Page 17 of Fate Promised

“Wait a second. You’ve made your hair a mess. Bend down.” She reached out, and when he froze, she snatched her hand back. “I mean, is it okay if I touch you?”

He swallowed hard. “It’s fine.” His voice came out deeper.

Triska reached up toward his face, and he ducked his head, his gaze locking on hers. “I don’t really have hair.”

“Yes, you do. Up here on your head and around your face you do.”

“I’d say it’s more like fur.”

She smoothed the hair down but lingered, running her fingertips along his forehead and between his ears.

Juri purred, the hum rumbling out of his chest in a rusty murmur. Her eyelids fluttered, and she stepped closer. One of her hands landed on his chest, and her gaze lowered to it. “We both still have that mark on our chests. Is it really a rune?”

“Aye, we need to talk about that.” He’d learned about runes last year when a different one showed up, one not intended for him. He’d recognized that it was the same type of symbol he and Triska had shared all those years ago, and he’d learned a little about them. “I also want to know when you started shooting off magic.” The corner of his mouth curled upward.

“Come for dinner.” She glanced around at the beach. “After we sort this out.”

He thought he’d forgotten how to breathe; all he could do was nod. Dinner with Triska? Just the two of them? He couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do more. Even killing Hoyt came in a distant second.

As he turned to join Kyril, Triska remained at his side, her steps quick to keep up with his, and he slowed, making it easier for her to stride through the sand.

When he approached Kyril, his pack brother’s eyes flashed red. “The puny human leader of this town has tried to commandeer us,” he said in Vulk. “We take no orders from humans.”

The people of Ryba huddled together, a few faces still ashen. His mother and his brothers weren’t here, but they could have been. Ice crept down his spine. The vulk protected Ulterra. This was their duty.

And he’d failed tonight.

“We have the same goal as the mayor,” Juri said in the common tongue. “To get rid of the necromancers. It will be beneficial to work with the people of the town to hunt them down.”

Juri glanced over his shoulder. “And we’ll need a boat to get to that island.”

“Are you kidding?” Kyril said in Vulk. “These humans will only get in the way.”

Juri raised a brow. “Do you know how to sail?”

Kyril growled, and the mayor’s eyes widened. He edged a few steps away. “Vulk are land animals,” Kyril said. “I don’t go on the water.”

Juri coughed, but it was half a cough and half the Vulk word for baby.

Kyril bared his teeth again.

“We’ll need to work together.”

One of the little boys who’d been playing tag earlier stared up at Juri. “Are you really going to protect the village?”

As Kyril shook his head no, Juri only had eyes for Triska. “Yes, I am.”

7

Triska stood barefoot on the icy floorboards of her bedroom, unlocking the drawer in her desk. The past hour had whirled by in confusion and chaos as the villagers left the beach and returned to the main street of Ryba where the tavern stood. Juri had been surrounded by a group of younger men, all wolfwalkers, peppering him with questions until Mrs. Doubek, Callum and Liam in tow, charged down the street and greeted him.

For the first time, she saw Juri smile, and even though he was a vulk with wolf-like ears, a muzzle, and dark fur smattering over his body, he still had human qualities. His limbs were muscular and defined like a man’s with wide and powerful shoulders and chest, and his smile was the same slightly mischievous one he’d had as a kid. He’d picked his mother up mid-sentence and whirled her around until she laughed. He put her down before hauling a boy up under each arm.

Triska remained a few minutes longer, then went to the tavern to hunt down her father. He’d heard what happened and was on the street, and after they spoke, he’d slipped into the crowd to find the mayor to help. So, she’d come home.

She slid open the drawer and lifted Juri’s letter and some of her drawings out. A few of the sketches, the ones she’d made before she’d gotten Juri’s letter, showed a young man with hair that curled at the tips, giving a cheeky grin. Always a cheeky grin.

The later sketches were of a vulk.

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