Page 41 of Recipe for a Curse

“Instead you’ll just freeze to death, if you don’t die of starvation from burning hot dogs,” I snarked at myself. Two more hot dogs and I think I had it down. They were kind of plain on their own. “Should have brought uncooked bacon, wrapped them up and cooked them that way.” I was trying to save all the other supplies for Rio.

When I checked my phone it was late, almost nine, and I had no service, so even if Zach had texted me, I wouldn’t get it until I was back in range. Ana would tell him where I went, and that was okay. If something happened to me, he’d know where to look.

The cold really began to drop. The snow around seemed to crystallize with that sort of glass breaking sound. If not for the crackling of the fire, I’d have been in complete silence simply listening to the cold devour everything.

I sat on a section of cut logs, curled in on myself, burrowed in the warmth of my coat, gloves, hat, and a borrowed pair of snow pants. At first it seemed okay. The fire kept me warm, and without the wind, the cold was manageable. But the chill began to seep through as exhaustion killed my adrenaline. I admit I had sort of hoped Rio had been close and would randomly pop up right away. I’d convince him to come back to the manor with me and all would be well. Though the tent and mass of supplies I’d brought meant it seemed more realistic that he would remain here. This was his land, his home, and he felt safe here. Even without a solid four walls.

How long should I stay? Was he out there maybe watching? Worried that if he came back before I left that he’d be convinced to return to the manor? I thought about heading back to the car. Didn’t know if it would even make it back through the snowy roads. I had thought I’d get stuck several times on the slow trek up even with the fancy new tires.

But I sat in the dark, cooking up hot dogs and putting them on a plate nibbling one, but cooking the rest just in case. Rio had to be hungry. Maybe the smell would draw him in? All I could do was hope, even while sleepiness tugged at me and I wished for a place on my couch, curled up in blankets and sipping mulled cider.

I didn’t realize I dozed until a wicked growl woke me. I jolted upward, half falling off my log seat and scrambling to keep from landing in the fire. A wolf stood on the other side of the fire, muzzle buried in the plate of cooked hot dogs, slurping, growling and occasionally glancing up at me like it expected me to take them away.

I worked really hard not to move or scream, though my lungs felt tight with the terror in my chest. The animal was huge, light gray in color, white in front with an ombre gray effect rolling over his coat, and eerily familiar clear blue eyes. The light of the fire danced across its coat, outlining the muscular form and long legs. Were wolves normally that large? I tried to recall the few times I’d seen them in zoos in my life, but they’d always been farther away, so it was hard to tell.

What was the mantra Steve Irwin and all those nature buffs used to say? The animal was more scared of us than we were of them? I wasn’t sure I believed that right then with the size of the wolf’s teeth.

The wolf finished the hot dogs and licked the plate before looking up and staring at me. My breath caught, afraid for a minute it was going to decide I was its next meal. But it turned toward the tent, nosing into it where all the food was stored. I guess it had been good I’d left the door mostly unzipped so it hadn’t been necessary for it to tear through the fabric. The claws of the wolf were huge, dragging out bags and tearing into loaves of bread, even finding the sticky buns, which it devoured. I wasn’t sure that was good for a wolf, but wasn’t about to try to lecture it on wellness issues.

In fact, I sat frozen, worried that it was going through all the food I’d brought for Rio, but also a bit resigned. What did a wolf eat out here all alone in a blizzard? Were any rabbits or other prey animals out in the snow? Somehow, I felt like the pickings were pretty scarce right now. It couldn’t eat everything, could it?

Since the wolf was rummaging around the tent, I turned to the bag I’d set beside me and dug out a moon cake. Had a dozen with me, since other than Sean, I was pretty much the only on-site resident of the manor who ate them. I nibbled at it, keeping a wary eye on the wolf. He poked his head out of the tent twice to glance at me, before making his way back in to dig through more food.

He was there so long and chewing things open that the sound almost became relaxing. I dozed a bit where I sat, half a moon cake in my mitten-covered hand. Should I have been more conflicted? Run perhaps? Survival class said running was a good idea only in some instances. Stillness or not showing fear better in others. Sometimes even getting big, screaming, and waving arms around could frighten something off. I couldn’t really recall a direct face-to-face with a wolf and which scenario that warranted. But I didn’t feel like I needed to run. The wolf was hungry. Maybe he’d go away on his own when he was full. There was plenty of food in that tent to fill him up. I hoped there would be enough left for Rio.

I was startled to find the moon cake pulled out of my hand. The wolf was right there. The fact that it hadn’t taken my hand off to get the cake had to be a miracle. It swallowed and slurped, licking its lips as the moon cake vanished. I stared, then slowly reached back for my pack and the remaining stash of cakes. It didn’t move. No lunging or any of the thousand other terrifying ideas that went through my head. I took out the container of cakes and opened it, beginning by tossing the first cake to the wolf. It caught it, barely did more than swallow it whole. Eventually I fed it the cakes, one by one until they were gone. It got closer and closer, until it sat beside me, using me as a sort of stopping point, and curling up near my legs.

Maybe it just looked like a wolf. Wolves weren’t normally so tame, right? Maybe Rio had fed it regularly, which meant it had probably had a few days of being absolutely starving. I dug through my pack for more food options. I had a handful of protein bars and granola bars. Things that I normally didn’t eat because they were full of junk, but I unwrapped them and fed them to the wolf. All while it stared at me with those eerie eyes. Eyes like Rio’s, I realized. So clear and blue, like pools of icy frozen water. It was odd, yet I still didn’t feel uneasy.

The wolf settled down stretching out its paws toward the fire, pressed to my side. I hoped it had enough food. But I carefully reached over to touch his head. He didn’t move. No snapping, biting, or snarling. He just glanced my way, a questioning sort of look like I’d seen on one of Brand’s huskies. I slowly began to pet him, running my mitten slowly over his head and scratching his ears a bit.

Rio must have taken care of this animal. Maybe that’s why his blankets had been covered in hair, and yet he hadn’t really claimed to own a dog. Who owned a wolf? I was mystified really. In what sort of dream world did I, a tiny little queen with a love for cooking, end up sitting in the dark cold after a blizzard petting a wolf?

“It’s a bit like a fantasy novel,” I whispered, a bit afraid the sound of my voice would startle the wolf. But he didn’t move. “Maybe this is the beginning of some quest to save the world?”

The wolf seemed to snort.

“Yeah, I’m not really the save the world type, right? But I make a mean sticky bun.”

He whined a little.

“I think you ate them all,” I said. “I can make more, but I have to go home to do that.”

He didn’t move as I continued to pet him. The fire was dying a bit, chill easing into my bones and making me shiver. The wolf stood suddenly and I almost leapt out of my skin, as he turned and took a hold of my sleeve with the tips of his jaw. He tugged instead of biting. He tugged me toward the wood pile.

“Yeah, I’m on it. Fire is good.” I added another log and poked at the fire a little until it blazed again. That was better. The wolf sat down beside me, acting as a bit of a break even while the wind picked up again and I shivered. “A windbreak would be nice.” I glanced at the tent and wondered if I could lie down and take a nap. I was so tired. “But I’m not sure if that’s safe? What if you eat me while I sleep?”

The wolf seemed to huff and half drape itself across my lap, instilling a pulsing bit of warmth. Was it his fur that made him so warm? I sighed and leaned into him. “Thanks. Don’t eat me, okay? I promise I’ll make you more sticky buns.” I closed my eyes, thinking I really needed to stay awake, but that I was so tired I simply wanted to rest them for a bit.