Page 23 of Unraveled
But this wolf feels different somehow. Like something out of a textbook I’ve seen before, though I can’t quite place it.
The wolf doesn’t move, and its eyes follow me as I round the bed toward the door. Surely, after he cared for my wounds, Finley will come help me if he hears me scream?
“Finley, there is a beast in the room!”
The wolf tilts its head, blinking rapidly before sitting back on its hindquarters. It snorts in my direction, as if protesting my choice of words—as if it understood me.
I have gone mad.
We stare at each other, unblinking. My breathing slowly eases, and my arms relax in front of me. “Are you going to hurt me?”
The wolf huffs and lies down, placing its head on top of its two front paws as its curious eyes follow me.
I walk toward the windows. I can’t hear Finley outside, and I can’t stay here and wait for this wolf to change its mind and eat me. If what I suspect is true, and Ash plans to go back to Penumbra and finish what he started yesterday, I must get back.
Everyone in the city is in danger. Somehow, I know without a doubt that he will succeed next time.
Between the two windows, there’s a polished wooden dressing table, caked with dust and topped with knickknacks that are of no use to me. I rummage through the contents of the first drawer. Slips, ribbons, and lacey things. I don’t know whose room this was before, nor do I care.
The candelabra shakes in my hand, and I pull it close when I hear the wolf shift toward me.
I might be imagining things, but I swear the creature’s eyes narrow at me. “I like wolves,” I say, feeling crazier than before, “but you have four eyes. And I’m a prisoner here, so I can’t just trust you.”
The second drawer is full of the same things, and I shut it when I see an insect with a stinger crawling around inside. Good to know I won’t be opening that drawer ever again.
I step to the window closest to the door. The handle doesn’t move, and judging by the gentle vibration coming from it, a spell keeps it locked.
I groan again, holding my injured side as I walk around the dressing table and try the second window. Locked.
“I don’t suppose you have magic and can help me open this thing,” I say to the wolf.
Its ears perk up, and it raises its head. Mist lifts from its fur to crawl across the floor toward me. Panic renewed, I press my body against the wall, my breath hitching as my lungs freeze.
The wolf’s magic doesn’t reach for me, however. Instead, it wraps around the window lever, and the metal shrieks. My lips part as the wolf’s aura darkens. Glowing dots of light twinkle around it, a living night sky right in front of me.
The glass shakes behind me, and I hear the handle screech as it turns. But I don’t move a muscle. My eyes remain glued to the beast. I’ve lived my entire life in Penumbra, surrounded byhumans, but through the grimoires I’ve learned about ancient beings. I’ve read about beasts with auras of night.
This wolf has to be one of the sacred spirits of the gods, brought to the lands of mortals by the fae eons ago and rumored to live among the royal fae.
My blood runs cold. Yesterday, I thought Ash might be fae. That perhaps he was cursed, since he acted so different from the lunargyres outside. But I brushed it off. It was easier to imagine him being a monster who took over the ruins and feasted on the old race.
But what if the fae hadn’t disappeared? What if they were cursed and turned into beasts?
My mouth is so dry I can barely swallow. Ash is a beautiful beast. His face is a gift of symmetrical angles and a very straight nose. His eyes—ones I foolishly looked into—shine with ancient magic.
I press my fingers against the frigid window. The early winter air filters in through the opening, seeping through the layers of my borrowed dress.
Never look a fae in the eyes.
The wolf huffs again, and its purple tongue lolls out, its mouth twisting into something akin to a smile. The room smells musky, and the scent tickles something in the back of my mind. Familiar, yet strange.
Movement outside my window calls me. I reluctantly pull my eyes from the ancient wolf spirit and take in the massive rosebushes climbing the outside wall, thousands of black blooms standing in contrast to the shiny, deep green leaves.
My heart squeezes at the sight of it. No rose could climb this high unless it was aided by magic. I’ve stumbled on something bigger than myself, and I’m working against a powerful foe. I’m one bad decision away from getting eaten by beasts, or worse, being held prisoner for the rest of my life by a cursed fae.
If only I had my amulet, I could use a wind spell to get myself out of here. Fire to defend myself, like I did yesterday.
In the courtyard, broken pavers litter the ground. The overgrown trees have lost all their leaves, and a dried fountain rests in the middle.
