Page 107 of Kingdoms of Night

She pressed the door open, wincing as it squeaked and complained. Inside, though, the hut proved even more of a mystery.

The condition was better, the smell more dull and damp than musty mold and old wood. Moss grew on the north-facing wall. Some parts of the hut actually looked good, the paint crisp and unfaded, as if they had been preserved somehow. Maybe through magic.

What furniture was present looked mostly preserved, at least much of it. The large walnut end table with a porcelain basin looked new. And though the river-stone fireplace had some scuffs and scrapes, the hearth was swept, the grate stacked with clean dry wood, and the poker hung neatly from a hook with a red ribbon.

Two chairs up against the wall had nearly rotted into pieces, but a large four-poster bed contrasted sharply in acceptable condition, with a clean white mattress that sagged a bit in the middle. Far better than the floor, which was covered in dead leaves.

So what was this place?

Though it looked like it should be larger on the outside, it appeared to be only one room.

A small bronze plaque was fastened to the wall above the table. It read, “Rest for weary travelers. Do no harm in this place and no harm shall come to you.”

Fair enough.

This looked safe enough. Safer than what they’d had before. Buttercup looked up at her, mouth hanging open in a wolfy smile.

“Thank you for bringing me here.” She crouched down to Buttercup’s eye level. “Let’s get Hawthorn and Feron here. We’ll get some of the food from the table too, hole up in this hut, and leave in the morning.”

* * *

FERON

Rapid footsteps drew closer. Someone was running. His head thundered, and his limbs ached. Dozens of cuts and scrapes burned along his body as they healed.

A hand pressed against his cheek, warm and gentle. Soft.

He blinked his eyes open to the dark of night, dotted by a sea of unfamiliar stars. Wisps of dark hair escaping her braids, Idalno leaned over him and held a burning stick illuminating the dimness. Her eyes fixed intently on him, the corner of her mouth curling up. He breathed her in; she smelled more of sweat and smoke than plums now.

“The wolves found a place for us to spend the night.” She brushed hair from his eyes. “It’s not far. Safer than here. Can you walk?”

She hadn’t run away.

She could have. The spriggan would’ve ended him fairly quickly, and she probably would’ve been freed from the curse loop.

He drew in a deep breath through his nose, his chest expanding. Back with the wyrm, she’d helped when she hadn’t needed to. He’d had that under control. But it had been safer for her to stay and assist then. Here, however...

“Can you walk, Feron? ”

He nodded blearily.

“Yes.” He started to push up onto his elbows. Every muscle ached and screamed. His eyes burned. All he wanted was to slip from consciousness, disappear to the end of everything, and wake up only when everything didn’t hurt.

She took ahold of his arm and pulled. “I’ll help you as much as I can, but I don’t think I can move you on my own.”

Although he wanted to tell her not to strain herself—he outweighed her by a fair bit—he really wasn’t sure he could stand on his own, much less walk. Wincing, he accepted her help and staggered to his feet.

Everything swayed. The trees cast black silhouettes against a dizzying, shimmery dark sky, tilting over the shining obsidian surface of the lake, swirling end over end across his field of vision. At the heart of it all, the wild tumble of color and gleam enshrined Idalno, unmoving before him and staring at him from beneath a lined brow.

As he took a tentative step forward, his stomach lurched. The horrible taste of bile filled his mouth.

Even before he’d become a werewolf, he’d never been so sick in his life. Not even during the fever that had made him what he was now.

She at once pulled up a brown blanket and swept it around his bare shoulders, her face flushing. She clutched it closed at his chest and then, her pulse quickening, shifted it over so that it gaped on his side rather than the front.

The breeze ruffled the blanket, exposing his ribs, waist, hips, and thighs briefly. Her gaze meandered away.

Probably because he was somehow naked.

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