Page 33 of The Howling
The Wyrm is making short work of the remainder of the food. His mate is tucked by his side, and his slightly chewed tail is curled over her lap.
My tail has remained stubbornly shifted, but it just wants to wave and wave like I’m a pup again, whereas I am not a pup. I am a grown Barghest.
“You definitely do like them, don’t you?” Wynter says, as I look down at the plate. There is only one left.
“For you, my mistress.” I hold it out for her.
“But who am I to deny the Barghest?” she says, taking it, her eyes twinkling with life.
It’s as if she has been healed, body and soul. Whether the food or the company, I cannot be sure, but I do know I want her to always look as she does now.
Wynter breaks the hinnie in half and hands one part back to me. “Because they are your favourite,” she says.
I don’t think I deserve her offering, but I catch the eye of the Wyrm, and he nods sagely, as if he knows everything about mating.
I know he does not. He didn’t even know what his prick was for when we fought in the Night Lands. He used it to pick things up.
Although clearly a lot has changed since then.
“Are you staying here?” Wynter asks the other female.
She looks at Fenrother.
“No,” she says. “I hope you don’t mind if we don’t. Fenrother likes his home and, well”—she pats her stomach—“I’m the same these days. I just wanted to meet Reavely’s mate.” She grins.
Wynter squirms a little on my lap, making my prick ache.
“I hope I passed the test,” she says.
“Any woman who can tame a Barghest passes the test,” Fenrother intones.
I growl at him.
“You are feral, are you not, soul eater?” he goes on. “It is the only reason you are allowed to roam the Yeavering.”
“Like you, I did my part for the Faerie, as much good as it has brought me and my kind.”
“The war in the Night Lands is something for Warden and the others. It is not for us,” Fenrother says, carefully. “I dealt with Queen Mab, and she will no longer be sending the inhabitants of the Yeavering there.” He strokes his chin. “But I have heard that Warden has returned to the Shadow-Keep.”
“And the absence of the queen will create a space for another,” I growl. “What have we unleashed?”
“The bringers of the light,” Fenrother says, staring into the fire.
“I exist in the darkness. We all do,” I rasp, acutely aware of the female on my lap and whom I want to be with, not discussing the horrors of the Night Lands with the Wyrm.
I need to be showing her my domain and explaining why she might want to stay here, with me, rather than going back beyond the veil.
“Even those who live in the dark must come out in the light occasionally,” Fenrother says. “Here-wulf.”
WYNTER
Reavely is subdued after Fenrother and Alice leave. Alice promised to return, and I can’t help but feel guilty about Kaitlyn, who might still be in Lord Guyzance’s clutches.
We both watch as Fenrother, in his dragon form, flaps off into the sky, with Alice on his back. My stomach dips as the vague recollection of riding Reavely sneaks back into my consciousness.
“You know what I said about wanting to go back beyond the veil?” I say to Reavely.
He nods curtly.
