Page 24 of The Heartless Archer

Even though his side was burning, he searched his cloak for the small satchel, pulling out a few strips of dried beef.

“I know this is nothing compared to what you did for me—”

Rather than letting him finish talking, the wolf already munched on the meat.

Kai released a small chuckle that turned into a wheeze. The wolf glanced at him in concern. Kai watched the redhead girl throw a satchel down, the woman who saved him catching it expertly.

“I’m back when the sun is up, promise,” she called to the girl and made her way over to him.

He tried to sit up straighter, to portray a more intimidating stance but who was he trying to fool? He was currently bleeding to death and she knew it.

“Hi,” his voice broke slightly at the end as she reached him.

She raised a brow at the meat the wolf was munching on.

“That’s how easy you’re to win over? Do you accept meat from every stranger?” She raised a brow expertly.

The wolf glared at her.

“What’s his name?”

“How should I know?” She grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet. He hissed as more blood oozed from his wound.

“Isn’t he your wolf?”

“He doesn’t belong to anyone,” she muttered darkly and started into the forest.

He followed her, limping slightly to keep his weight off his bleeding side.

“Is she always like that?” He looked at the wolf, now trailing beside him, grunting agreeingly. As far as a wolf could grunt.

“Hmm, let’s see, what would fit you?”

“Do not name the wolf,” she called from the front. He ignored her.

“How about Ralff?”

The wolf growled unhappily. He thought so.

“I know that one was bad. Oskar?”

“I dare you, don’t name it,” she growled, and Kai couldn’t help himself from smiling, even though he felt like death on two feet. “Why not?”

She turned around, her hair whirling in the night air. Kai stumbled at the sight.

“Because you are going to get attached and it is going to doom you.” Something shined in the black of her eyes, a faraway memory of something she had once lost.

“He saved my life. He deserves a name.” They stared each other down, no one willing to let it go.

“For an injured man, you seem to be able to talk very much.”

“I’m used to worse.”

She scoffed and turned through the thicket. Her form disappeared and he followed quickly before whispering, “How about Spike?”

The wolf opened his mouth in what seemed to be an attempted smile, canines glinting in the moonlight.

“Spike it is.”

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