Page 95 of Her Wolf

What was Angel doing here?

Had he been sent to mock her, to remind her of what an idiot she was? She was more than aware—the universe could piss off now and stop being such a fucking bully.

A fly settled on the corpse beside her—on Angel’s temple.

But it wasn’t Angel. This boy was younger, his face plumper. Or was that just because of the level of decomposition?

Bile burnt the back of Cora’s throat, and she hurriedly turned her head back to face the dog. It looked up at her without slowing the warm licks it worked over her upper arm.

“Good boy,” she said with a thick tongue.

With monumental effort, she propped herself up on one elbow.

There were two dogs: the white-furred one licking her arm, and another a few feet away. The other lay curled up on a small rug, watching her with dull, impassive eyes. Both dogs had scruffy fur, a hollowness in their eyes, and white rime around their noses.

“Good boy.” Her voice made the white dog’s tail whisk happily, and briefly stayed its intense licking.

Cora brought herself into a sit. Flies buzzed angrily around her, as if pissed that she’d disturbed them.

The white dog stepped back, and its collar jangled softly. Cora stretched out a hand. She probably shouldn’t try and touch a strange dog, but any trace of fear had dissolved right alongside pain. She felt around the dog’s neck until the small badge bumped against her finger.

“Lady,” she read with difficulty, having to blink and force her eyes to focus on the small writing. “Good girl, Lady.”

Hearing its name, the dog promptly sat.

Whisk, whiskwent its tail against the bare wooden floors.

“Lady,” Cora said, and attempted to stand.

Surprisingly, she managed on the first go. Then, for some inexplicable reason, she had the feeling that the corpse on the bed had also sat up. Had also swung its legs over the side of the bed. Was also coming to a stand, leaning to one side.

Cora stumbled forward a step, and would have fallen if she hadn’t made a mad grab and found the dog’s shoulder.

“Good girl,” Cora mumbled, squeezing her eyes shut as the world tilted for a moment. “You’re a strong doggie,” she said, and her voice broke for a moment. “So strong.”

The dog’s muscles moved under her fingers as she hobbled for a rectangle of dark light that had to be the room’s exit.

Why was it so quiet?

Where was the person who’d brought her here, the dogs’s master?

She heard footsteps behind her. Soft, bare feet.

Swallowing hard, Cora forced herself to go faster. She pushed away from the dog and found her balance, but Lady stuck to her side, giving her the odd lick as if encouraging her.

Hey, look at you go! Just a few more steps. You can do it, human!

The overwhelming smell was still burning wood—like a forest fire—but as she made her way down an endless passage, garlic and onion gradually replaced it.

A beacon of light caught her eye, and Cora turned to it. A fireplace with a single, empty armchair. She stepped forward, but Lady blocked her way with an enthusiastic, sharp-toothed grin and a swishing tail.

No, not that way. This way. Toward the food. Aren’t you hungry, human? I’m hungry.

And, true enough, the dog licked at Cora’s bloody hand again, as if to reinforce the fact. The dog’s pronounced ribs and jutting hip bones suggested that Lady could eat a horse.

Possibly, while it was still conscious.

With Lady guiding her, Cora eventually made it into the dining room. A long wooden table, piled with dirty dishes, filled most of the room. She sat in the first available seat, glad at the respite. Walking was too difficult right now.

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