Red and Her Wolf (16 page)

Her breathing grew shallow, slow, as if she feared moving or in any way distracting him from talking.

Continuing to toy with the soft flesh between her thumb and finger, he talked. “They agreed to bleed off the darkness.
All of them, even the Black
Malvena
.
The night of the purification ritual, they all gathered beneath a large moon on a grassy plain. But
Malvena
dinna
come.”

“Why?” she whispered.

He looked at the tree, absently noting the rough texture of the gingerbread bark. His stomach groaned
,
gut twisted in knots with hunger. “Because two days prior, her daughter Rose had died and a seed
was
born in that dark heart.
Reanimation.
Bringing the dead back to life.”

“Isn’t that forbidden?”

“Aye.
It is. And the only way to do it is to use dark sorcery. But on her own, she is nay strong enough. The other nine
dinna
bother with her, they proceeded on with the purification and dumped their darkness within the land.”

Her eyes looked sad and haunted. “That’s when I was born. I wasn’t born of light at all. I’m evil.”

He grasped her chin, not allowing her to break eye contact with him. “I killed, maimed, and tortured. I’m a wolf. Not born to be evil, and yet, I was.”

Red glanced away and he sighed.

“Just because
yer
born a certain way,
doesna
mean that is who ye are.”

“Maybe it does.” She pulled her hand back and jerked his thumb off her chin. “Why have you brought me to the witch’s woods?”

What should he say?
Yer
aunt told me to come here so that ye can kill the witch by sucking out her soul?
But I swear to
ya
,
yer
nay evil,
lassie
. Bloody hell, he hated the fairies at this moment.

“Tell me the truth, please. I can handle it. I just can’t handle anymore lies.”

Bathed in moonlight, she looked ethereal and lovely. Maybe this was how he’d get her to trust him, truth at all cost, even if the telling of it pained him to do so.

“She called
ye
a soul sucker.”

Her face scrunched.
“A what?”

Ewan shrugged. “I don’t know, Red. That was all she said.”

“So I suck out souls? That’s my magic?”

“One of.”

Grabbing her stomach, she leaned forward. “I think I’m
gonna
be sick.” Her face looked splotchy and pale. “I only thought I could heal. Jana told me I couldn’t do magic. I never…”

“She lied, about everything. Jana was a wicked, evil woman.
Doona
try and make sense of anything ye knew before, especially when the truth is so much different.

“Also…” he rubbed her head, tucking her hair behind her face in case she expelled the meager contents of her stomach. “
If
yer
going to puke, try not to puke on the candy.
Ye might alert the witch to our presence.”

“What?” She laughed, and instantly the sickly pallor on her face lightened. “Oh gods, this isn’t funny. None of this is.”

Then she laughed even harder, the musical tinkle of her melodic voice made his lips twitch in return. It took a moment for her to get herself under control.

“Thanks, Ewan, I needed that.”

Everything inside him stopped. She’d used his name, but this time it’d sounded hopeful, alive, and the sound of it was almost as good as tender caress. Heat nestled in his gut, filled his loins. He scooted back, hiding the evidence of his desire, knowing she wasn’t ready for him yet. Nudity never bothered him, it simply was the way of the wolf, but he wished for some clothing now, if only to make her comfortable.

He nodded. “Are ye tired, Red?”

She nodded.
“A little.
I didn’t sleep much last night.”

“Neither did
I
.” His lips tightened, trying to forget the reason why. “I don’t smell the witch, we’re safe to stay here tonight, rest while ye can. I’ll keep watch.”

“Okay.” Glancing around, she spotted a thick cluster of gumdrop leaves and settled upon it.

Planting his hands behind his back, he listened to the eerie night. There was nothing save for the gentle breeze, her soft inhalations, and the steady gurgle of the chocolate stream in the distance.

Enough time passed he’d thought her asleep, when she said, “I’m scared.”

Her face was covered in shadow, her red dress looking like a sea of blood upon the ground.

“I know.
Me too.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve waited so long to know ye, the thought of losing
ye
now is more than I can bear.”

She didn’t answer, and he didn’t think she would. Maybe he shouldn’t have said it, but truth at all costs…

“Are ye going to try to kill
yerself
again, Red?”

A second ticked by, then another, until finally she shook her head. “I’m sorry for that. I didn’t really want to kill
myself,
I knew I would heal from that wound. I didn’t actually cut my vein, just cut deep enough to make it bleed really
bad
.” She sighed. “I wanted to hurt you.”

“Don’t do it again,” he gnashed his teeth, letting the pain leak out, letting her hear the depths of his plea.

She didn’t say anything, but their gazes locked and he knew she understood. Her lashes gave the barest flicker before she turned and rolled onto her side. Eventually she fell asleep, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Several hours later he noticed her shivering, drawing her legs up to her body and wrapping the dress tighter around herself.

Calling the
unbecoming
, he got up and trotted to her side. Scooting in as close to her body as he could, he shared his wolf’s warmth with her. She sighed, her fingers ran through his pelt and his body trembled.

***

“I don’t like this place,” Red grumbled as she knelt by the thick viscous stream. “There’s no water to wash myself with. Nothing but this chocolate I cannot even touch.”

He grinned. “I
donna
think this place was created for the likes of us.”

She glared at him, her blond brows drawn into a fierce scowl. “Food everywhere and I can’t even have a bite. I hate sweets, and right now I think I could gobble an entire tree.” She stared at a gingerbread elm longingly.

Grabbing her hand, he helped her stand. “Trust me, lass, ye
dinna
want what the witch has to offer. All is not what it seems.”

She curled her lips, huffing, and dusting sparkling bits of sugar off her luscious rear. “I’m hungry and irritable. Let’s go find this stupid witch, before I forget myself and dive head first into that chocolate river.”

Red stood there, staring down at the stream with a sad, pitiful expression. She’d barely eaten the day before, only picking at her food. Ewan wanted to provide for her, but to do so would mean backtracking, which he could not do.

“C’mon, Red,” he tugged on her finger. “
Doona
look. Walk away.”

Sighing, she turned her back on the stream and he gave her a swift tilt of his lips. Calling the
becoming
, Ewan quickly switched forms. They resumed walking, Red within the forest itself. She seemed possessed with a natural instinct to shy away from being easily spotted. Preferring to traipse through the rougher terrain, so as not to be exposed to the elements of the unprotected trail he walked on.

Not that he didn’t want to join her,
but he sensed keeping his distance for a while might help her better acclimate to not only her strange surroundings, but also him. Ewan wanted to ravish her, take her, drive into her and roar to the heavens that she was his mate. It wasn’t easy controlling his baser instincts.

Huffing, he attempted to appear nonchalant. Tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, looking like little more than a stupid dog that had wandered down the wrong path. His size was a dead giveaway that he was definitely
not
a dog, but he hoped the act would keep the witch from immediately going on the offensive once she spotted him.

He knew Red was supposed to be the one to take the witch on, but it was ingrained in him to at least help ease his mate’s way into the battle. Give Red a little time to study the witch before the witch noticed her.

Hopefully.

The closer they got, the faster his heart pumped. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, she was so small and the physical scars of her encounter with the other wolf hadn’t fully vanished yet. Faint and pink, bisecting her belly and breasts, he couldn’t help noticing them the night he’d pressed the stone of
veritas
(truth) to her chest.

Red’s stare was wide and panicked, her pupils dilated. Even in the shade of the trees, he could see her pulse beating frantically upon her pale throat. Forcing
a calm
he did not feel, he shook his head and pressed on, giving her no choice but to follow. If he pretended all was well, maybe she’d panic less.

Before long a gingerbread house crested the horizon, a faint plume of gray smoke undulated like a charmed snake through the air.

The home itself was a cornucopia of treats, an enticement to come and gorge and feast upon. It all nauseated him. He’d not be sad to see the crone dead.

Suddenly he realized Red did not pace him. He stopped and spotted her several yards back, gripping the trunk of a gingerbread tree with a white knuckled grip.

She looked at him. “I… I can’t.”

He whined, and jerked his head toward the candy studded home. The chimney, made up of big, fat gumdrops--a bright brilliant red--shimmered like rubies in the sunlight.

“No.” She turned her face into the tree. “I don’t know what to do.”

He huffed, knowing this would not be her first kill.

She scowled. “No doubt you’re thinking about that wolf I killed. Well, it was easy because in my mind it was you. But…” she swallowed hard, “it’s all different now.”

Dropping his shoulders, he sat. Miriam had said it was hate of him that had fueled her power. He knew what he’d have to do.
Though the thought pierced his heart with thorns.

“I… don’t know if I hate you anymore. I’m not sure I like you, but…” She blinked. “Ewan?” she cried, finally noticing that he’d begun to barrel toward her. Her eyes were large, round, and filled with terror.

He ran, powerful leg muscles, bringing him to her in less than a second. The growl tripping from his throat was the deep throaty inflection of a wolf on the hunt.

Hating to see the fear in her eyes, he willed himself to ignore it. If killing the crone would help her kill
Malvena
, he didn’t have a choice.

A white ring surrounded her lips and her breathing grew harsh, she pressed her back against the tree. He advanced, predatory.
Menacing.
Hackles raised and gums exposed. Her breaths were short and choppy.

Then he jumped and she screamed, throwing her hands over her face and glancing to the side.

Ewan sank his teeth into the thick branch beside her head, ripping out a chunk of gingerbread. It settled like rotten meal in his gullet. He knew what these woods were really made of.

A cackle erupted, chilling and foreboding, and then a door slammed open.

“Come here, my pretty,” the ancient voice beguiled, wrapping a breeze like hand around his throat and squeezing hard. The power of the crone, deep and darkly disturbing rushed through his veins, slammed into his skull. He winced against the mind numbing moment of terror.

She was still in the house, but she knew they were here.

Dark clouds gathered high above them.

Her terrible magic was strong. Even he suffered the urge to run away from the cannibal crone.

Red jerked, holding onto her chest. She glanced at the house, then at him. Dangling bits of gingerbread caught in his fur.