His Wolf

Fifty-Three

I stood beside the lycn king, Cota, and Kara. A few yards back two lycans stood and chatted. Emory was up with the rest, keeping order within the ranks.

Tolvard and I stood facing a door that held no handle. No hinges. It was just a giant painting of a large red steel door. We circled the whole structure three times, there was no other way in. Tolvard huffed, bending down and picking up a rock.

He flung it at the painting, and it bounced back with a cracking sound. Stone hitting stone. I looked at him in question. 

He shrugged, "I wasn't going to touch it. Probably witch magic."

I glanced back over my shoulder at Cota who was standing as still as she could. But her dirt-stained hand cliched in on themselves. She met my eye and I saw that power flicker. Kara asked if she was okay, but the witch either didn't hear her or was ignoring her.

"You are the only one left," Her lips twitched down into a frown, eyebrows pinching together as if in pain, "Do you know anything about this?"

She nodded. Tolvard threw his hands up and scoffed, "Then why did you not say anything before we circled the cursed place."

"It was kind of funny to watch." Kara shrugged her shoulder, trying to ease the tension that was growing between the too. They might have made peace with one another, but it was through a deal. Tolvard still was a Lycan, and Cota's kind would always leave a bad taste in his beasts mouth. They kept the peace between them well but the tension was high. He was on edge over his daughter and his beast knew that the thing standing in our way of her was an old enemy his kind used to hunt.

"I don't remember everything that I did for him," she closed her eyes as if trying to remember making the fake door, "He asked for so much, most when I was so young, i-it runs together." She shook her head, frustrated with herself.

"It's a giant, fake, red door," Tolvard gestured to it, eyes wide in disbelief before throwing a hand in her direction, "You're a witch! Make yourself remember!"

The other two lycans that had accompanied us down the hill visibly stiffened at their king's words.

"She's a what?" one asked, his brown eyes narrowing on the girl that stood before him.

The other took a step in her direction, his jaw clenched as his canines grew, "Stand down you two, she has immunity." at the words of Tolvard they hesitated, clearly still debating on whether or not to disobey and cause whole spices to go extinct today.

Tolvard ground his teeth, a unnatural sound emitted from his throat as his beast voiced his anger and displeasure at being ignored, "If you don't scram back up that hill right now, I'm knitting your intestines into a scarf for my wife!"

The two quickly turned tail and ran back in the direction of the others.

I raised a brow at the lycan king as he watched them scurry like rats to escape his anger. "Emory doesn't seem the type to wear scarfs." He broke his gaze and looked at me, a smile replacing the snarl that graced his face.

"She's not, but I get quite chilly up in that cabin sometimes. Couldn't let the boys know that though." I laughed, not expecting anything less from this man.

After the moment had passed, I turned to ask Cota a question but found Kara was speaking to her as they both sat on the ground. I walked over to them. "What's going on?" I asked.

Kara looked up at me, shaking her head, "She's trying to remember, but," she looked back at the unusually pale face of Cota before looking back at me, "It's hurting her."

I looked down at Cota, her clothes were already mud and blood-stained, matching her skin so it was hard to tell. Her nose was bleeding, making a crimson valley through the dirt smeared on her face. Her nails sunk into the soil beneath her, hair limp and in tangles.