved inside, leaving the door slightly ajar behind me.
It was a shock to see what a mess the place was.
I thought he’d have cleared my junk out by now, but I could see all my things still in their places, almost like I’d never left.
But it was more than just that. He’d gone and made messes all on his own.
Roan. The same person who hadn’t left out so much as a sock since I’d met him now had boots strewn across the floor, dishes piled on the edge of the table, clothes hanging off chairs, and were those mead bottles?
There were several—all empty—scattered around the place he’d always sat.
And for a moment, I wondered if he’d switched huts.
But no—that was the scarf Rahv had knitted him hanging by the door. This was his hut still, and he was here.
My gaze darted up to the loft. Then I heard it. The sound of deep breathing—coming from my bed .
My heartbeat picked up inside my chest. He was in my bed.
My eyes caught on the lines of his shoulder, highlighted by the moonlight through the window in the back.
I could see the steady rise and fall of his chest, and I knew I was too close.
But there was the axe. It was lying on the floor—unthinkable.
I could not imagine a world in which Roan Faasval would leave a tool like that discarded and underfoot.
I took a quiet step, then another. I focused on the axe. I tried to keep myself calm. But my eyes kept straying back to him. In my bed.
Settle down , I told myself. All that matters is the axe .
Not the mess, uncanny as it was. Not the empty bottles, not him in my bed.
I only needed the axe.
And I might have gotten it, if only I’d kept my attention off him. But I didn’t. From where I stood, my heart so loud I thought it could wake him up, I spied another person in bed beside him. And all the good sense flew out of my head.
I was shock and rage and heartbreak all at once.
Not only had he gotten himself a girl in the brief span of two weeks, but he’d taken her into my bed.
Forget what I’d thought before about this hut being his now and not mine.
My mattress was still on the floor, and he shouldn’t have brought a girl into it.
Gods be damned. How could he?
I should have left, but I was a fool. I had to see, had to know if it was Runa or not, so I crept closer when I should have been creeping away.
His bare arm was wrapped around her, and I bit the inside of my cheek.
I could see his shoulder, his collar bone–gods, was he completely naked?
–but the girl was a dark swirl of hair, and I couldn’t find her face in the shadows .
I need to leave , I told myself . I should get the axe and go because it doesn’t matter who she is .
It was half-hearted. I didn’t even try to pull myself away. I had to know who she was.
But then my eyes adjusted, and the picture became clear. Suddenly, I knew exactly who I was looking at, and my heart all but fell out of my chest. There was no girl in that bed.
It was my dog.
I was taking backward steps, and I didn’t even know why.
It was Goose he was sleeping with, and I had been all wrong.
He was in my bed when he could have been in his.
He was sleeping with my dog when he could have kicked him out with the pack.
The hut was a mess. Roan was a mess. And I was suddenly in a panic.
I needed that bloody axe. I turned back, my pulse in my ears, and my hand hit the side of the chair. Goose woke. One heartbeat later, he was barking.
I bolted, the axe forgotten. I only had it in my mind to flee. I couldn’t let him find me here. I couldn’t face him. Not now, not ever.
But I’d sealed my fate when I’d crept back into that man-boy’s hut, and now I didn’t get the choice.
He caught me. My hand was on the knob when he snagged me by the shoulder and jerked me from my escape.
“Who the hell,” he started, but he never finished his words. With a strength I could never possess, he spun me around and shoved me back into the door. It slammed shut, my back smarting at the impact, and I gasped.
His face was one of hard lines, anger clouding his features.
Then his eyes found mine. And it was like a crack ran up the whole of him, something else entirely coming out of the depths.
His brow softened, slacked, and his lips pulled apart.
His fingers unclamped from my shoulders and his posture sagged.
“Don’t you dare,” I said, thinking he would hand me over to Baer for reckoning. “Don’t call for anyone.”
But he didn’t say a word. His eyes were as wide as oceans, and I wondered if he was even hearing me.
The bruise was gone from his cheek, but I could still make out where Axl had broken the skin.
He was close. I shifted, uneasy on my feet.
He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and I could see that as plain as day now.
I prayed to the gods that he was wearing pants.
"Am I dreaming?"
He searched my face for an answer.
“Roan, just let me—”
“You’re alive. I thought you were dead.”
“Sorry to disappoint—” but then his fingers were in my hair. I couldn’t speak, not while he was so close, while his touch ran over my skin. All I could do was feel, and I felt it all.
The shiver that ran down the whole of me.
The heat in my cheeks.
The prickling pleasure.
And the flame that came to life and raged inside me. I thought it might burn me to the ground; I found I hardly cared.
“Roan,” I whispered, and I didn’t know why. I didn’t know what I was thinking. I wasn’t thinking. I was just heat and want. I reached out, bringing one shaky hand to his chest.
He shuddered, the reaction to my touch wracking his whole body. Then his fingers curled, pressing into my skin with more need than before, and his arms tightened around me, bringing me closer still .
It was madness, and I was mad with it. Hell if I knew what we were doing.
I flattened the palm of my other hand on his stomach, and he hesitated.
One hand on his chest, the other on his abdomen.
His eyes sharpened, a question there. He wanted to know if I was holding the space between us.
He wouldn’t breach it if I didn’t want him to.
But I felt unable to communicate a thing, so muddled was my mind.
He waited, watching me, his chest heaving for breath under my hand, his heart racing mine.
My own desire shook me from my state. I slid my hand around his back, pressed my body to his, and got lost in his arms as he wrapped them around me, folding me into him.
In that place, my lips found his. Soft. Gods, his lips were soft.
He was soft and slow and so gods-damned gentle that it woke the beast in me.
Forget my running with the wolves.
This kiss—it was the wildest thing I’d ever done.
I pressed harder into him. Everything he did with care and quiet, I did back with fervor and fury.
I kissed his lips again and again, and he let me.
I pushed back, my body flush against his, and he conceded a step.
I drug my fingers down his back. I growled into his mouth. And I felt his smile against my lips.
It shocked the sense into me. I gasped, pulling away just enough to find his eyes. I’d never seen a man look hungrier.
“I was a mess,” he said. “I was a mess with worry. Don’t you ever do that to me again, Fenli Wyn Faasval. I thought you were dead.”
“I…I left a,” but the words weren’t coming. I straightened, pulling my chest away from his though he still clung to my arms and my hands were still over his ribs. He took the opportunity to spin us around, placing himself in front of the door. I shook my head. “I left a note. ”
He huffed a laugh.
“Yeah, I got your note. Ess and I went north to make sure you’d gotten to the North Clan safely, but you weren’t there.”
I pulled my hands away.
“You and Ess went…” I trailed off. “Why would you do that?”
He frowned at me. “You had us worried sick. We were going to drag you home. Where have you been?”
I was taking backward steps without a thought. Just that old familiar warning in my head, telling me to flee. Roan’s hand reached out to snag my elbow just as my heels hit the heap of rugs, tripping me.
I got my feet under me and shook him off.
“Shit,” I said, turning away.
What the hell was I doing?
“Fen, slow down.”
“No, I have to go.” I scanned for the axe. Back by the bed. I headed for it, Goose trotting happily beside me.
“Go where?” He sounded upset.
“Just…just go. It doesn’t matter.” I bent down, wrapping my fingers around the worn, wooden handle. “I just came for this. You can get-get another, right?”
He gawked at me.
“Okay.” I tried to shuffle past him. “D-don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
But he stepped into my path, the tension in his jaw catching my focus.
“Tell me why you didn’t join the North Clan.”
“The North Clan?”
“The Godless. Why didn’t you go there?”
What could I say ?
“I… I’m going to. I just haven’t yet. I wanted to be,” my words jammed up, and I paused, taking several breaths, “alone for a little while.”
He raised his voice. “Alone in the wilderness?”
“I-I found another group. For the time being.”
“That’s a lie.”
Well, that brought out the ire in me. I leveled him with a look and said, “It’s not a lie. And to hell with you, anyway. I can—can do what I want.”
He let out a sharp breath of air and raked his fingers through his rumpled hair.
“I’m not trying to control you, Fen. I just—”
He took a step toward me and tried to put his hand on my arm, his movements slow. I let him. When he saw I would not pull away, he ran his palm up and down.
“Fen.”
I met his stare.
“I’m not alone,” I said. “You don’t have to worry. Please. Just let me go.”
Several long moments passed, his eyes running over my face betraying all his troubled thoughts. Finally, he set his mouth into a grim line. He pulled his hand away and stepped aside.
“Okay,” he said. “You’re right, you can do what you want. I’ll let you go.”
Table of Contents
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- Page 31 (Reading here)
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