Page 43 of The Lost Child

I knew deep down that Canavar was staying for me. I wasn’t sure what to think of that, other than the startling realization that I could use it to free him.

I stayed right on Alkdama’s heels, and asked my final question before I lost my nerve. “Let’s say he’s willing. Could I break his curse or not?”

Alkdama whipped around, her braids nearly smacking me in the face.

“I mean, once I train more, obviously,” I mumbled back, unsure of why I felt almost submissive to this woman. She’d never laid a hand on me, and yet I already had double the amount of respect for her than I’d ever had for my father.

And fear, I supposed. I never truly feared my father, even as a young child with a sore backside bent over his knees. He beat me because I wouldn’t bend and that made him weak, not me.

Alkdama had power. It radiated about her in a way that my father only wished he could imitate. I didn’t understand her, so it was easy to be wary.

“The curse is deeply rooted within him. It would kill you to try.” She huffed. “You may continue to use my tent with your draken, but for his health, you should return soon. You are welcome to return without him.”

Ha, as if my father would ever let me return. Then again, he’d always wanted me to have powers and use them for the company. Yet I was growing more and more confident that I didn’t want to be used by him like that—like he used Canavar.

I opened my mouth to ask ifshecould break his curse, but when I glanced up, Alkdama was gone.

My hands fisted at my sides. I wouldn’t take Canavar back to my father. I wouldn’t.

* * *

My stomach was grumbling by the time we made it back.

Canavar pushed ahead of me to dive back into the hut first. I pushed down my flare of irritation, only for adrenaline to shoot through my veins as a blood curdling scream erupted from in front of me.

I flew into the hut to find Canavar snarling over the young girl from earlier who’d been studying blood magick outside with the older woman. Her back was on the floor, her hands held up in terror shielding her face. She was covered head to toe in a thick, orange soup, and a few crushed biscuits littered the ground around her.

“Canavar! No!” I got in his face with my hands on his chest and pushed him back. I didn’t let up until he begrudgingly stepped away. I pushed on his shoulders, and he sat down on the floor, still glaring at the girl.

“Stay here,” I ordered sharply, then whirled around to help the girl. “Are you alright?” I didn’t have anything to help her wipe the crud off her face and clothes, but I did offer an elbow to help get her off the floor. “I’m sorry, he’s a bit … protective.”

The girl was shaking slightly, her eyes pinned on Canavar. “I will clean up and return. My apologies. I will get you more.”

Oh. Oh! She was covered in a meal meant for us. Now I felt like an asshole on Canavar’s behalf.

“It’s OK,” I started, “I’m sure we can—”

“No! No. I’ll be back.” The girl scrambled to get her feet under her and flew from the tent.

I whipped around to glare at Canavar, but he had already crossed half of the distance between us. Before I could even open my mouth to chastise him, his face pushed into the hollow of my neck. Strong arms came around my waist to hold me in place, and he sniffed me. With my hands on his bare chest, I tried to push him away, but it was like trying to move an island.

“Get off! I’m pissed at you!”

If he thought we could be all snuggly now, he was sorely mistaken.

He must have smelled whatever he was looking for, because his hands dropped away from me, and he took a half step back.

“It wouldn’t kill you to be sociable,” I grumbled. “Try not to frighten her when she comes back. She was only trying to bring you food.”

His nose flared at that, wings perking slightly.

I rolled my eyes. “Sit, big guy.” I pointed to the pile of furs in the corner.

Canavar stared me down.

Men. “Fine, I’ll go as well.”

I made my way to the corner and the tidy little nest of furs. Canavar waited until I sat down, then joined me.

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