Page 11 of Plug and Tame

“Oh.” There were no words she could say to that. She stared at the soldiers with respect, her heart aching as she tried to comprehend that they were about to die.

The guards tensed as a distant commotion sounded from far away. People were yelling, and there was a loud crash that made the guards draw their weapons.

Nathaniel grimaced, causing deep lines that she’d never noticed before to appear on his face. “I’ll be arriving soon.”

It took her a moment to realise he meant his younger self. “If ‘you’ weren’t here yet, how can you remember what the corridor looked like before you showed up?”

“Because the corridor is how the guard remembered it.”

Realisation dropped like a lead weight in her stomach. “You drank the guard’s blood.”

“Not merely drank.” Shame flooded their bond like a dam had burst, and Nathaniel tried frantically to hold it back from her. “I drained him, and his final memories were transferred to me. It is something that can happen. They are a curse, a reminder that I carry with me always.”

Despondency overcame her. She felt sorry for the guard’s death, but she also felt sorry for Nathaniel, whose guilt seeped out of him like poison.

He exhaled sorrowfully. “Come. I want you to see them before…before I arrived.”

Nathaniel pushed the door open, but his hand and body passed right through it as he strode inside. Kira followed, unsettled by the way her own body passed through the wood as if it were nothing.

Inside was a nursery decorated in creams, pale blues, and pinks. One side of the room was lined with lavish beds. They were empty, their almost-pristine state suggesting they were rarely used. Some of the pillows had been chewed, the feather stuffing strewn across the floor amidst baby toys and dog bones.

The children—or pups—were all sleeping together by the fire on a large square mattress. They were all in wolf form, some curled up with their snouts hidden behind their tails, others stretched out on their backs with the golden glow of the fire warming their tummies.

The seven pups looked to be four or five years old. They were still young, their tan-coloured fur and dappled white spots. Each had a cluster of fluffy tails—the nine tail puppies she’d seen mounted on Nathaniel’s office wall were all here, alive in the flesh.

“Alive only in memory,” Nathaniel said sadly. “They were the offspring of King Bakker and his first wife, nine tails Queen Hannah. How it would have pained her to know what became of her children.”

Back in the cave, Nathaniel’s grip had tightened so much it hurt, his mounting dread adding to hers. Kira squeezed his hand back, silently consoling him when, perhaps, she should have condemned him.

It was only then that she noticed something peculiar in the memory: there were nine more puppies. They were nestled in amongst the tan-coloured one, but they were much smaller and with dark fur. Their appearance was distinctly wolf-like, and yet eerily different. Long, sabre teeth protruded from their snouts, and they had large claws like a lion. Each pup had nine whip-like tails with tufts of fur on the tips.

“They’re like little versions of me,” Kira thought.

“Not ‘like’,” Nathaniel corrected. “They are you. All nine of them.”

“Me?” Kira felt her stomach tighten. She moved to get a better look at the pups, treading lightly even though she knew they couldn’t hear her.

“Yes, you. What you see are your nine selves.”

She was shocked that there were nine.

She was even more shocked that Nathaniel knew about her true form. That’s what he’s implying, isn’t it?

Her heart lurched, and had she not felt his gentle thoughts now, she might have bolted from the cave. But he calmed her, and she became sure of one thing amidst her confusion; he had no intention of harming her.

She eyed one of the hybrid pups, whose snout was resting on a bone, his ears pricked as if he heard a disturbance. “How long have you known?”

“I’ve always known,” Nathaniel said quietly.

“This morning, in your bedroom. When I shifted by accident, you saw me.”

“I did. But I already knew.”

Her throat went dry. “It can’t be me.” Those nine dark-furred pups couldn’t possibly be her. She only had two wolf forms, whereas… “There are nine of them…” she began.

“Yes. Only two survived the night.”

She swallowed hard, her gaze roaming over the pups sleeping peacefully. The children of the Wolf King and Wolf Queen—her half brothers and sisters with the light-coloured fur—and the dark ones that were her, nine pups that made up one person.