by S A McClure
“Oh!” she gasped. “It’s you.”
In the dim light filtering through the trees, she could see the blood pooling from a wound just above his right ear. He whimpered as she gingerly touched the area to assess how much damage there actually was.
“I’m so sorry,” she said as she stroked the wolf’s matted fur.
He didn’t respond. Instead, he just looked at her, his hazel eyes glowing slightly in the darkness. Her mouth went dry as his eyes grew brighter and narrowed.
“Are you alright?” she asked. Her voice shook. She gently moved her hand near the wound. Hot blood seeped from the gash on his head.
He jerked away from her and snarled. Emma clutched her hand to her chest.
“I’m just trying to help you,” she cried.
The wolf snarled again and then began rubbing his wound in the snow.
“I’m so sorry,” Emmaleigh whispered as she inched towards him.
She stretched her hand out, palm up. He sniffed at her. His glowing eyes narrowed slightly before he licked her. His tongue was rough on her skin and his moist, hot breath made her squirm slightly, but she didn’t pull back.
“Will you let me examine the wound?” she asked.
The wolf pulled away from her, his eyes going wide.
She sighed and held out her hand again.
He blinked at her, then yawned widely and licked his muzzle. It was strange to her that only a few days ago she would have thought nothing of taking down a wolf of his size and stature. She had killed many wolves on her hunt for food and pelts.
“Do you know where my sister is, Mr. Wolf?” she whispered.
The wolf only stared at her in response. She sighed, her shoulders slumping. The old hag could have sent her sister anywhere. Worse, she could have kept Iris in the cabin to inflict a different kind of torture. She cringed at the thought. She needed a plan. She needed some way to find her sister. She needed...
In the distance, a lone wolf howled mournfully. The sorrowful sound was joined by a chorus of others.
Emma jolted and a flash of blue light streamed through her chest in a tiny ribbon. It wavered as she took a step back.
“What the—” she murmured as she looked over her shoulder to see where the light was coming from. There was only darkness behind her.
She whipped her head back towards the sound of the wolves’ chorus. There it was.
The wavering blue light stretched through the darkness.
Mr. Wolf sniffed at the air, his head still oozing blood. The blue light cast an eerie glow to this face, making him appear as one of the demons Grandmother Rel had told them stories about when they’d been children. Emmaleigh shivered as she regarded the wolf.
He dipped his head, as if hearing her thoughts of horror, and padded over to her. His hot, wet breath blew across her hand as she fought against the tiny voice inside her screaming at her to flee.
He’s my friend, she reminded herself. He saved me. I have nothing to fear.
She patted him softly on the head. His soft, warm fur eased her sense of discomfort. She smiled down at him.
“What would you say this is?” she asked, waving a hand through the wavering light. It flickered, as if it could wink out at any moment.
He looked at the light seemingly emanating from her chest and out into the wilderness. His sniffed at air and aimed his nose in the same direction as the light. Before she had a chance to say or do anything, he bolted into the darkness, following the stream of light.
She stood there, dumbfounded.
There really was only one thing to do.
She followed him and the flickering beam of light.
Chapter Eleven
Iris
Ravens cawed as they swarmed around Iris. The night sky was encased in mist so thick she could only see the vague, blurry outline of her hand in front of her face. The dreamworld pulsed around her. Its energy was cold and urgent against her mind. She gasped as the air was sucked from her lungs in a gust of wind.
Gooseflesh prickled her skin as she plummeted through the darkness before landing on a soft moss. Familiar trees bowed overhead. She had been here before.
Starlight crept through the dresses, glinting off the midnight black dress that clung to her body, accentuating her curves.
“Hello?” she called into the mist as the sound of the ravens abruptly stopped.
The mist swirled. It transformed from a white-grey to a glittering purple-black.
“Grandmother?”
Her voice came out plaintive. It dripped with the fear swelling within her. The mist pulsed, moving up and down as if it were breathing. It coalesced into the shimmering, dark shape of a man.
Iris gasped.
“You came back,” he said huskily.
Her heart skipped a beat. Although she had only heard his voice once before, she knew she would never be able to forget it. The sister moons poured light in from above just as he stepped into the small clearing.
He was still the loveliest man she had ever seen.
He still stole her thoughts and her breath.
He still made her heart beat erratically in her chest.
He seemed to float towards her. Just like before, he wore only a thin pair of cotton trousers. His bronzed skin was covered in dark tattoos. Iris found herself wanting to trace their outlines, to discover each and every shape he had permanently emblazoned on his skin.
He smiled at her.
She smiled at him.
“I did,” she finally whispered. Her voice hiccupped and she felt herself blush.
He didn’t seem to notice or care. He cupped her cheek in his hand and trailed tiny circles across her face. His skin was warm and surprisingly soft. She smiled up at him.
“Are you really here?” he asked, one side of his mouth turning into a small frown. He looked so unsure of himself.
“I am,” she replied, leaning into his touch.
He released a sigh, his warm breath rushing past her. His ice-blue eyes fluttered slightly as he leaned down and pressed his forehead against hers.
“I’ve been dreaming of you.”
His words sent a thrill through Iris. She didn’t have much experience with men. Well, really, she had no experience with them, if she were being honest with herself. She didn’t know if every one of them would make her stomach coil and her heart beat so erratically like this one did.
She doubted it.
“What happens in your dream?” she found herself asking.
“That we escape this place together,” he responded in a rush.
“Escape?” she asked, surprised. This dreamlike world seemed so perfect.
He lifted her face towards his and pressed his lips to hers. It happened so quickly Iris didn’t have time to stop him. The kiss was tentative at first. Gentle.
She wrapped her fingers in his hair and drew him closer.
He wrapped his muscled arms about her shoulders and tugged her against his body. His kisses became fervent. Insistent.
There was no space between their bodies. His kiss pulled her in. She felt the way she had when she and Emma had snuck a bottle of Grandmother’s homebrewed wine from the cellar and drank the entire bottle in a single night. Her head became light and her thoughts hazy.
All there was the sense of his lips on hers.
He wrapped around her.
He protected her.
When he pulled away for air, Iris was dizzy and lightheaded. She strained to remember what it was she was supposed to be doing, but couldn’t seem to come up with any ideas.
“You’re really here,” he whispered again. He pressed his lips into her hair. “You’re really here.”
There was a catch in his voice that made her disentangle herself from his grasp.
“How long have you been here?” she asked. She didn’t exactly know why this question seemed important. He’d given no indication that he had been here longer than she had. There was just a nagging voice in the back of her mind telling her to
find the answer.
His eyes took on the blank, confused look they had the last time Iris had visited this place in her dreams. His lips opened and then shut again, like a fish gulping for air.
She placed her hand on his cheek, drawing his attention back to her. His eyes slowly lost their milky film and a smile spread across his face. He peered down at her.
“I always knew you’d come,” he whispered.
He bent towards her once more.
Although she hungered to feel the heat of him upon her again, to feel the gentleness of his soft lips on hers, she knew she couldn’t let him do that. Not when it would mean getting sucked into the space where they weren’t talking to one another. There was too much she needed to know.
“What’s your name?” she asked as she shifted her hands to his chest and gently pushed him back.
Hurt and confusion filled his eyes.
“My name?” he asked.
Iris raised one eyebrow.
Doesn’t he know his own name?
“What are you called?” she tried again.
His eyes narrowed. “Nothing.”
She dropped her hand from his cheek, breaking their connection. The loss of warmth left her hungry for more, but she knew if she let herself reform the connection, she might not ever be able to get the information she needed.
“Where did you grow up? Who are your parents?” she demanded.
He stared down at his hands, his face placid. His eyes swerved from side-to-side so quickly that she couldn’t believe he wasn’t getting dizzy. His entire body began to shake.
She stepped away from him. She didn’t know how to help him. Maybe if she were home and had access to her potions, but not here. Not in these mysterious, strange woods with the starbugs twinkling in the sky and ravens soaring through the trees.
She didn’t want to leave him this way, though. She couldn’t.
“It’s alright,” she cooed, inching towards him.
He began foaming at the mouth.
Forgetting her earlier reservations about touching him again, she threw herself at him. She wrapped her arms tight around his body. His heart thumped erratically in his chest as leaned her head against him. She ran her hands up and down his back, whispering soft words to him.
Hot drops of water dripped on her arms.
She hadn’t realized that she was crying, but she was. They fell on her head and she realized that he was crying, too.
“It's alright,” she whispered, lifting her head to gaze into his eyes. They were rimmed in red. “I’m here. I’m here. I’m here.”
The mantra worked.
She felt the frantic thudding of his heart become slower, more rhythmic. His muscles loosened and his shoulders sagged as if the tension he had been carrying there had suddenly been released. He breathed in deeply, his chest rising to meet her upturned cheek. He held that breath for several seconds before releasing in a long, consistent stream of warm air.
“You’re here,” he whispered.
“I’m here,” she responded.
She didn’t know what had happened to him to make him this broken. She didn’t know if she would ever be able to fix him. She didn’t know if he could be fixed. But she would be damned if she wasn’t going to try.
“Liam.”
The word tore through her thoughts, bringing her back to the present moment. She sucked in a breath as she met his gaze.
“My name is Liam,” he said.
And then he smiled at her so brightly Iris found herself smiling right back at him. The more time they spent together, the more he seemed to remember. What else would he remember if she continued to visit him? She was determined to find out.
Chapter Twelve
Emmaleigh
Emmaleigh tore through the trees at a rapid pace. The wolves’ howls had increased both in number and in volume. She was getting closer, but she was terrified of what she would find. There was no way her sister would be able to fend off that many of them. Iris wasn’t a fighter like she was. Sure, her sister was intelligent and strong. But she wasn’t a fighter.
Mr. Wolf kept pace with her, even with his wound still oozing blood. Every time she looked at him, a pang of guilt swept through her. She hadn’t intended to harm him. She wouldn’t have blamed him if he had chosen to desert her.
But he hadn’t.
There he was, panting beside her as they raced through the trees.
The flickering blue light winked out just as Emma passed through a row of thick trees. She flung out her arms as she brought herself to a stop.
At least a dozen wolves stood at the ledge of a steep ravine. Their heads were tilted back, crooning at the sister moons and stars.
She sank back into the trees, praying the wolves had not heard or smelled her.
As she watched, three of them paced across the lip of the ravine. They moved through the shadows like the predators they were.
She cursed under her breath. If she had had her bow, she would have been able to mitigate this issue with ease and silence.
As it was, she wasn’t convinced that she would be able to take on all twelve of the wolves at once. Some of them were so massive, she doubted her makeshift spear would hold under their mass.
She glanced down at the wolf beside her. His hackles were raised, and he glared at the pack before them. His canines were bared, his snout wrinkled with what Emma could only describe as fury.
Clearly, he had met this particular pack before.
She nudged him with her boot and he silently snarled at her. There was so much hatred in his eyes when he peered up at her that Emma almost audibly gasped.
She backed away from him. Away from the pack beyond the line of trees.
She wasn’t sure if she were relieved for frightened when Mr. Wolf followed her.
When she determined that they were safe distance from the pack, she bent down and whispered in her companion’s ear.
“I’m not sure what they did to you, but, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from growing up in the old hag’s house, it’s that when magical things happen, you pay attention to the signs.”
Emma hated herself for bringing up any wisdom Grandmother Rel had taught her. It left a sour taste in her mouth.
She knew wolves didn’t have eyebrows, but if they did, she could imagine he was raising one at her with the expression he gave her.
She shrugged. “I just think that it’s worth investigating, don’t you?”
He bared his teeth again.
“I know. I know,” she said, holding up her hands. “It’s going to be dangerous. I just can’t shake the feeling that Iris is close by. Why else would that fancy blue light have brought us here?”
The wolf snorted, but sat back on his haunches, as if to say that he wasn’t happy about it, but that he agreed.
Emma smiled at him.
“Good,” she said. She sat cross-legged across from him and wiped away the ice, snow, and other debris from a small section of ground. Using a twig, she began drawing out her plans. Mr. Wolf snarled a few times and used his paw to smear out a few of her ideas. She cocked an eyebrow at him. She was determined to discover his secrets.
When, at last, they had decided on a course of action, Emma rose from the ground and brushed the snow from her butt. She gripped the spear in her hand as she re-envisioned what she was about to do.
Her lips set into a thin, hard line, she crept towards the pack.
Emma watched as Mr. Wolf raced out from the trees and leapt on the wolf closest to them. He bit into the wolf’s neck before it had time to scream. A spray of blood erupted from the wound, coating the wolf next to him. He dropped the limp body into the snow and moved onto the next one.
The large, bronze colored wolf leapt high into the air, releasing a different kind of yelp. Several pairs of gleaming yellow eyes turned in the direction of Mr. Wolf and the bronze wolf as they wrestled in the snow.
Never before had Emma heard such vicious cries as the sounds from the two
wolves fighting each other. The pack formed a circle around the two. They snapped at them, forcing them to remain in the middle of the circle.
Emma found herself clutching at her chest. She gasped when the bronze wolf pinned Mr. Wolf and bit down on his shoulder.
This was the distraction they’d agreed upon. Every time she’d tried to add in an element of her rescuing him, he’d wiped the plan clean. Every. Single. Time.
It was almost as if he had a death wish.
Keeping to the shadows, she inched her way around the tree line until she was peering into the ravine.
Her heart skipped a beat. There, fluttering in the winter wind, was one of Iris’s hair ribbons.
She almost screamed her name.
Almost.
But she didn’t. Not with Mr. Wolf still fighting behind her. She began the descent down the steep hill.
She stumbled, her feet catching on upturned roots and large rocks. Her face cracked from the cold. Her breath came in puffs of misty air. Her heart hammered so loudly in her chest that all other sound was drowned out.
All she could focus on was placing one foot in front of the next.
Find Iris. Find Iris. Find Iris!
Branches were snapped and the snow and ice were crumpled beneath a massive weight. Emma followed the tracks.
Paw prints were preserved in the ice covering the ground.
That could only mean one thing—her sister was being hunted.
She could only pray to the Creators that she arrived there first. She had wasted too much time developing a plan. She had let herself hesitate when she should have acted.
In her heart, she’d known at the first baleful sound of the wolf’s howl that it was a signal her sister had been found—just not by her.
And now, her sister was most likely dead.
If—and that was a big if—she had survived the tumble down the ravine, there was no way the wolves hadn’t killed her on sight.
Emma cursed as she bent down and found one of her sister’s slippers. It was coated in blood.
Still warm.
Despite the cold, the blood was warm.
It was all the confirmation she needed. Her sister had still been alive. Maybe she still was.