Page 69 of The Ashpaw: Part One

The sun was still barely over the horizon, and the road they traveled on was bracketed by thick, deep woods.

It would be easy to disappear…

And then what? she asked her wolf. Since you seem to be full of ideas.

Water, the wolf responded quickly. There was no hint of mirth in her voice. We find water first.

Fern nodded to herself. That was actually a good plan.

When the cart hit a long stretch of uneven terrain, the bumping causing the barrels and crates to bang together loudly, Fern made her move, slithering out like a snake and landing on soft feet.

Crouching low, she darted for trees, hiding behind one and pausing, waiting to see if the driver had heard her.

He had not.

She’d… she’d done it.

She was out.

She wanted to cry out in joy, weep with relief, and ignore the strange despair that remained in her chest.

Her wolf reminded her why that was there.

We left him, she said sadly.

We had to, Fern reminded her.

But he’ll miss us.

His mate was going to kill us!

Her wolf thought for a moment.

We should be his mate.

Fern began walking, not sure if she’d find water in that direction, but it was as good a guess as any.

A splendid theory. Pity reality exists. Because who do you think Darion would most likely choose—the stunning, politically advantageous Lurvekh, or the plain human he marked by mistake?

We are not plain!

Fern snorted. That’s what offends you?

We are beautiful, our coat shiny and eyes bright. She’s—

It doesn’t matter anyway! Fern replied. I don’t even want him. Did you ever consider that?

Her wolf rolled her eyes. Wolves are terrible liars.

Then, apparently done with the conversation, she slinked back off to wherever she liked to hide. Where Fern could not see her.

Which was all well and good, because Fern needed to concentrate.

She slipped deeper into the trees, expecting to feel lighter with every step.

As a girl, the woods beyond her village had been the one place where she could live in her imagination with her friend, with no one to tease her for her pockets full of rocks.

The forest had been as much a part of her home and daily life as the tavern.