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The hound gives me a soft nod.
I wrap my arms around his large head and give him a gentle hug. “Whatever happened to you in the past, I’m sorry, but I swear to take good care of you.”
He makes a bark that almost sounds like gratitude.
Releasing the hug, I rise to my feet and thread my fingers through the thick fur around the back of his head.
“Come inside, boy,” I say.
The hound steps over the threshold of my cottage with a yip.
My heart feels light for the first time since the Boogie Man clawed Aggie. I walk toward the kitchenette and open the cupboards. When I lived with Grandma, she always kept the guest cottage well-stocked with food we preserved during the summer.
In the first cupboard, I find two whole chickens and a leg of lamb wrapped in preserving paper.
The hound raises his paws to the counter, making me giggle.
“Eager, are we?” I ask.
He gives me a throaty bark.
After selecting the lamb, pulling off the preservation charm, and placing the joint on a plate, I set the meal on the floor. The hound gazes up at me for several seconds, his eyes shining with curiosity.
I kneel in front of him, so his gaze has to drop down to meet my eyes. “It’s all for you.” I run my fingers through his rough fur. “Eat.”
His eyes dart toward the food.
“Are you thirsty?”
When he gives me a hesitant nod, I rise and walk to the sink, where I find a large bowl. The sound of chewing makes my heart soar. After filling the bowl, I set it down beside the plate, only to find he’s already finished the joint.
“You must have been hungry!”
The hound gazes up at me, his eyes pleading.
“Alright,” I say with a chuckle. “There’s plenty more.”
For the next few minutes, I go through the stores, taking bits of everything suitable for a dog. Steak, liver, even raw eggs. The hound eats with gusto, seeming to have a bottomless stomach. I make a mental note to take a few supplies from the apothecary, in case he has worms.
Standing back, I watch him eat, the backs of my eyes stinging with tears. Magical hounds are so rare, and it breaks my heart to see one that looks so famished.
No one would abandon such a handsome creature, and it looks like he’s been alone for a while. As the hound laps at the water, and idea slips into place. What if I found him for a reason? What if he was meant to be mine?
My heart swells. Being chosen by the hound would fill my life with companionship and uncomplicated love. But what if he doesn’t want to stay?
“If only you could speak,” I murmur.
He gazes up at me, his head cocked.
“It looks like nobody has given you love in a long time.”
He nods and returns to his food.
My phone buzzes again. I don’t need to check to know that Aggie is out there, ready to report me to the Council for Norbert’s cold-blooded murder.
Fuck that. I potentially have a hound who needs me. Aggie had better not stab me in the back.
“I’ve got to go.” I blow the hound a kiss. “Will you be here when I come back from work?”
