Page 118 of Mated to the Wolves

I can taste the tangy citrus energy on my tongue. Savage power gathers like an imminent storm. I hope when it breaks, we’re on the right side of the damage.

We passed the familiar spaces some time ago. This land is forgotten, untouched, and wild. There are no signs of our people. The tall trees and overgrown moss carpets are hauntingly beautiful.

My eyesight has improved since I accepted my position as a child of Fenrir and keeper. The earthy scent of fresh soil and blooming wildflowers tantalizes my nose.

Is this what I missed when my senses were dulled? I’m fully alive for the first time and our grim task doesn’t take away the joy that bubbles up inside my chest.

Easily, I keep up with the men. There’s no more slow-poke Ylva hindering our pace. Kirk Yips. I feel his joy and pride at the happiness I’m feeling through our bond. I return the call. Cadoc howls.

Bo and Fell answer. We join in. For a moment, I feel united, like a proper clan. We slow to a trot as a ramshackle wooden structure appears through the trees.

The old, worn wood and the crude windows are covered in layers of filth. Did we get the direction correct?

I sniff. Wait. I recognize that scent. It’s the man from the restaurant. We shift. Four legs become two. Muscles shift, and rearrange as our point of view changes to that of a creature on two legs. Cadoc takes the lead.

“Bo, come with me to scout the surrounding area.” Cadoc points at us. “You two stay here and keep an eye out.”

Nodding I grip the knife sheath clipped to the utility belt. Cadoc and Bo circle around to the back of the dwelling. I remain still as we all scan the darkness.

They return. “It smells clear,” Cadoc says.

Bo wrinkles his nose. “And it looks like a filthy hovel from where I’m standing. If we’re not careful we’ll catch the plague.”

Really? I turn to Bo. “You are an absolute snob, your highness. We’re in the middle of nowhere. What did you expect the place to look like?”

“Not this.” Bo’s voice drips with disdain.

“Look.” I point the glowing triangle. The closer we get the brighter it becomes. The front door swings open. The paper bursts into flames in Bo’s hand.

“Shit.” he releases the slip too slow, and shoves the singed fingertips into his mouth.

“That was an elaborate welcome.” Cadoc peers into the darkened space.

We step across the threshold and a strange burnt yellow glow begins to form in the small space. Fenrir’s blessing covers the inside of the shanty.

Cautious, Cadoc steps inside. He nears a lantern with pieces of flint beside it.

“He was incredibly committed to living off the grid,” Bo he looks around. His face is twisted in disgust.

“Or he was that old.” Fell lifts a copper kidney-shaped canteen.

“Why would he not have been a part of the pack?” Kirk asks.

“I don’t know,” A spark catches onto the wick. Light illuminates the small space.

Beautiful depictions of wolves on handmade papyrus in chalk and ink hang on the walls. A cast iron cauldron hangs in a corner of the fireplace.

“He’s been living here off the land a long time,” Fell observes.

A twinge of pain hits me. I understand what it is to be alone in the world.

“And not always alone.” Kirk nods his head at a large drawing of a woman with kind eyes.

“What do you think happened to her?” Impressed, I study the crisp lines, and detailed shading.

“Old age? Maybe a run-in with a bear out here?”

Fell gives possible answers.

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