“Trauma can cause a wolf to adopt his animal form long term,” Vincent explained, “but usually they can be coaxed back into their human body.” His voice clipped off, refraining from stating in Terran’s presence the part about only a stronger werewolf being able to trigger a change.
“You need to find his pack’s Alpha,” Terran told me.
“What if he’s the Alpha?”
“If he chose this form to escape, he’s not the Alpha anymore. He would more than likely be a second.” Terran made a face, and I wondered if it was from the knowledge that even a lower-status wolf was stronger than he was. The way other packs responded to the mere mention of Terran’s name, I’d always figured he was one of the most powerful in the country. Watching him reconcile being in the presence of one stronger—even after adopting their wolf as their permanent form—was uncomfortable to watch. He quickly grew tired of it.
“After you find out who’s trying to poison you, look for his pack,” were his parting words. Wish he’d offered to help. Finding the wolf’s pack would be easier with pack assistance.
I kneeled beside the wolf, stroking lightly over his fur. I ran my hand along his jaw and leaned close so only he could hear. “Who are you?” I implored against his ear. I moved, so that we were face to face. For a heartbeat, the wolf seemed to look through me. Something in his expression changed—not just animal intelligence in understanding my question, but something deeper: sadness, yearning.
“Let’s go home,” I sighed. “I’ll get you something delicious to eat.” I hoped he’d enjoy the steak thawing in my fridge. If he didn’t, he’d have to hunt on his own. There was no way I had the emotional fortitude to provide dine-in service for this type of predator. Bambi was safe from me ever providing him as din-din for the wolf. As we walked back to the house, I was painfully aware of the magic echoing from the poison arrow in my hand.
My wolf friend wasn’t a pet—more like a compact car-sized protector that ensured no one came within a foot of me. I was definitely the talk of the neighborhood.
“She’s not human.”
“I wish she’d move—there’d be fewer witches and other creepy things around.”
“Who has a wolf as a companion?”
“I bet that’s a werewolf she kidnapped—I knew she was trouble.”
“Vampire food and now werewolf consort.”
Most of the comments were the result of active imaginations, but made about me just quietly enough to pretend they were whispering.
I wasn’t helping the matter by traipsing through the neighborhood with midnight menace at my side, brandishing an arrow in one hand, a baton in the other, and having a one-sided conversation trying to coax the wolf into changing into his human form. A dejected whimper made me believe he couldn’t change. So, I focused on what was in front of me while the wolf’s head swiveled, taking in the surroundings and leaving me confident another attack was coming. Nearly three blocks from my house, my companion stopped. A deep rumble reverberated in his chest, and he turned around, slowly walking in the opposite direction. Before I could speak, he nudged his head in the direction of my house and sprinted away.
Distracted by the attempt on my life, it was easy not to fixate on my confusion about the wolf’s abrupt departure. I settled on an unreasonably optimistic answer: He’d found the assailant and was going to handle it. There was no evidence to support my theory, but the string of losses left me desperate for a win. Amelia’s absence left me without the voice of reason. I’d even take her usual haranguing side-eye.
My musings jolted to a stop at the shimmering outline on the landing of my house.
“I would have met you inside, but I’ve been forbidden from just showing up.” From Cirrian’s deviant smile, he was enjoying his malicious compliance. Quickly walking to the front door, I held my response until we were inside. He couldn’t seem to wait the few seconds it took me to punch in the code to the house, so disappeared and was waiting for me on the other side.
“You could call,” I said when I was inside, having refused to let my neighbors see me talking to myself.
“Is that another rule? No.” He dismissed it with a wave of his hand.
Showing him the arrow, I said, “Someone tried to kill me. I think. Definitely attempted to poison me.”
He blinked a few times. “I might have to sequester you until you’re able to release the lycanthropes,” he said, examining the arrow. He inhaled the tip. “How do you know there’s poison on it?”
“Terran told me.”
“Terran?”
“The local Alpha.”
“Your employment is with the vampires, so why do you spend so much time with this man?”
“I don’t spend time with him. He’s confused by me and how he feels around me—it’s complicated.”
“Doesn’t sound complicated. He’s drawn to you. Don’t downplay your beauty, Kara. It is very enchanting.”
“I’m aware of how I look.” I flashed a grin similar to the one he gave me when I acknowledged how beautiful he was. “Anyway, he’s not attracted to me in that way.”
I didn’t know why I was reluctant to share what happened between me and Terran. Perhaps it was how the wolf kept responding to Cirrian. Previously, at the sound of his voice, he’d absconded. I assumed sensing Cirrian was the reason he ran away again. It wasn’t a coincidence. Suspicion had settled hard, overriding my attraction, as Cirrian moved closer, studying me with a curious cast over his face and slowly running his tongue over his lips as he looked thoughtfully at me and the arrow.
