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Ernest groaned while he made himself comfortable.
“Better try to survive first. It takes a minute just to get up.”
The thick brush was hard to get through. I felt scratches and tears in my skin until I broke through to a clearing. The small river was more of a creek that trickled through the forest over large rocks and moss. I dipped down to my knees and put the top of our canteens into the water.
The feeling of being watched slithered over me. Glancing up, I saw two sets of eyes staring back at me. They were familiar.
It was the talking wolf. I didn’t run instead I finished filling our canteens and tossed the straps over my shoulder. “Do you think I’m going to run?” I asked. “I’ve beat you once.”
He chuckled and stepped into the moonlight. I’d forgotten how big he was until he stopped closer and dipped his head for a drink. “That you did. You also stole your girl back from her. Impressive, I might say. I’ve been with her a long time and I’ve never seen anyone get over on her.”
I shrugged. “I’m not afraid of her, wolf.”
He grinned in a sinister way and jumped across the creek to stand in front of me. “No, but she’s afraid of you, Kellan.”
I waited on him to continue. There was so much knowledge in his eyes. “What do you know about her? Isn’t she your master?”
He snarled his lip at me. “I’m here because she made me this way. I do her bidding because she’d kill me if I didn’t. Just like that stupid bird. We weren’t always this way. I’m ...” He looked out into the forest, as if he saw someone. “I know Deidamia from her time before this.”
I shifted. “A time before what? Before becoming a witch?”
He shook his head and laid down at my feet, still almost eye level with me because of his size. “Before she became wicked.”
Curiosity swarmed me. “So, she’s always been a witch?”
He nodded once. “Just not a wicked one. Just like every love story, it starts with a man.”
“A true love?”
The wolf blinked. "A different kind of love. Her father. When her mother laid with another man, he killed her, remarried and tortured Deidamia almost every day. That’s when the evil came to her, in her lowest hour. She accepted her fate of becoming evil to kill her father and his new family. The evil consumed her. She became the demon that tempted her.” The wolf chuckled. “She hates love, Kellan. It’s the one thing that evil can’t fight against. True love.”
True love. Soulmates.
“Why are you telling me this?” I asked softly.
The wolf jumped to his feet. His gaze swept behind me and then over his shoulder. “Because we both know why you’re here. You have to kill her in her true form,” he whispered. “The dragon comes out at night. He’s always hovering beneath the surface, ready to shift. You have to bring him out. Threaten her. Hurt her. Then kill it. You kill it and you kill her. It’s that simple.”
I scoffed. No pressure. “Then why haven’t you tried to do it yourself?”
The wolf began to backtrack out of the forest and toward the dark one. “Don’t you think I’ve tried?” he asked. “Why do you think I’m this way? Plus, I’m not the hero in this story. You are.”
He grew more distant until his glowing eyes were the only thing I could see. I found my way back to the camp. Ernest was knocked out around the fire, snoring into the night, while I sat down in my usual seat.
Chugging the water, I wiped away the droplets that escaped down my chin. The night slid over me like a warm blanket. Sleep moved on me, and I attempted to close my eyes.
When I woke the next morning, Ernest was up, cooking what looked like a few quail eggs he’d gathered and warming the last loaf of bread. “Good morning,” he said with a yawn. “Sleep well?”
I groaned when I stood up. “As good as the base of a tree will let you. I had a chat with the talking wolf last night.”
Ernest stood up straight. “A talking wolf?”
“Yeah, I beat him to get to Josephine that first night. He told me a little about Deidamia. He said her father killed her mother for cheating on him. Then tortured her while starting a new family. Evil came to her in her darkest hours, and she became what she is now.”
Ernest poked at the eggs with a stick. “Sounds about right,” he mumbled. “The Dark One likes to recruit people while they’re suffering.”
I plucked a piece of bread from the fire and tossed it into my mouth. It’d been so long since I had a good meal that I was sure I would have lost my strength by now.
“He said true love is her weakness because she doesn’t trust men. She doesn’t trust relationships. She hates love.”
