When his throat was raw from screaming, he let himself slump forward and covered his face with his hands, for once, instead of his mask.
“Almighty, what have I done?” His chest heaved with a dry sob. “Gah! What have I done?”
My sins against You have become too great a burden.
The dagger beside him gleamed red in the dying sunlight, and he fingered the blade, considering driving it through his own heart in payment for his guilt. He’d tried to kill his friend. Not a wolf, a woman. An innocent one, who’d saved his life. Had she known all along who he was? How else could she have known to put his seal on her collar? She’d graciously let him keep his anonymity, protected him, guided him, kept him warm. Who was she? And how could he have been so damn blind? Heaping guilt on top of guilt until there was no going back.
A low growl sounded off to his left, and he froze, terrified that he would turn and face Red. When the growl came again, he realized the tone was all wrong. He glanced to the side and spotted a normal gray wolf hunkered in the grass, eyeing him. It looked small compared to Red, and he almost laughed at it. Then a thought occurred to him. He grabbed Ormand’s dagger, his only weapon at the moment, and sat waiting.
The wolf yapped at him, edging closer. It must smell the blood on him. He stayed still, not moving until it sprang. He caught it by the throat, mid-leap, and ran the dagger through its ribs. The same place he’d stabbed Red.
The animal yelped and jumped back. It ran, but not far. Aaro followed, giving it time to die before he drew near. Without ceremony he gutted it, cut its heart free, and pulled it out.
“Not so sure I deserve life more than you did,” he muttered. “But if the Almighty saw fit to send you, then I thank you for your sacrifice. It’s always innocent blood that covers the sins of the guilty. Guess because ours isn’t worth anything anymore.” He snorted.
He went back to where he’d been sitting and replaced his mask, smearing wolf’s blood across it, then headed back to Ormand with the dripping heart in his hand.
* * * * *
Alonso met him at the gate, and led him, without a word, back to Ormand’s hall.
“Did you know who she was?” Aaro asked.
The captain merely shook his head, his lips pressed flat, dark eyebrows drawn together. All he said was, “The king asked if I recognized you when you had your mask off. He still doesn’t know who you are.”
He didn’t try to take the dagger from Aaro before they came into the presence of the king. None of them did.
Ormand broke into a sly smile when Aaro threw the wolf’s heart down at his feet. He held the bloody dagger out to him, hilt-first, and trembling only slightly. Ormand stared at him for a long moment.
“Wise choice,” he said finally as he took the dagger and handed it off to one of the guards to clean. “What took you so long?”
“She was strong. She ran farther than I expected. And I didn’t hurry.”
“Your next mission then,” Ormand said, settling onto his carved wooden throne, inlaid with silver. “You’re going east. Kill King Heymish. It’s high time for my brother to die.”
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Quench the Day (Red Wolf Trilogy Book 1) Page 25