by Debra Dunbar
“Yes. You are. And I am as well. Even though I expected to be taking a wild canine to my side, I am bound by the agreement. As are you. You extended the offer. I simply accepted it. If anyone should be upset, it should be me for having been deceived into believing I was saving a dog. But it was my fault for not recognizing what you are or knowing the creatures here well enough to see that you were not a dog after all. I’m sure there was no deception intended on your part.”
She’d said the words with a generous and forgiving spirit, but he seemed even more angry at her speech.
“That’s not how things are done in here in America. I’m very grateful that you healed me, or whatever you did to keep me from dying, but that doesn’t obligate me in any way. I’m not yours. I belong to no one beyond my pack and my Alpha. If you want to submit a claim for services rendered to my insurance company, feel free to do so.” He stirred, obviously trying to rise to his feet.
She put her hands on his chest, pushing him gently downward. “No. No. You will bleed again. The magic needs time to seal your wounds. I don’t want to upset you further. We will discuss this later, after you have healed completely. Just rest now. I will give you something to help you sleep if you need.”
He glanced down at her hands, his breath hitching. His heart pounded against her hands.
“No, I don’t need…” He shook his head, then pulled away from her touch. “Don’t…I mean, how long have I been unconscious? My pack will think I’m dead. I need to get back to them, to warn the about the hunters. Do you have a satellite phone? Radio?”
Of course he would want to leave. She’d thought the Goddess had sent her an animal companion, then she’d briefly envisioned a human, or wolf-man, companion, but he had friends, family. He wouldn’t want to stay here. And she wouldn’t want to leave. That was going to be a problem, but she could hardly hold him against his will.
“You were wolf for five suns. If you rest, you will heal completely within four more suns, and then you can leave my home.”
He blinked, a puzzled frown creasing his brow. “I can leave? I can go back to my home, my pack?”
“You are not my prisoner, not my slave. I must insist that you not leave until you are healed to the point that you can make the journey. It wouldn’t be safe for you to travel in your condition. And I can better protect you here in my sanctuary. Here it is safe. There is no foul magic, no hunters with poisoned bullets. You can rest and heal and not fear being shot again.”
“But my pack…”
“They will worry, but wouldn’t they rather have you return to them healthy and whole after your absence? They would not want you to collapse in the mountains somewhere and die trying to struggle home.”
His eyes met hers, pupils dilated, silver sparks lighting up the green with an inhuman glow. “Yes. You’re right. I’ll stay.”
He sounded so reluctant that she felt a bit hurt. “Is it so terrible to remain here for a few additional days? I will make sure you heal completely, as quickly as possible. And when you are able to go outside we will walk among the trees, and you will see the beautiful home I’ve created.”
Home? Or was this really her prison? No, home. Because to think otherwise would lead her to think about all the things she could no longer have—things like the family and friends that this wolf was eager to reclaim. She didn’t blame him. If she could, she’d go home as well.
“Only a few days. I have a pack that depends on me. I have friends and family that are looking for me. I cannot…stay.” He pulled his eyes away, lids heavy as he sank back down to the blanket.
They were bound. Distance would only hurt them both. She could enchant him and hold him here. He’d be happy—deliriously happy. She could weave her magic around him, guaranteeing he’d never leave, never betray her. But that would make her a monster. She’d made many mistakes in her life, but she’d never been a monster.
“Only a few days. As I said, you are not my prisoner, not my slave. I only ask that you wait until you are fully healed from your injuries before returning to your pack.”
He’d attribute the discomfort to lingering issues from his injuries. She’d suffer worse, but part of that was because she could feel the threads between them. Maybe he’d be back someday, a friend to help keep the loneliness at bay.
“But I thought… You said I was yours and something about us being bound together.”
“Not like a rope, bind. Not mine as in ownership.” Gwylla pursed her lips, thinking of the best way to explain the magic in terms this wolf-man would understand. “We will long to be in each other’s presence, to assist each other, to keep each other safe. I have committed to ensuring your survival for the rest of your natural life. I am bound to you and you to me. If there is trouble that threatens you, I must protect you. If there is someone who wishes you dead, I will…kill them.”
“Whoa whoa whoa.” The wolf-man went to put his hands up, then winced and lowered them. “Seriously. I completely appreciate you saving my life and all that, but you don’t owe me anything further. And you certainly don’t need to appear out of the ether and fireball anyone who gets pissed at me over…whatever.”
“I cannot create fireballs. There are other ways I can protect you, though.”
He shook his head. “I don’t need protecting. Thank you, but I’ll be fine. I appreciate your continued hospitality, but in a few days, once I’m able to, I’ll leave and return to my pack.”
He didn’t understand. That was okay, the elves hadn’t really understood either. Gwylla felt a wave of loneliness wash through her. This wasn’t what she’d ever expected her life would be when she left Aerie for Hel.
But that wasn’t his problem, it was hers. So instead of burdening him further, she smiled and placed a gentle hand against his shoulder. “Then rest. I will have food for you when you awaken, and with my continued care, you will soon be able to return to your pack.”
His eyes drifted closed and she watched him a moment, admiring the way his brown hair curled across his forehead, the way his lips curved up as he slept. He wasn’t what she would consider a handsome man, but his features were intriguing. And she liked him. She admired his determination, his commitment to his pack-family. She liked his humor, and the way his eyes darkened when he felt strong emotion.
She hoped that someday he would return to see her, because of all the beings she’d met in the last few decades, this wolf-man already seemed like a friend. And right now, Gwylla could truly use a friend.
Chapter 5
By the time the wolf-man opened his eyes once more, the room smelled of fresh-baked bread, squash soup, and berry cobbler. It was also hotter than she would normally have liked her home, but even with an extra blanket, she’d noticed her patient shivering.
“Stay,” she ordered when he began to move. “Food first, then we’ll talk.”
“Sounds good to me. My stomach feels like it’s trying to eat itself. Is that bread you’re baking? You make bread? Well, of course you do. It’s not like you’re going to pop down to Foodland for a loaf of Sunbeam or something.”
Clearly the wolf-man was not understanding the “talk later” part of her command. “Yes, I made bread. You haven’t eaten since I found you, so tonight will be soup, bread, and if you are feeling up to it, berry cobbler.”
“Oh, I am definitely up for some cobbler. Do you have ice cream? Probably not, since I don’t see a refrigerator.”
She ladled the soup into a huge bowl and tore off a slab of warm bread, slathering it with butter. “Frozen cream? I was going to just pour the cream on top, but I can freeze it if you like.”
“Ice cream is cream with sugar that’s been churned as it freezes until it’s the consistency of snow. But cream on top is just fine. Anything is just fine. I’m about ready to gnaw on your table leg here.”
“Be patient. Do not eat my furniture. I promise I have made enough for a dozen wolf-men.” She smiled and set the tray of food in front of him. “Here. I’ll help you up.�
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She dropped down beside him and let him lean on her as he sat up, then she pulled the tray forward.
“Sorry. I’m not used to being too weak to sit up by myself,” he told her, extending a shaky hand for the carved, wooden soup spoon.
She reached a hand forward to help, then drew it back, letting him manage by himself. He ended up with almost as much soup spilled on the tray as in his mouth, but that was no matter as long as he felt some measure of self-sufficiency.
“More?”
He nodded, tearing into the bread like a man who hadn’t eaten…well, who hadn’t eaten for five days. He ate nearly two loaves of bread, and she refilled his soup bowl three times before he leaned back against the pillows and sighed. The last bowl, his hand had been steady, and she could already see the strength returning to his limbs. His natural healing ability was amazing. She had no doubt he’d make a complete recovery within the next two to three days.
And then he’d be gone. And she’d be alone. But that was her life now, and she’d best grow accustomed to it.
“Let’s start this again, without all the binding/ownership stuff,” he said as she gathered up the dishes. “I’m Dustin. I’m a werewolf with the Swift River Pack.”
“I am pleased to meet you, Dustin, who is a wolf-man. Can you tell me how you ended up shot with magical bullets and dying next to my heart-tree in my sanctuary?”
He smiled, his dark green-brown eyes dancing. “Why, I would be happy to, Gwylla. I was heading back from a flight that returned two members of the Denali wolf pack home when I saw an overturned truck and someone signaling for help. I landed, and when I approached to render assistance, they shot me.”
She turned, nearly dropping the bowl she was cleaning. “They just shot you? They lured you in, preyed upon your helpful nature, and then shot you?”
This was unforgivable. Attempted murder right outside her sanctuary. She refused to think that such a cancer was widespread among the humans. No, these were bad people who needed to be exterminated. But it wasn’t her place to do so. This wasn’t her world. These weren’t her people.
But Dustin was hers. And if that didn’t give her enough of an excuse to deliver some much needed justice, then there was the fact that she knew this magic. In a way, she was responsible. She couldn’t hide here in her sanctuary forever, no matter what she’d intended when she came here to lick her wounds and heal herself. Instead of frightening, somehow the thought was liberating.
The hole inside her was still raw, but if it hadn’t healed by now, it never would. It was past time for her to learn to just live with the ache and find some purpose. Righting this wrong was a noble purpose.
She turned to him, feeling as if she were about to make a vow. “After I assist you to heal to full health, you will return to your pack and I will track these hunters and kill them.” She would also kill the one responsible, no matter how much she disliked the idea of coming face to face with him ever again.
“There’s a whole lot of killing with you, isn’t there?” The wolf-man’s voice held a note of amusement. Irony? He didn’t exactly approve, but he didn’t exactly disapprove either. She got the impression he found her statement humorous.
“Not always. We are generally a peaceful people, except when threatened. We are the light, the sun and the blossoming of life. We are the snow and the cold and the dreams of the dark. We are the seasons, the elements of the world, the dust of the cosmos.”
He blinked. “Very poetic. I’ve never met an elf before. Are you all so…interesting?”
He thought her an elf? Although that was probably not surprising. Her kind didn’t make a practice of revealing themselves to humans. If he’d never met an elf, he wouldn’t have any basis for comparison. And they did both have pointy ears.
“I am not an elf. I’m a sidhe, people of the hill. We are a race of fae, the Tuatha de Danann.”
“Aren’t they the same? I mean, pointy ears, healing abilities, lived in Hel?”
She scooped the warm cobbler into two bowls, then pulled the jug of cream from a bowl of ice. “No, we are not the same. We are as different as the wolf and the coyote in your world. Similar, but different.”
He stirred, interest and confusion in his face. “So you all live in Hel with the elves? Are the sidhe coming here to live as well?”
Frozen cream with sugar. Hmmm, honey would not work properly. Did she have any beet or cane sugar left?
“No, the sidhe live with all the other fae in Aerie. I am the only one who was in Hel and who came here with them. And I will most likely be the only sidhe ever to come here in your lifetime. We seldom venture out of Aerie.”
He stared at her, fascinated. “Your English is very good. Did you learn it from the human slaves in Hel? How long have you been here?”
Now this was a better, less dangerous, topic of conversation. Gwylla pulled a packet of sugar she’d been saving for something special and poured it into a bowl with the cream.
“I left Hel just over four of your months ago. Sidhe absorb languages. I can go anywhere in your world and be able to communicate. Given a few days of contact, I will know your slang, idioms, and regional dialects as well. I did absorb some of your languages from the humans in Hel, although I was not often in contact with them. Not enough to recognize all of your words.”
“I’m completely jealous of that skill. And your clothing? I mean, I really expected you in gossamer jewel-toned silk robes or something, not jeans and a tank top.”
She laughed, bringing the bowls over. “I was told they came from a place called Old Navy. I like the human clothes. They’re different and unusual. Would you prefer me to dress like this?”
Sweeping a hand across her body, the human clothing vanished, replaced with something more in keeping with the elven or sidhe courts. It was transparent silk, the lightest green with gold threads, and it wrapped around her body, hugging her slim curves and leaving very little to the imagination.
Dustin stared, open-mouthed, his eyes darkening. “I…oh, wow. It’s like Playboy, Dungeons and Dragons edition.”
“Is that a good thing?” She sat down beside him, leaning over to pull the bowls closer. She noticed his eyes glued to her chest at the movement.
“Oh yeah. You should dress like this all the time. Screw Old Navy.”
She hid a smile. “Now, pay attention. Well, pay attention to what I’m doing and not my body parts. I’m going to try to make this ice cream, but I need you to tell me when it’s the right consistency.”
“Ice cream. Yep. Paying attention.” He dragged his gaze from her chest and stared at the cream and sugar mixture. Setting the bowl in her lap, she frosted the sides, keeping the temperature consistent as she stirred.
“Holy… You don’t have a sister back at the castle with a white streak in her red hair, do you?”
“I have no siblings. Is there a reason you ask? Do you have a preference for women with red hair?” The thought bothered her that he might not think she was attractive. Well, clearly he thought she was attractive from the way he was ogling her body, but she’d not considered that he might prefer someone different, more curvy, more…human. Or a wolf-woman. Did he have a consort back in his pack? She didn’t sense any consort bonds, but perhaps they did things differently here.
“No. It was a movie reference. A joke, because you’re using magic to freeze the bowl. I actually like blonds.” He added the last bit as if he couldn’t help himself, his eyes wandering back to her chest.
“Good. Pay attention, Dustin,” she scolded, secretly flattered. “I don’t want to over freeze the cream.”
“Sorry. It’s done. Can I go back to looking at your boobs now?”
The laugh bubbled up inside her. She hadn’t experienced such light-hearted fun in…well in a very long time. “Yes, you can go back to looking at my boobs. See? I have now learned a new word, thank you very much.”
She scooped the ice cream on top of the cobbler and handed him a bowl and spoon, taking
one for herself. The first taste was ecstasy—sweet and cold and creamy, countered with the warm, sharp tang of the berries and crumbly crust. “Mmmm. You wolf-people clearly know the very best sweets. I’m very fond of sweet things. I can see that I will need to visit this Foodland of yours and find out what other treats I can experience.”
“Chocolate. And there are all sorts of flavors of ice cream that you need to try. Cookie dough is my favorite. You’re going to love it.” He was resting more of his weight against the pillows, his eyes somewhat unfocused. She took the empty bowl from his hand and stood, tucking the blanket around him. He was tired, too tired to continue this conversation. Which was a pity because she hadn’t enjoyed herself this much in decades.
“I am excited to try it, especially as it is your favorite. Rest. Allow the magic to knit your flesh together and repair your wounds. When you awaken in the morning, we will talk of ice cream and chocolate some more.”
His eyelids were drooping lower, partially shielding those green irises from her view. “Thank you. I don’t think I said thank you for helping me. And I like it here. I mean, I need to go home to my pack, but it’s weirdly comforting to think about staying here. Trust me, it’s tempting. You’re very beautiful, like an ice queen from a multiplayer fantasy game. And I like that dress thing.”
She sat and watched him fall asleep, reaching out a hand to touch his brown hair and trace the roundness of his small ears. How peculiar this wolf-man was—peculiar and appealing.
And he thought her beautiful? An ice queen? A warmth stirred in her chest. Something about this wolf-man appealed to her, and it was more than just the bond that was established when she’d saved his life.
Chapter 6
Dustin woke feeling less like he was on the edge of death and more as if he’d merely been driven over by an express train. The smell of spicy stew curled around his nose and made him struggle to his knees. Nothing broke open, no blood trickled down his hip or chest. Everything ached, but the pain was manageable, especially given the siren song of food and the effect the aroma was having on his hollowed-out stomach.