Night Born

by Godiva Glenn

  “That’s fine. Get a head start,” Sierra called.

  I need to find someone—anyone else. Dashing with only desperation as her guide, Kyra thanked the ancestors to have more than human speed and thanked Sierra for being foolish enough to allow her a chance to escape.

  A silver blur tackled Kyra from the front, and she and the unknown wolf spun and rolled over dirt and roots. Pain split a cry from her throat and tears came streaming to follow. Fangs ripped past the plush fabric of her sweater, sinking into her left arm. The wolf held tight, poised to tear flesh from bone. Sierra’s taunting laugh echoed while Kyra fought the wild creature holding her down.

  “Stop!” she screamed. “I’m pack!”

  If the wolf recognized her words, she couldn’t tell. Either this wolf was truly new as Sierra had boasted, or it was a friend feigning ignorance. Black spots crowded Kyra’s vision. The shredded mess of her arm was released, and she curled into a ball, hugging the ruined limb close. The scent of her blood coated the air, thick and fresh, making her gag.

  A strong arm lifted her off the ground and threw her against a tree. Her tingling legs threatened to give way, but she forced herself to remain upright. Through blurred vision, she watched Sierra approach.

  Kyra pressed against the tree for support and met Sierra’s maniacal glare. Refusing to surrender, she lashed out with her uninjured hand, only to be met with a sensation of numbing heat across her midsection. She stumbled back, and looking down, saw dark red. For a second, she cursed herself for leaving her stomach exposed as if a few inches of shirt would have protected her from Sierra’s wrath.

  No, if anything was at fault it wasn’t Kyra’s vanity. She tried to remain upright while holding herself together. Her fingers slid through the crimson mess. Everything felt wet, and the smell of something stronger than simple blood shocked her system.

  To think I actually pitied her. The forest floor swam up and carried her down. In the agonizing pain, she couldn’t even tell if she cried or screamed or if her voice was lost. The two silver wolves circled her now, magnificent forms lit by the moon sneaking through the dense trees. Fuck, the poetic injustice. Her last sight before dying would be the one that hurt the most.

  The pain crept through her body until every inch of her flesh felt the stabbing heat until even her hair seemed to feel it, and her vision grew dark.

  Vibrations traveled along the dirt she sprawled upon, a sudden intrusion to her body resting in the dirt. A massive ebony wolf bounded from nowhere and caught one of the silver wolves by the neck, tossing it aside like a pup. The sleek dark form then turned and snapped at the other advancing silver wolf. Kyra’s eyes closed, and her own wolf stirred, but she couldn’t focus enough to grasp it. Yelps and snarls danced around her, soon becoming nothing but distant buzzing in her ears. Every inch of her flashed from pain to cold.

  Ancestors take me.

  THREE

  Floorboards creaked near Kyra’s head, and she opened her eyes to find Mikos. He sat cross-legged beside her, and she tried to look around to see where she was. The throbbing pain in her neck stopped her, however.

  All she could tell was that she was on the floor in a room she’d never seen before. Her body woke now, sharp aches traveling through her muscles. She didn’t know how she’d gotten here but flashbacks of being attacked assailed her and made her shake.

  The memory of being bloody and dying mixed with the ghost of relief. She was alive somehow. The dark wolf. Mikos.

  She could barely process how to act. He saved me. Holding her breath, she closed her eyes and attempted to wiggle her fingers. Though she couldn’t see them, she knew they moved. And I didn’t lose my arm.

  “You’re welcome,” Mikos said.

  Tilting her head enough to see his face, Kyra glared. Anger trickled through, though she wasn’t sure why. He’d saved her. He’d brought her somewhere presumably safe. But shouldn’t he have said something else upon her waking? Maybe asked how she was doing? Or even simply said good morning? But is it even morning? It was hard to tell from her position.

  Licking her lips, she tried to understand why her mouth felt like she’d been eating cotton and her throat was sore and scratchy. She groaned and fell back to the pillow on the hardwood floor, every movement exhausting and too difficult to bear. The pathetic sack of flattened feathers beneath her head barely offered comfort.

  “Where are we?” she asked his knee through chapped lips.

  “You were too injured to leave alone. I almost thought to take you to a hospital but—”

  “I’d rather die,” she finished.

  It was unheard of for a lupine to rely on human medicines and care. They healed on their own. Of course, she lacked that sort of ability. She was stronger than a human, but he was right. If she were left alone to heal, she’d have died.

  “Lupine pride,” he commented.

  “Yeah.” But she’d spoken automatically, and that wasn’t entirely how she felt. It was too confusing. “How am I here?”

  She envisioned him dragging her along the forest floor, but it didn’t seem plausible. She’d have bled out, not to mention she’d be impaled with hundreds of twigs.

  “I was able to return to my lupine form long enough to carry you away.”

  Her lips parted, unable to mask her surprise of such a feat. She knew Mikos was strong, but she’d never heard of any lupine pulling out of their wolves voluntarily. It was supposed to be impossible. Yet he mentioned it so casually, without any hint of ego. She didn’t know what to say to that.

  He cleared his throat. “Aside from sleeping two days straight, you’re healing much better than we’d imagined. The biggest danger has passed.”

  Two days? Wait, who was we? “Where are we?” Mikos shared a small house with Viktor but she’d never been inside. “This doesn’t seem like your home.”

  “You’re right. We’re at my grandparent’s cabin.”

  She searched her memories. Ross and Thea. Far to the East of their land then, on the border. She’d met them before. His grandfather, Ross, was on his last legs, and it was typical for the elderly to distance themselves when nearing death. At least that’s what the story was.

  Kyra always thought it was strange since Ross and Thea couldn’t have been that old. She guessed they were in their seventies, tops. Most lupine stayed close to the pack well into their eighties if not nineties. They lived long lives and the years didn’t slow them down as easily as the same years would affect humans.

  Out loud, she’d never questioned Mikos’s family since it wasn’t her place, but now her curiosity was reawakening. Furthermore, she couldn’t fathom why Mikos would bring her all the way out here. Surely it would have been easier for him to have carried her to her own place, after all. They were miles and miles from the pack center.

  Using her uninjured hand, she massaged a kink in her neck. “Are they around?”

  “Out currently. Gathering more roots and herbs for salve.”

  Groaning, she rolled onto her back. Her abdomen protested, the skin feeling tight as if splitting. She breathed deep and slow until the pain subsided. The blanket felt heavy against her, even though it was little more than a sheet.

  Am I naked? The awareness startled her, but it made sense that they would have taken her clothing to check her wounds. Not like they could have left her in her bloody jeans and a torn sweater. With a grimace, she used her right arm to leverage her weight and forced herself to sit upright.

  “Thank you.” A wave of dizziness took her, but she ignored it and looked around the room, seeking the exit. Dark spots swam across her vision. “Get me something to wear and I’ll get out of your way then.”

  “What?”

  She shuffled under the thin blanket covering her, legs shaky and unable to find the proper angle to stand. “I can recover at my place.”

  “You’re too weak,” he reasoned and placed a hand on her shoulder to hold her still.

  “Thank you,” she said harshly. “Thank you for
kicking me when I’m already down. I’d forgotten how generous you could be.”

  “Damnit, Kyra! I meant you’re too weak to try to walk home because of your injuries. You nearly died. You don’t have to prove anything to me by bleeding out in the forest now.”

  “I’m not trying to prove anything.” She shrugged away from his touch. As before, it came at the wrong time. “I want to be alone.”

  “That’s not going to help you get better.” He produced a covered plate from behind his back and held it out to her. Underneath the paper towel was a heap of scrambled eggs and sausage links. “This will, though.”

  The smell of food chased away her foul mood and caused her stomach to rumble loud enough to echo.

  “Oh,” she nearly moaned, mouthwatering. She reached for the plate and winced to see the bandages covering her left arm from bicep to wrist.

  He nudged the plate into her right hand instead and took hold of the injured limb. “No sign of infection. It took a while to get the dirt out of the wound, but luckily this bite was only meant to hold you. Barely any meat was taken, but the area was worried to shit.”

  He spoke calmly and with a matter-of-fact air, but tension creased around his eyes. Their kind didn’t scar easily, but since she was cursed, she suspected not only would she forever bear the shameful attack mark but that it would hinder her strength. He didn’t have to say it aloud.

  She could move her fingers, but would she be able to lift things? Would she recover completely? She shoveled a scoop of eggs into her mouth using her bare hand. What does it even matter? Once I leave the pack no one will care about my weak arms.

  She continued to eat in silence. Once her plate was empty, he took it and stared down at it, expression blank. She had endless questions for him but didn’t want to ask him anything. There was a dark valley between where they were now and where they once were. Admiring him at a distance was easier than being this close, particularly in her current situation of being powerless.

  Even talking to him was strange, as if they’d never done it before. Funny how everything changes when one of you is completely vulnerable.

  Somewhere in the house, a door banged shut. Mikos glanced over his shoulder, presumably at a door he blocked from her vision.

  The swears of his grandmother carried through the house. Old words of an old tongue. He rose and stood in the doorway while Kyra adjusted the blanket around herself to a sudden chill in the air.

  “Mikos!” Thea called down the hall. “Is the eparatos moving yet?”

  * * * *

  Between meals and salve and excessive sleep, the day had quickly sped by. She got to see Mikos every few hours, and even though he didn’t say much his presence helped to lift her spirits.

  At first, she had tried to ignore her circumstances, to try and stifle the memory of the attack, but she couldn’t avoid the inevitable. Life would go on, and she had to know what was going on outside the room she was confined to. He was with her now, and there was no time like the present.

  Searching Mikos’s face, she swallowed a bite of toast and set the bread down on her plate. “Why did you bring me here?”

  “I thought it would be the most logical place. Thea is the best healer in the pack,” Mikos replied. “She knows every healing plant in this region.”

  “This far out?” She couldn’t bring herself to ask directly, but the frustration in his eyes spoke volumes. They were in this cabin because clearly, her own parents wouldn’t take care of her, even if her injuries were caused wrongfully. He’d brought her far from the pack because none of them would look after her. Perhaps they’d encourage him to let her die.

  “Shouldn’t I return?” she asked. A dark thought circled upward. “Or is it not safe?”

  “Eat,” he replied.

  His tone made her think back to when they were young, and he was teaching her how to be a proper lupine. It raised her heckles.

  “That’s all you ever do. Tell me to eat. Change my bandages. Make sure I can hobble to the bathroom. I’m not a child,” she hissed. Her growling stomach betrayed her, however, and she broke off another piece of toast and shoved it into her mouth.

  His dark eyes focused on his hands as they carefully wrapped her wounded arm. “The council will take care of Sierra. She cited the old ways as her reasoning, but it won’t stand.”

  Kyra choked and had to swallow several times before she could speak. “Old law? On what grounds?”

  Mikos shook his head and released her arm before rubbing his palms on his thighs. His reaction showed his annoyance, but she wanted an honest answer.

  “Tell me.”

  “She claimed you were fair game for being an invalid. She spoke of the times when wolves that endangered the pack were culled.”

  “We haven’t done that in decades. And besides, I don’t endanger anyone,” Kyra replied. On top of that, to take such an action in her lupine form was an insult to their entire pack. But what do I know about it?

  “She believes you hold too much emotional sway over the pack’s actions. She cited my prolonged search for a mate as an example.”

  Kyra stared at her plate; appetite gone as quickly as it had appeared. She whispered though she wasn’t sure why the words needed to be low, “You did the honorable thing. It’s rare, but there have been cases of the wolf rising later in life.”

  “Some of the pack seem to forget that. They are quick to proclaim a curse,” he agreed.

  She wanted to scream at him. He’d turned his back just the same as the rest of them, even if he had taken the path that would allow her more time to contact her wolf. The argument fell apart before it could reach her lips. Despite the past, he was helping her now. And she realized that he was the only one who would.

  By his actions and presence, even the conflicting way he spoke, she wanted to believe that Mikos still cared for her. He had always been noble, but this went beyond courtesy. Or I hit my head too hard and it’s affecting my logic.

  “It’s not safe for me to go home,” she said aloud. “It’s like we’ve slipped back in time and forgotten the years we’ve spent progressing.”

  “That’s not true. You’re out here because it’s best for you,” he disagreed.

  “And how long will I be out here? Hiding?”

  He took her plate and stood, not answering. The door clicked closed behind him, sealing her in with her thoughts. She wrapped her blanket tight around her and missed the comfort of home. She wished she had something familiar with her, something that could stave the anxiousness of being alone in a strange place.

  Blood had ruined everything except her shoes, so she had nothing more than a borrowed shirt for now. The large blue flannel was something Mikos had left in the cabin. Apparently, he visited enough to have left random articles behind over time. Lucky for her, since Thea was hard-pressed to donate much for Kyra to borrow.

  Lucky again because if she held the collar close to her nose, she could inhale his scent, and it helped to calm her nerves if only momentarily. Regardless of if she was frustrated with him, or angry, or confused, the familiar spice of his skin was like portable home. He was pack.

  She had to fight herself from seeing her situation as a chance to somehow win him over. There would always be a part of her desperate for his approval, but right now she had to focus on getting better. She needed to get well and return home. Then she could worry about getting Mikos’s attention.

  FOUR

  Kyra wandered the small room, touching knickknacks piled in corners. Common hospitality would have dictated that an injured guest have a bed somewhere, but it seemed fitting that she would be on the floor in a dusty storage room. At least she warranted a pillow, horrible as it was.

  Her borrowed socks slid on the wood floor, so she’d put on her shoes. She’d found a pair of sweatpants in one of the dressers and donned them, too. Resting was boring. She’d dressed without thinking. Escape wasn’t exactly on her mind, but she certainly wanted to leave and head home.

&nb
sp; Her hand twitched, followed by a full body shiver. The twinges of pain tended to give her odd chills. She pulled the oversized flannel she wore tight against her. Mikos had told her it was too early to stand unassisted, but she didn’t care. The sooner she was able to walk away, the better. If she held her breath it tended to stifle the pain and dizziness.

  From down the hall, voices carried. Thea and Mikos. He was being quiet, not wanting his words to float to Kyra, but his grandmother was content to let each insult wind through the house directly to Kyra’s ears. She ignored them. There was nothing that could be said that would be new to her. Instead, she focused on her injuries.

  The bandage across her midsection was taped tight and tugged with every movement, but she didn’t want to see what lay beneath—not just yet. Curiosity had won for her arm, however, and she’d loosened the wrap and cast it aside. Though not a pretty sight, the wound wasn’t as gruesome as she’d expected. Puckered red skin, black stitches.

  Flashbacks of the silver wolf assailed her. The agony and fear. Flexing her hand and making a fist, she winced at the sharp ache that traveled across her forearm. A low creak snaked through the room as the door opened behind her.

  “You should keep that covered,” a quiet voice intoned. “And you shouldn’t be moving around.”

  Mikos’s grandfather, Ross, moved through the room. He carried a steaming mug and set in on the table near her then slid it towards her hand.

  “For the pain. To help you sleep,” he said simply, passing Kyra to dig through a drawer. She watched him silently, in case he’d get upset if she dared speak to him. He was what the younger pack referred to as part of the old guard. A wise wolf, a former elder, and very spoken-out about traditions and the true ways. She could only guess that he viewed her as garbage.

  Small patches of silver ran through his deep brown hair, hinting his age but as she’d thought, he wasn’t that old. There was no hunch to his stance, no shuffle to his step. Whatever his reason for being secluded, it wasn’t related to his health.