Page 17 of The Howling

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“What happened?”

“Escape,” he growls, his face now in shadow.

“What?” I look around wildly, but it’s not clear where we are. I listen for the sound of the pursuing Redcaps.

“He hurt you,” Reavely snarls.

“Who? Lord Guyzance?” The last images I saw in the dungeon come slamming back into my brain and ice curls tentacle fingers around my guts. “Reavely.” My voice is hoarse. “What did you do?”

“Escape,” he says again. “He hurt you.” His shoulders heave, but it’s not with the exertion, it’s something else.

If Reavely has done anything to the Faerie lord, which seems to be an impossibility, we are both so, so fucked.

Before I can protest, I’m scooped back into Reavely’s arms, and he starts running again, transforming into his were-hound form, meaning I’m pressed against soft fur which smells like citrus.

How the hell can he smell so good after what I saw him doing in his cage? Once again, I’m hit with a flash of recall, of coming out of the storeroom, of the bent and shattered cage in the exact corner…he was urinating in.

Disgusting Reavely might have been, but he was planning to escape all along.

As he increases his speed, I cling on to him, unable to do anything else. All I can do is hope he stops soon because the way I feel, I’m going to pass out again. Every moment makes my ribs grate, and I’m finding it harder to breathe. It’s entirely possible Guyzance did me some real damage.

And I don’t heal any quicker in the Yeavering than I did back beyond the veil in my world. In fact, there are so many things which might kill me here, it’s amazing I’ve survived so long.

Maybe not this time. Maybe this is the end for me. Maybe Reavely will eat me after all.

My rather treacherous core flinches at the moment I think about being eaten, and I’m sure I feel the beast carrying me slow for an instant too.

But a massive monster like him won’t be interested in a tiny scrap of a human like me, and even if he was, given my experience with Lord Guyzance, I don’t think I’m up for anything inthatdepartment for a long, long time.

I need to get away from the Yeavering.

But first, I need Reavely to stop bouncing me around. Unable to stop myself, I groan out loud as he lands particularly hard.

Which means we come to a sudden halt which isn’t much fun either.

“Hurt?” he growls, his muzzle back once again.

“Yes, I’m hurt,” I retort, wincing at the stabbing pain in my side. “What do you expect after I’ve been attacked by a Faerie and tossed around like I’m some sort of toy?”

As the words tumble out of me, the tears I wasn’t expecting flow. I’m crying and I don’t know why. But now they’ve started, I can’t stop them, dropping my head into my hands even as the pain spikes once again in my chest.

I don’t know how long I cry, but I do notice when a large pink tongue laps at my hand. When I pull it from my face, the tongue laps over my cheek.

It’s a tongue which belongs to the biggest dog I’ve ever seen. His fur is as black as coal with a strange hue to it which is almost reminiscent of my hair colour. I should be terrified.

I am not.

The huge dog sits back on his haunches and cocks his head on one side, his massive ears pricked up as he looks at me. In dog form, Reavely has to be close to six foot in height in the sitting position. He is truly a sight to behold.

I can’t help but wonder why he has chosen to be in dog form.

As I take him in, he gets up and pushes his great head against me, nudging me to my feet as gently as he can, then he drops down on one front paw and uses his dark muzzle to push me against his fur.

He wants me to get on his back.

“I don’t know if I can,” I murmur. “It hurts.”

With infinite care, Reavely mouths at the back of my dress and helps me get up onto him. Once I’m sat astride, he gives the ruff on his neck a slow shake, and I bury my hands in it. With a brief glance at me, he sets one paw in front of the other, slowly at first as I get used to the motion, and then he speeds up when I don’t fall off.