Page 94 of Her Wolf

A door creaked.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Then softer sounds — boots on a carpet, maybe. Snuffling noises.

A cold nose touched the back of her hand where it dangled down. A tongue licked her fingers. Warm. Wet. It began nibbling, not piercing her flesh, but as if searching for something.

“No.” The voice echoed dully in her head.

That warm muzzle with its cold nose disappeared.

A firm surface under her. Her support disappeared, and she realized she was alone. Her eyes had closed, but she forced them open to a sliver.

Blurry walls and a circle of yellow light came into view. She let her head roll to the side when a cold nose pressed to her arm.

A dog, pale fur and dark eyes, watched her with the intensity only dogs could muster. It snuffled against her arm, leaving a trail of cool moisture over her skin as it worked its way down to her hand. There, it began licking her again.

It was licking blood from her skin.

Blood she’d gotten on herself when she’d shimmied her hands out from under her in the trunk. Long licks warmed the back of her wrist, stinging where the ropes had cut into her flesh.

There was a buzz in the air. Jerky, sporadic. Dark spots zipped across her vision as little nibbles worked their way over the back of her hand. The dog’s tongue tickled the sensitive web of skin between her fingers.

More nibbles to her knuckles…and then a tentative bite to one finger.

It didn’t hurt, not like it should have, but Cora flinched her hand and slowly drew it away.

“No,” she tried, but it came out in a garbled moan.

The dog followed her hand. Licked, licked, bit.

“No!” This time, she heard the panicked word hanging in the air, all proper like. She jerked away her hand, and for a second something snagged around her wrist.

A rope.

Was she still bound?

But no—it was something thinner. Something that gave with a small snap a second later.

The dog drew back, dark eyes watching her over the edge of the bed.

Waiting…just waiting for her to fall asleep.

Cora forced her eyes open as far as they would go. More light poured over her retinas, turning a once-blurry room into full focus. It had a rustic feel to it; stone walls and colorful wall hangings. But minimalistic, austere almost.

She turned her head, staring at the ceiling. The light didn’t come from there—it came from the right. So she let her head roll to the other side.

The dog came back to lick her arm, but her body was too heavy for her to move it away.

Cora blinked. Blinked again.

Dios mio, she didn’t need hallucinations on top of everything else right now.

But no matter how much she blinked, the bloated face in front of her didn’t waver.

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