Page 6 of Heart of the Wolf
Her father would have told her it was God’s will. The great white wolf that gazed upon her was not something the God she knew of would ever send to her. It looked like something from tales of the other gods, the ones the Norsemen spoke of. Heathens, as her father, would correct her.
Tilting its head, the wolf gleamed at her as if it were assessing her, searching for something in the depths of her dark, almond eyes. Curiosity sizzled through her like the sparks of a crackling fire. She gazed into the gray eyes of the creature, no longer as piercing as they had been earlier.
Now, they swirled like rain clouds on a summer’s day. Like the ones she used to chase as a child, hoping to find puddles to splash in. Cautiously, the wolf strode nearer until it loomed over her from behind, protectively, like a guardian.
The creature nudged her gently with its muzzle, urging her toward the ground by the fire, following her down until they were lying side by side. Instinctively, she nuzzled into its warmth, snuggling between its massive paws and thick coat.
Once she settled, the wolf lowered its head, resting it stiffly on its front paws, eyes trained on the mouth of the cave for any movement. She had no idea how late it waswhen she tossed another log on the fire. A quiet growl vibrated through the wolf’s chest, shaking her slightly with its power.
Using its muzzle, the wolf guided her back down until she was lying in the crook of its body once more. The body heat it generated would be enough to keep her warm throughout the night, even if the fire died.
She chuckled at the admonishment, shaking her head.
“Shall I tell you a story my mother once told me?” She swore she saw the wolf smile and took that as an invitation to continue. “Alright then,” she said, curling into the wolf’s chest. “Just don’t tell my father. He would be displeased if he knew of all the nonsense my mother filled my head with.”
Hackles briefly feathered on the wolf’s nape before it shook them away, licking its fangs.
“Thank you for your outrage on my behalf,” she grinned, scratching her fingers through the fur. “Long ago, there lived a brave warrior, strong and blessed with the gift of magic, whose blade was imbued with it. He fell in love with a fierce woman who was as mighty as she was beautiful. They fought to protect one another from their families, who strived to tear them apart. In death, they were separated, only to be reborn again, their fates entwined, destined to meet in every lifetime.”
A tear slid down her cheek. She swept it away, a watery chuckle falling from her lips. When she was younger, the lovers’ death saddened her most, but now it was the memory of her mother brushing her curls as she told her fairy tales.
She burrowed her red-rimmed eyes into the wolf’s chest, clinging to its fur. Hot breath fanned over her head, and the tension in her muscles eased.
“I always wanted to be like that woman in the story. Strong and beautiful with someone who loved me.”
The wolf rested its heavy muzzle on her shoulder, its cold snout nudging the hinge of her jaw. She grinned, cradling the blood-soaked fur in her tiny hand. Its eyes bore into hers, something known to her glimmering in its depths. With it, the secret she kept for almost a decade came tumbling out.
“Once, many years ago, I thought I had found the one my heart was bound to—the one who would love me and show what it meant to be strong. But I fear he died. I haven’t seen him in over five years. I think I am destined to walk this life alone.”
The fire crackled, spitting sparks. Something dulled in the wolf’s gaze, the silver flecks flickering out. The sounds of the forest quieted until all she heard was the blood thundering in her ears. She swallowed, her hand falling into her lap.
A deep sound purred low in the wolf’s throat, nearly shaking her with its force. Neither of them looked away. Minutes ticked by, the final flames in the dying fire sputtering.
“Did I upset you?” she asked, the words barely a whisper.
Slowly, she carded her fingers through the matted fur around its ears, stroking the spot as it nudged her palm. Ears twitching, its gaze snapped to the cave’s entrance before landing back on her. With its massive muzzle, it urged her back into the crook of its body, the two of them curling into each other.
She tucked her face into the nook of the wolf’s neck, inhaling the subtle scent of pine and mist-soaked mornings. Her hand hovered over its heart, her breath catching when it beat in time with hers, never missing a step.
Eventually, Brielle lulled into a deep sleep, soothed by the steady rhythm under her hand, and the wolf wrapped protectively around her.
All too soon, dawn broke. Slivers of the sun streamed in, pushing against her eyelids. She blinked, slowly remembering where and what she had fallen asleep with.
The fire was nothing more than smoldering ash, but she wasn’t cold. Her cloak was wrapped snugly around her shoulders, the wolf still dutifully cocooning her.
Lazily, she stretched out, pushing blood through her stiff muscles. The pain in her head was now more of a dull ache.
However, she couldn’t shake the blurry vision and nausea that greeted her when she woke up. She rolled over, tracing her fingers over the bandage still secured to the wolf’s hind leg. It wasn’t completely soaked with blood, which was a reassuring sign.
On unsteady feet, she took an uneven breath, trying to focus despite the dizziness consuming her. The great wolf stood to join her, the top of her head barely reaching its back. Without thinking, she placed a tiny hand on its haunches while she blinked, swallowing down a bitter taste.
Icy eyes roamed over her; the wolf’s mouth thinned in a disapproving line.
“Follow me to the stream?” she asked. “I can clean your wound, reapply the salve, and add a fresh bandage. You should improve in a few days, and I can return home.”
Brielle gingerly moved toward the exit. As she stepped outside, the pulse of the winter sun warmed her skin. Not far from the cave, she heard the babbling sound of a brook. Walking slower than usual, the wolf lumbered beside her, its gaze tracking her every movement.
When they arrived, she was pleased to see the stream hadn’t frozen over yet. A dense layer of frost covered theground, but the nights had yet to be continually frigid, allowing the water to flow freely still.
