Page 44 of Stolen By The Beast
The acrid smoke burned my eyes and throat, and once inside, it took a minute for my vision to adjust to the dark interior.
When I toppled off the stool, it had rolled several inches, coming to a stop in the fire. While I was playing hide-and-seek with the weasel, the wooden stool had begun to smolder. And now it was on fire.
Worse, hungry flames were licking up the wall nearest the fireplace. We’d been in the house only a short while, and I’d already managed to set it on fire.Twice.
But the first time didn’t count. I’d added it to the list of things I couldn’t, or refused to, remember.
Besides, this fire was bigger than the last. And if I didn’t do something quick, it might actually burn the house to the ground.
Stumbling to the door, I grabbed one of the three water buckets. With the help of adrenaline, I managed to lift the first bucket and toss it on the burning wall.
It took all three buckets, and the bucket we kept outside the door for washing our hands, but I eventually managed to get the fire out.
Gagging on the smoke still drifting around the cabin, I checked the soup and was surprised to find it hadn’t burned. There might have been a few flecks of ash floating on the surface, but I was going to pretend they were on purpose to add flavor.
Staggering outside, I coughed and sucked in lungfuls of clean air. As the adrenaline drained from my body, my knees wobbled.
Unable to stand, I collapsed to the ground. Wrapping my arms around my knees, I wiped at my soot-covered face.
“Juniper!” Karvik’s roar scared the crap out of me, and I flattened my hand over my heart to keep it inside my chest.
“I’m fine.” My voice cracked, contradicting my words, thanks to the smoke I’d inhaled.
Dropping to his knees, Karvik grasped my chin between his claws and turned my head, searching for injuries.
“Stop worrying,” I croaked, patting his arm in reassurance.
“I will worry if I wish to worry. And I have decided I do wish to worry.” Karvik’s growl added to the absurdity of his words, and I started to laugh.
The laugh was short-lived, though, when it turned into a coughing fit.
“How much of the smoke did you breathe in?” Karvik demanded, beginning to check my limbs.
I winced when the palm of his hand brushed a line of angry, pink skin on my arm.
“You’ve been burned.” Karvik’s teeth snapped together, a gesture he did when agitated.
“I’ll heal. Shouldn’t you go check the cabin?” Tears blurred my vision.
“Why?” Karvik lifted my feet, checking the soles for burns.
“Because you built this home for me, and I damaged it.”
Karvik paused, staring at me while holding my right foot in the air. “Little one, I do not care about the house. It is just wood. You can burn a hundred cabins down, for all I care. I will build you another.”
My chin quivered, but I fought to keep it together. My monster might not ever say he loved me, but he was good at finding a thousand ways to show me how he felt.
“Do not risk your life again. Next time, leave the house to burn. Do you understand me?” Karvik growled.
I nodded. The thing was, I’d understood him, but I would do the exact same thing next time I caught the cabin on fire.
Although I hoped there wouldn’t be a next time.
“Good.” Karvik slid his arms beneath me and stood. “Let’s clean you up. Then we will eat outside to give the smoke time to clear from the cabin.”
“When you were putting out the fire, did you spill water in the food?” Karvik sniffed the bowl of soup I’d sat in front of him.
“No, silly! This is called soup. Humans eat it all the time.” I sagged to the ground beside him, my bowl of soup warming my palms.
