Page 58 of The Wolf and Her Shadows

“Good. I’ve grown quite fond of you if you haven’t noticed. Your hands alone are worth far more than–” The words die in my throat as her lips press against mine.

Our kiss is soft, unhurried in a way that none of our previous kisses have been. Neither of us deepen it either, simply enjoying the feel of our mouths moving against each other’s. Sadly, it ends much too quickly for my liking when a soft breeze blows through the trees, causing us both to gasp when the cold air hits our damp skin.

Glaring up at the sky, I mutter, “That was rude.”

Vannaria chuckles, her teeth clattering slightly. “Probably for the best. This water is freezing. I’m half afraid my nipples are going to fall off if I stay in it much longer.”

“Well, we certainly can’t have that.” I take a step back so I can look down at her chest. “I prefer your nipples right where they are.”

“And I feel the same about yours.” She holds up the washrag she’s somehow managed to keep ahold of throughout our embrace. “I wash your back, you wash mine?”

I nod. “Sounds good to me, as long as you’re comfortable with me touching you.”

“Eh.” She shrugs. “I’m sure it’ll be fine as long as you don’t intentionally try to drown me. Which I’m not too worried about, seeing as how that would make it a bit hard for me to cook your dinner, make our camp, give you a massage…”

“Alright yes, you’ve made your point. Seeing as how Aren was able to keep the pain at bay, I suppose I can help you set up camp tonight.” I turn my back to her, lifting my hair over my shoulder so my back is exposed. “Now hurry up, would you? I’m starving.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Once we’ve both scrubbed our skin nearly raw, and laid out our bedrolls, Vannaria goes about preparing our dinner while I gather up the clothes she’d already piled by the stream. She’d argued with me a bit, claiming she’d wash them all in the morning, but I’d been able to silence her with a soft kiss, whispering that I needed to keep my hands occupied or else neither of us would be eating any time soon.

It honestly wasn’t a lie. I most certainly need a distraction right now. Although in hindsight I might should’ve picked a better one.

Dipping Vannaria’s shirt into the now frigid water, I grimace, grateful for the darkness for hiding the grime and blood washing down stream as I scrub the fabric together. How much more blood will we have to wash out of our clothes before this is all said and done?

Sucking in a shaky breath, I lay her shirt aside and pick up her breastplate. Careful not to get it too wet, I caress my fingers over the worn leather, mentally comparing all the scratches and nicks to the glowing scars I’d seen when Vannaria had shown me their true body. How many times has this armor been the only thing standing between her and death?

My eyes begin to burn. It won’t be enough. Not against my father. And certainly not against the king and his entire army. A single tear trails down my cheeks. I’m no fool. Neither of us are going to survive–

My thoughts fall away as I whip my head towards a flash of light in my periphery. Squinting into the darkness, I slowly climb to my feet, clutching Vannaria’s breastplate to my chest. Another flash, this one unmistakably a glint of moonlight on metal. A distant part of my brain is telling me to ignore it, to warn Vannaria that danger might be near. But my body moves of its own accord, my bare feet making no sound as I slowly walk toward whatever it may be.

Excitement bubbles up in my chest, the sensation foreign in a way that’s indescribable. Almost as if my soul knows something my mind has yet to grasp.

After what feels like both mere minutes and an eternity all at once, my feet still. Blinking as if waking from a dream, I glance around the area I’ve seemingly been led to. I’m standing before a tree with a small sword stuck neatly into the ground at its base.

A familiar sword.

Gasping in shock, I drop to my knees and instinctually reach out toward it. My hand trembles as I wrap my fingers around the hilt, gently pull it free from the dirt. Laying the blade across my lap I can’t help but smile, remembering how it had once felt impossible large in my tiny hands.

My smile falters, brows furrowing in confusion as another beam of moonlight flashes across the blade. There’s not a single bit of rust on it. But how? And how is it even here? I lost it nearly twenty years ago.

It was the first sword my mother ever gave me. I’d dropped it one day when me and Stephan had been pretending to be heroes, swinging our tiny blades all about and loudly proclaiming we were vanquishing monsters. When we saw what we’d thought to be a real monster through the trees, we’d both thrown our swords toward it and ran. Our screams had followed us all the way back to the village.

My fingers trace over the engraving carved into the base of the blade, not needing to be able to see it now to remember what it says. Taking a deep breath, I whisper, “Keep your teeth bared, Little Wolf.”

A wave of calm determination washes over me.

Still clutching Vannaria’s armor to my chest, I rise to my feet, sword in hand. Looking up at the moon, I shake my head, unable to hold back a smile. “Alright, I suppose I’ll forgive you for interrupting our kiss earlier.”

My walk back to camp goes by quickly, further solidifying the otherworldly experience I’d just had. Seeing Vannaria still crouched over the fire, seemingly unaware of my temporary absence, I quietly put her breastplate back with the rest of our armor and retake my previous position, kneeling by the water’s edge. Placing the sword on the ground beside me, I grab the shirt I’d more or less finished scrubbing and drape it over a nearby branch to dry.

Humming softly to myself, I resume washing the blood out of our clothes, comforted by the knowledge that very little of it is ours.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Rayne

One moment I’m dreaming of riding Razoni through a field of wildflowers, his horn glistening and long mane tickling my cheeks as he runs, and the next I’m abruptly woken up by a sharp pain on our right tit. Our bare tit. Opening my eyes, I glance down at our chest just in time for the hand cupping our breast to squeeze it a second time.