Page 30 of The Howling
There was a reason I stayed with the Reaper, why I took souls, why I spent as much time chasing down those who perpetrated the atrocity on my family.
Because they are all still here. All save my father. They haunt these stones with a ferocity they put into living within them.
A constant reminder of what I couldn’t prevent, and the curse I cannot break.
“She is beautiful.” Mother says. “You have chosen well.”
“I haven’t chosen at all.” I grumble. “The Yeavering chose her and she doesn’t like it.”
“My big handsome boy can bring her around.” She says.
I want to smile, but the weight of what I cannot do sits heavily on my shoulders.
“Maybe.”
“I will be waiting, Reavely.” She says, fading away.
And with her goes my heart. At least until the next time I have to speak with the dead, and try not to promise them anything.
I make my way through my castle to the great hall. The banners shine like they haven’t in decades and there is the most enormous blaze in the hearth. The Duegar have returned, it appears happily, at the Hedley Kow’s suggestion and the little invisible creatures have made themselves at home with their usual offerings.
They believe I will protect them from the Faerie, who so often use them as slaves.
There is also a large table, groaning with food, surrounded by chairs and…another great creature who is merrily eating his fill.
“Fenrother.” I snarl his name, closing the distance between us.
The damned Wyrm doesn’t even look up at me as I slam into the side of him, sending us both tumbling over and over.
I have to kill the intruder, and I will, regardless of what or who he is.
WYNTER
I’m not sure what wakes me, but I feel much better for a short nap. I still only have the stupid wedding dress to wear, so I pull it on, and it tightens around me like some weird snake skin. Given this is the Yeavering, I try not to be too creeped out.
Dressed, I head down the stairs to the great hall, where I hear voices. Not voices I recognise.
Has Lord Guyzance tracked us down? My stomach drops to the ground. Would Reavely give me up, having brought me all this way?
Then the low rumbling is interspersed by a higher, feminine voice. Not a female Faerie, who generally sound like foghorns. This is a human voice.
“Kaitlyn?” I burst into the hall to be presented with, not my friend, but another woman.
And the sight of Reavely with his huge clawed hand around the throat of another vast monster, a dragon man with scales, a tail, and wings, one who is looking at Reavely as if being held by the throat is not only nothing new but not bothering him in the slightest.
“Oh, hi!” the lady says to me. “You must be Wynter. What a pretty name. I’m Alice and this is Fenrother.” She gestures to the monster.
I open and close my mouth like a carp.
Fenrother looks at me, and despite Reavely growling, lifting him higher and pushing his claws further into his neck, he lifts a hand where he has a steak speared on a single claw and puts it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.
“Don’t…eat…at my mate,” Reavely says through enormous fangs.
I look at Alice. She shrugs. “Looks like yours is as possessive as mine,” she says.
“Reavely isn’t my mate,” I say swiftly.
“Oh, really?” Alice raises her eyebrows, looking over her shoulder at the pair. Fenrother is glaring at Reavely now but making no attempt to get out of his grip. “Could have fooled me.”
