Page 61 of Courting the Dragon King

And then there were Wraith’s own words about Umbra: “She was the only one who’d ever loved me.”

What the fuck is going on in the royal family of Necros? Why would Wraith be so isolated and alone?

“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you,” Wraith whispered as he ran his hands over Umbra’s shifting black-and-grey form.

Everyone who saw the two of them watched them with fear and apprehension, the necromancer and his hellhound. Konrad had felt the same way. So much so that he’d drawn a weapon on the hellhound. But now he saw Wraith and Umbra for what they truly were.

Just a boy and his dog.

It seemed that for many years, the two had only had each other.

Konrad remembered losing Bones. He’d been so distraught. But Konrad had always had family to care for him.

Umbra rolled around on the floor.

“You’re so good,” Wraith said. “You’re always such a good dog, my little Fluffy.”

“Fluffy?” Konrad chuckled. “She’s not very fluffy.”

Wraith froze. He looked up at Konrad, eyes wide.

“Yes.” Then he looked back down at the hellhound. “But she was fluffy before she died. She had this beautiful, soft white fur. I loved patting her and burying my face in it. So I named her Fluffy.”

Konrad frowned. “But you call her Umbra.” Which was, admittedly, a much more appropriate name for a hellhound.

“I named her Fluffy when I was a child and she was a living dog. But then she died and became my hellhound.” Wraith licked his lips. “Vex said Fluffy was a ridiculous name for a hellhound. She and Harrow laughed and would mock her.”

This was the first time Wraith had ever mentioned his brother and sister. It did not sound like they had been loving siblings.

“Others would laugh at her name too. So I changed the name from Fluffy to Umbra. I didn’t want anyone to laugh at her. I asked her, and she said she was happy for me to change it.” Wraith paused. “Most of the time, I call her Umbra. But sometimes, I still call her Fluffy.”

A smoky-foggy tongue lolled from Umbra’s mouth.

“You asked her? You can hear her talk?” Konrad asked.

Wraith nodded. “I created her. And now she speaks to me. But she can’t speak to anyone else.”

Wraith pulled off the sash that wrapped around his middle. He held out the end to Umbra. He waved it around. Umbra lunged and bit the fabric. She pulled, and Wraith pulled, in a game of tug of war. Umbra growled.

Konrad chuckled. “So she can touch objects, but not people?”

“Sometimes she can touch objects.” Wraith’s brows furrowed. “I don’t understand how it works. She can touch this sash. However, your dagger would have been unable to touch her. It’s a bit confusing.”

Konrad watched them play for a few moments. “So was it worth it?”

“Was what worth it?” Wraith asked.

“Bringing her back. After all, it made you sick and almost killed you.”

“Of course it was worth it,” Wraith said, no doubt in his tone.

“Does she have any special abilities?” After all, she was a hellhound. She should be able to do something.

Umbra wrested the sash from Wraith. She shook her head, the sash flinging around.

She really is like any dog.

“She is a psychopomp.”