Page 56 of The Sirin Sisterhood (The Sons of Echidna #2)

Both Lucy and Freya dared not to breathe, assessing the situation.

A dragon versus a rabbit. A simple equation with a definite answer.

Freya obviously thought so because she lunged for it as Lucy barely managed to free her hand.

But the dragon’s lurch broke the hare’s freeze; it made a desperate bid for freedom, the dark blur of fluff bolting into the tall grass and straight into the trees.

The forest offered sanctuary; tall evergreens crowded protectively around the entrance, holding Freya back from chasing their prey.

The massive dragon slammed against the trunks, knocking two of them down, but the fallen wood only made it more difficult to get further. They were losing time, and with each passing second, the hare was getting further away, taking their names with it.

Lucy ran into the forest. She had no choice; Freya was too big, and the hare was seeking its freedom in the shadowy overgrowth. Lucy saw the twitching shrubs in the distance, her mind racing, and she prayed for a solution.

There was no time to go back for traps or guns.

She could try the life strings, but she knew that, just like the duck, her caress would spook the hare.

Trees, light, shadows—nothing offered the answer she desperately needed.

She madly wondered if she could draw upon her own ancient ancestors and chase the prey until it exhausted itself, but her hunting and foraging forefathers hadn’t neglected cardio like Lucy.

No matter how hard she tried, she would fall victim first with a stitch in her side from running.

She stopped to catch her breath, peering helplessly into the shadows, hoping they might still hold the answer.

No answers. But maybe the shadows held something else for her.

Eyes widening in shock, her mind raced to the evening with Aris on his ship. She remembered the heart of his body and his scent when he’d leaned close to her, how the wooden boards felt under her feet, and the flutter in the pit of her stomach when his breath had caressed the skin on her neck.

What she really needed to remember was the damn whistle he’d taught her.

Come on. Focus.

Her mind unhelpfully offered his voice instead. Deep and harsh, making her skin prickle with goosebumps.

Seriously? Pull yourself together and focus!

But Lucy’s memory of his voice had guided her to what she needed. “Like this,”he’d said, demonstrating the whistle.

Lucy pressed her lips together and blew. She only managed to produce a soft whuff that sounded more like an exhale.

She licked her lips, dampening the dry skin, her mind honing in on the intent of the summons.

Time to hunt.

The long, piercing note stirred the shadows.

A pair of hounds emerged from the dark, their glowing eyes focused on Lucy.

She didn’t recognize those two particular dogs, but they were memorable.

Their fur was carefully cropped in an intricate style of back-combed puffs against shaved sections that made them look more like fancy poodles than guardians of the underworld.

Both wore collars, one in red leather and the other in green with golden spikes.

They cocked their heads and sniffed the air.

Either Aris’ scent still lingered on her, or hellhounds weren’t terrifying atall,because their plumed tails wagged furiously, their glowing tongues rolling out of open jaws.

“Good. Um. Look, I know my command vocabulary is limited. I probably should’ve learned more.”She smiled at them, kneeling and pointing to the now motionless undergrowth. “But I need you to fetch.”

Fetch .

She must have stumbled over their favorite word. Both dogs spun in circles, absolutely delirious with excitement.

Taking it as a good sign, Lucy picked up a branch from the forest floor and waved it in front of the eager hellhounds.

All she had to do was throw it where she had last seen the hare. She aimed the stick at the bushes and flung it.

For once, the universe decided to cut her some slack. It landed exactly where she needed it to, and the hare bolted out, startled by the sudden noise.

The hounds didn’t care about the stick anymore.

Their instincts kicked in fast and hard as they sprung after the terrified animal, barking and howling, but not for long.

The hare had met its match. Back home, Klein would toss chicken carcasses to the dogs outside when they needed a little enrichment, and they would be ripped to shreds in seconds.

She assumed that was how the hare had ended up.

Lucy turned away, not wanting to see the animal’s demise.

It wasn’t the hare’s fault that it had run off with her name.

The hounds trotted back moments later, nudging her with their snouts, empty-handed. Empty pawed?

“Where is it?”She asked in a panic. Did you lose it?”

One was panting and looking at Lucy like it was expecting a reward. The other had something in it’s mouth—something small, definitely not a rabbit.

“Drop it.”Lucy pointed to the ground.

The hound whined but didn’t obey.

Lucy squinted her eyes at the hellhound. She knew exactly how to handle the stubborn animal.

“Come here, good baby!”She whirled to coo to the one panting happily, grabbing him and pulling him close, giving him a brisk all-over rub. “Good boy! Wow, such a good boy! Such a clever, good boy!”

The dog melted in her arms, collapsing onto his back and wiggling in the dirt as she scratched his belly, completely blissed out. Lucy grinned at the hound in the red collar as she smothered the pampered animal beneath her with love.

Too easy. The jealous bitch dropped something white and round from her mouth as she nudged her sibling away to get attention, too, desperately grumbling and huffing, yawning to show her mouth was empty and she was a good dog, too.

Lucy rewarded them both, praising the hounds, pressing kisses to their warm snouts, and laughing as they nudged against her.

“Thank you. I mean it. I would’ve been screwed without you.”She picked up the white object they’d retrieved and examined it.

It was an egg. There was no blood or fur over it, which was a mercy.

She was sick of blood and gore. It was warm, though that was hardly a surprise after being in the mouth of a hellhound; she’d be surprised if it wasn’t hardboiled.

She raised the egg to the light, examining the brittle shell.

It didn’t feel any different from a normal egg she’d make breakfast with. Should she break it?

No. Better to wait for Freya and make the decision together.

She reluctantly dismissed the hellhounds with a whistle and followed the path of crushed wildflowers back to the clearing.

She didn’t realize how far she’d run. It took her a solid ten minutes to get back, fatigue well and truly kicking her ass by the time she saw the light between the dense trunks.

The clearing looked surprisingly empty without the massive dragon filling it.

Freya had turned back while Lucy was gone and was being cared for by her sisters.

Lai and Klein furiously argued with Agata as she draped a shawl over Freya’s shoulders, too far away for Lucy to hear what they were saying, but everyone fell silent as she emerged from the forest. She didn’t keep them waiting, showing the egg resting on her open palm.

“You did it?”Freya pushed Sabira and Agata away, clutching the shawl around her chest to cover her nudity. “You got it!”

“I think I did. This is it, right?”Lucy gave her the egg, and Freya closed her palm around it, cracking the thin shell. When she uncurled her fingers, inside the mess of broken yolk, shining brightly in her grip, was a needle.