Page 51 of Teeth To Rip & Tear

If he wanted to close the Gate between the Aos Sí and the Human Realities, he couldask, but I wasn’t sure if my magic was powerful enough to do something like that. Not with my current lack of knowledge and the iron poisoning I felt spreading from my injured hands like shards of glass through my blood.

Rage was a metallic patina on my tongue. Anger at the Huntsman, but mainly at myself.

Stupid.

Stupid.

Stupid.

The clang of the dungeon door woke me, the sound echoing down the line of cells—followed by hurried footsteps, too light to belong to the Huntsman.

A short, sharp gasp drew my attention to the bars. A young girl, barely past puberty, stood outside the cell, clutching a bowl of stew. Her wide eyes flashed to Kaleb and then back to me.

“I was told to bring your supper.” The girl held out the bowl.

I groaned as I shifted my weight. My blistered hand shook as I reached through the bars, avoiding the rusted iron. The girl studied my injured hands, wincing with empathy.

“You must not be a full wolf.” She said with sympathy. “Only the Sídhe are that sensitive to iron.”

I glanced over to the wolf in the corner. “Do you have anything for him?”

“You’ll have to share, I’m afraid.” She told me. “If you give the Huntsman what he wants, he’ll let you go. He doesn’t like keeping people in the dungeons.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t,” I muttered, glancing down at the watery broth in the bowl. Though I’d not eaten since the previous day, I wasn’t sure I could stomach a single bite.

“My name is Kacia.” The girl tipped her head. “I help the Huntsman with various errands. If you need new clothing or anything else, I’m your girl.”

“Do a lot of wolves live here then?” I wondered, the warmth of the bowl seeping into my injured hands.

Kacia nodded enthusiastically. “Once the Huntsman trusts you, he’ll station you somewhere in the Human Realities. The wolves only come to the castle during Samhain. MostDurrachprefer the taste of human flesh, so they prefer to hunt on the other side of the Gate.”

“If you’re a wolf, why aren’t you in wolf form?” I interrupted. “I thought all wolves were in wolf form during Samhain?”

Kacia shrugged. “The Huntsman controls our ability to shift for these seven days. Its part of the bargain. I can’t make food with paws.”

I gave her a tight-lipped smile but said nothing.

Kacia exhaled a breath, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “I shouldn’t tell you this.”

“Okay?” I eyed her suspiciously.

Kacia cleared her throat and looked over her shoulder. “You should touch Kaleb. Get closer to him. Pet his fur. It might help with your hands. If you don’t do something, the iron will kill you. The Huntsman left Kaleb in your cell because he didn’t want you to die. He’s just trying to teach you a lesson.”

“How would—” I mashed my lips together, stopping the question before it finished forming. I watched the young wolf race away from my cell like her ass was on fire.

Kaleb didn’t move when I sat beside him, placing my hand between his shoulders and wincing at the coarse fur on my raw flash. I placed the watery broth in front of his nose.

It didn’t take long before the pain faded to a dull ache, but I didn’t dare look at my hands.

I supposed there were benefits to being around other wolves. That was why the wild fae formed packs, after all. Maybe wolves could heal each other through touch.

Kaleb, the wolf, waited until the steam faded from the bowl before he licked the watery broth, watching me as if to ask for permission.

A stab of loneliness, so intense it stole my breath, rushed through me.

“Kaleb, can you hear me?” I whispered.

The wolf blinked up at me, his expression unchanging.

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