it’s frightening to be confronted with someone who sees more than we do—knows more than we do—”
Andrew shoved past her, purposely jostling her shoulder. His clean clothes were down in the car. “You’re welcome to your delusions, but leave her out of them. We want to pull her out of the madness, not encourage her in it.”
Andrew made it halfway down the stairs only to meet Craig coming up. “What in Lady’s name have you been doing up here?” he snarled. “Killing her?”
Andrew looked down at himself and realized what a picture he presented, stinking of silver-tainted blood with his shirt a crimson mess balled up in one hand. He could practically see the thought on Craig’s face: Butcher. Scents from the rest of the house filtered into his attention, fear and discomfort from the rest of the pack as well. They had chosen to hide from it instead.
“I bled out the poison.” Andrew shoved past Craig. The sooner he got his change of clothes, the sooner he could get cleaned up. He could only hope the pack calmed as the smell dissipated.
10
Empty. The snakes were dead, and though her arm throbbed, it did not burn. But everything was still so empty where her wild self should have been. Silver called for her wild self, screamed for her into the new silence that the snakes had left. It was safe for her to return. Silver sobbed, and begged, but couldn’t find even the drifting scent of her wild self on the breeze.
She found the warrior’s scent instead as she became more aware of her surroundings. Death was gone, but the warrior’s wild self had his head in her lap. He had fallen asleep while guarding her. She smiled and used her good hand to ruffle his ears. “You killed them.”
“You survived the full moons before. He should have guessed you would survive this one too,” Death complained from the entrance to the den. His voice was familiar to Silver, male and warm, but she couldn’t place it. Memories of everything before the fire were partially burned away, and those that remained were slippery when she tried to hold them.
“You’re angry because he took me from your grasp,” Silver told Death, and the warrior stirred. His tame self sat up from his slump against a tree, and reached first for her arm. He examined it, turning it this way and that. He was clumsy in his attempted gentleness, like he wasn’t quite sure how to go about it.
“The fire no longer burns,” Silver told him, gritting her teeth against the pain he caused.
He set it down, watching her face. “I think you’re healing a little faster than a human. That’s something, at least.” His eyes caught hers. “Can you shift?”
Silver broke the gaze, turning her head and biting her lip so he couldn’t see her tears. “I still can’t find my wild self. She ran too far to know it’s safe to come back now.”
“It’s up to you.” The warrior’s hand on her cheek turned her head back. His wild self licked her good hand, encouraging. “But the silver’s gone. And shifting would help you heal…”
Silver drew in a deep breath. Maybe he was right. Maybe she needed to do more than call. If she reached for her wild self, reached as far as she could for her, maybe she would be there in the dark beyond the edge of the Lady’s realm.
So Silver reached. Reached into the nothingness and strained with every ounce of her being to even brush her fingers against a hint of fur. Her muscles screamed with the effort, cramping, but she just couldn’t. Couldn’t reach, couldn’t hold on. She let go, falling short. She had failed yet again, and now the pounding ache from her arm pulsed through her abused muscles.
“Can’t,” she gasped, and fell back into more comfortable darkness.
* * *
Andrew swore at length as Silver slumped from her seizure back into unconsciousness. Going to wolf form and back should have jump-started her healing, and it had seemed logical that she would be able to shift now—but that was
Andrew shoved past her, purposely jostling her shoulder. His clean clothes were down in the car. “You’re welcome to your delusions, but leave her out of them. We want to pull her out of the madness, not encourage her in it.”
Andrew made it halfway down the stairs only to meet Craig coming up. “What in Lady’s name have you been doing up here?” he snarled. “Killing her?”
Andrew looked down at himself and realized what a picture he presented, stinking of silver-tainted blood with his shirt a crimson mess balled up in one hand. He could practically see the thought on Craig’s face: Butcher. Scents from the rest of the house filtered into his attention, fear and discomfort from the rest of the pack as well. They had chosen to hide from it instead.
“I bled out the poison.” Andrew shoved past Craig. The sooner he got his change of clothes, the sooner he could get cleaned up. He could only hope the pack calmed as the smell dissipated.
10
Empty. The snakes were dead, and though her arm throbbed, it did not burn. But everything was still so empty where her wild self should have been. Silver called for her wild self, screamed for her into the new silence that the snakes had left. It was safe for her to return. Silver sobbed, and begged, but couldn’t find even the drifting scent of her wild self on the breeze.
She found the warrior’s scent instead as she became more aware of her surroundings. Death was gone, but the warrior’s wild self had his head in her lap. He had fallen asleep while guarding her. She smiled and used her good hand to ruffle his ears. “You killed them.”
“You survived the full moons before. He should have guessed you would survive this one too,” Death complained from the entrance to the den. His voice was familiar to Silver, male and warm, but she couldn’t place it. Memories of everything before the fire were partially burned away, and those that remained were slippery when she tried to hold them.
“You’re angry because he took me from your grasp,” Silver told Death, and the warrior stirred. His tame self sat up from his slump against a tree, and reached first for her arm. He examined it, turning it this way and that. He was clumsy in his attempted gentleness, like he wasn’t quite sure how to go about it.
“The fire no longer burns,” Silver told him, gritting her teeth against the pain he caused.
He set it down, watching her face. “I think you’re healing a little faster than a human. That’s something, at least.” His eyes caught hers. “Can you shift?”
Silver broke the gaze, turning her head and biting her lip so he couldn’t see her tears. “I still can’t find my wild self. She ran too far to know it’s safe to come back now.”
“It’s up to you.” The warrior’s hand on her cheek turned her head back. His wild self licked her good hand, encouraging. “But the silver’s gone. And shifting would help you heal…”
Silver drew in a deep breath. Maybe he was right. Maybe she needed to do more than call. If she reached for her wild self, reached as far as she could for her, maybe she would be there in the dark beyond the edge of the Lady’s realm.
So Silver reached. Reached into the nothingness and strained with every ounce of her being to even brush her fingers against a hint of fur. Her muscles screamed with the effort, cramping, but she just couldn’t. Couldn’t reach, couldn’t hold on. She let go, falling short. She had failed yet again, and now the pounding ache from her arm pulsed through her abused muscles.
“Can’t,” she gasped, and fell back into more comfortable darkness.
* * *
Andrew swore at length as Silver slumped from her seizure back into unconsciousness. Going to wolf form and back should have jump-started her healing, and it had seemed logical that she would be able to shift now—but that was
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