Page 23 of The Heartless Archer

She got up, dusting her trousers off for the second time that night, before stalking over to the stranger’s body.

When she was close enough, she slowly lifted her foot and nudged his side. No reaction.

“Well, he is dead.” She went to turn, just to stare at the growling wolf.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. I thought you didn’t like him.”

The wolf didn’t budge.

Noora scoffed before getting to her knees. She lifted a finger right under his nose, her skin brushing over his delicate cupid bow.

Soft puffs of air met her skin; he was still alive.

Her eyes wandered over the soft features of his face for a moment.

She sighed.

“This is growing on your responsibility.”

Chapter 11

Kai

A wet sensation slowly pulled him out from down under and his aching body treated him forward into a sitting position.

His chest heaved as he looked around in the dark, trying to decipher where he was.

Just to look right into the mouth of sharp teeth.

He went to grab his sword at the side of his bed, just to realise there was nothing but air.

Because he was not at home.

The wolf tilted his head at him, his one eye blinking as he seemed to smile at his panic.

“It’s you,” Kai whispered, looking around to see that they were at the edge of a smaller forest, the only thing in sight was a brick building surrounded by iron gates turned rusty by the rain.

The wolf let out a concerned whine, pushing his snout against his neck.

On instinct, Kai started to pat his head before he noticed the stinging sensation in his left side. He was hurt and he passed out, he remembered. But where was—his head flew to someone whistling.

There.

At the side of the brick building she stood. Her white hair flew in the dark like it was strung out of moonlight.

He froze when he saw her for the first time. When she drew the string of her bow and shot the hawk precisely in the head in the forest.

He couldn’t believe his eyes. He thought he found her. But on closer inspection, Kai knew it was not her. Her eyes were black like the fur of the bear and not the colour of ice.

As the whistle brushed past her lips, a blur of red fire appeared at the window, high up in the building. It was a small girl, her hair the colour of flames, her skin glimmering bronze. The building looked old, it was made out of rust-coloured bricks. Ivy climbed up the loose rain pipes. The lower windows were barred with iron and he was creepily reminded of a dungeon, where prisoners were held.

The two girls whispered something to each other, as Kai continued to absently pat the wolf’s fur.

“She saved me.”

The wolf released what sounded like a scoff.

Kai turned to look at him. “You both did.”

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