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A weak, achy part of myself wanted to break position and commandeer one of those overladen platters. I would eat my fill and share with Zetas. I would reward her loyalty and connection for coming with me to this mortal den where wolves were not welcome.

My heart pinched with worry for Salak.

Would he care that Zetas had followed me?

Would he expect both of us to go back?

A Nhil girl with long black hair gathered into a simple braid down her back appeared from a lupic farther away. In her arms squirmed a creature I instantly recognised.

My heart clenched. “Natim.”

The name slipped from my lips, making its way to the tiny fawn who wriggled with vicious determination to get free. The girl grunted as his hooves kicked and barely managed to put him down before she dropped him.

Natim shook away her touch, then bounded and frolicked toward me, bleating and attempting a stag’s grunting bay.

Zetas huffed and I swear she rolled her canine eyes as I bent down and scooped up the wriggling, happy fawn. He felt heavier than last time and far more leggy. His growth was happening so quickly. I laughed as he reached up to lick my chin, his tongue smooth and warm. Cupping him around the middle, I looked down at the round handful of his stomach.

Someone fed him...

“Tiptu gave him a cup of milk.” The girl who I’d seen sitting beside Runa the night I’d spied came closer. Her steps were hesitant and eyes wary on the ever-feathering shadows by my feet.

Swallowing hard, she forced a smile. “Once he’d drunk the milk, he still seemed hungry. So we, me and Hyath, cooked some grain, crushed some grass, and mixed it into a warm paste.” She grinned as Natim licked my cheek again, fondness for the fawn glowing despite her guardedness toward me. “He loved it a bit too much. I think we probably overfed him but at least he has a full belly and will rest easy tonight.”

Slowly, I put the fawn back on the ground. He sprang and leaped toward Zetas, rearing up in her face, attempting to lick her snout even as the large wolf raised her horned head to keep her muzzle out of reach.

Undeterred, Natim headbutted her in the knee, pressing himself between her front legs and disappearing under her fluffy belly.

Zetas huffed as if she was well used to annoying wolflings.

“I’m Niya.” The girl smiled carefully. “And you must be the stranger that Girl...I mean, Runa, told me about.”

I studied her.

I committed to memory the darkness of her warm eyes, the glossiness of her black hair, and the richness of her ebony skin.

She was pretty.

She seemed to possess a kind heart.

Yet she wasn’t Runa.

My patience threatened to snap; my teeth clenched ever tighter.

That the fractured light inside me was steadily fading deeper into darkness the longer we were apart.

My eyes returned to the closed lupic.

My hand locked around my stolen spear.

And Zetas nudged Natim to corral him against us, protecting the fawn all while keeping her fierce attention exactly where I kept mine.

Niya glanced at the fawn, understanding that she wouldn’t be getting him back.

“He’s safe,” I grunted. “You may go.”

An awkward moment of silence fell before she sniffed and rubbed her arms. “Okay, I’ll just...leave him with you, then.” Nodding once, she added, “I know you’re worried, but she’ll wake soon. You’ll see. It’s almost dusk and—”

A cat’s cry tore apart her words, sounding distraught and terrified.

The lynx.

Syn.

She’d never cry like that unless...

Runa—

My feet shifted of their own accord, rushing toward the lupic.

The guards slashed their spears together, creating an X, blocking me from getting any closer. “They are waking. Stay back.”

“Move!” I bellowed, my shadows rising up like nightmarish wings behind me.

Tral came running from where he’d been helping with the feast. “Darro...patience.”

I breathed hard, my chest straining and the wolf pelt around my hips stifling. I itched all over as if my shadows were moments away from shredding my mortal flesh.

Another female moan and a man’s grunt.

Lowering my jaw, I glowered at the chief. “Let me pass. I won’t ask again.”

Tral flinched as he listened to the wracking coughs and stilted sounds of discomfort inside. The guards watched me carefully, their knuckles white on their crossed spears.

Tral’s head cocked as low hums of voices replaced the sounds of pain. He dared smile as if things were exactly as they should be. “They’re almost coherent.”

“I want to see her.” My desire to run in there and snatch Runa into my arms made me quake on the spot. I wanted to smack the smile off the chief’s face.

Another cough sounded, followed by the happy yip of the lynx.

I moved closer, not caring the guards brought up their heavy sticks this time, ready to pummel me.

Tral’s large hand landed on my shoulder, yanking me back and squeezing with authority. “Move any closer, Darro, and I’ll have my entire hoard of hunters surround you. Runa is safe. You will see her soon.” His fingers dug into the hardened muscle around my shoulder socket. “There’s one more thing that must be done before they step back into our clan, so continue to be patient, for just a little longer.”

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