Wolf's Bane (Monstrous Hearts #2)

Chapter Twelve

Ah, see how the girl appears so silent and sure while walking through the woods? See how the black wolf lopes nearby—sometimes bounding ahead and sometimes circling back to her side, night-dew on his fur and nose keen. The stars have gone. The sky grows grey with coming dawn. It's time to return home.

The wolf's path steadies, gains purpose. The girl's feet remain light, finding purchase against the tangled ferns and fallen, moss-covered branches that would have left her hesitant in the near past. The air between the massive tree trunks is still dark, still untouched by the weak light, but her steps falter only when the wolf growls in warning. His ears prick toward the violent shaking of branches ahead of them, toward a shape emerging from the gloom of the forest.

The girl sees the spread of antlers and hears the snort of breath. She recognizes the hulking form, and ducks behind the nearest tree even with the black wolf's teeth between her and it. It's a buck, aggressive from being in rut and ready to attack anything that isn't the doe it seeks. The girl knows enough to understand the danger of a creature driven mad by its instincts—stay still and the buck will slash and gore. Run and it will chase and trample. Even now, faced with the black wolf's slavering jaws, the buck lowers its antlers and shakes them in threat.

But the wolf only sneezes a laugh before beginning his hunt, dodging those sharp points of bone and snapping at the side of the buck to lure it in the opposite direction of the girl. A rake of teeth drives the deer's frustration into fury, and hooves just miss the wolf's ribs. The wolf circles away only to lunge back in, biting the meat of a back leg and letting go when the buck twists to slash at those painful teeth.

It's a test to see which is more nimble, more deadly: wicked antlers or savage jaws. Hooves rip up the ground from the force of each charge. Teeth snatch at convulsing muscle and release it just as quickly. The buck soon spins in a circle with every bite, desperate to gore the shadow that always slips just out of reach.

The girl holds her breath each time the deer slashes, fear mixing with a dark thrill as its antlers cut through only air. If the wolf is hurt, she'll be left defenseless against the enraged buck, and yet that fact isn't what leaves her heart racing. There's something pure in this brutality, and an ugly honesty can be found in these two beasts fighting each other. Life spills to the ground as blood, shows itself in muscle trembling with power and growing exhaustion. To watch them is to remember that her own heart is simple, struggling flesh.

Finally, the buck stumbles from one too many bites to its back legs. As quick as a thought, the wolf lunges for that thick throat, using all his weight to throw the deer off-balance. Even the girl can smell blood and the reek of fear in the air. The buck falls in a heap of heaving muscle and flailing hooves. It rises just as quickly, eyes wild while trying to shake free.

The wolf lets go and circles out of reach, paws light on the ground as he searches for another chance at a bite. But the buck turns and flees, sides heaving for breath as it bounds out of sight. The wolf doesn't follow, and his tongue lolls in laughter instead of weariness as the forest falls quiet once more.

When the girl steps out from the cover of the tree, he lopes over, yellow eyes flashing. Blood stains his muzzle, but she crouches without fear and runs hands over his thick fur while he pants. He takes her fussing with some grace, letting her see for herself that he's uninjured before changing form.

She looks up at the man standing before her, the sunlight now strong enough to burnish his hair and skin until they appear gold. Her heart lurches strangely, but she smiles at him and means it.

Yes, see how the girl remains at ease, her hands already stripping her clothes away while he watches and licks the blood from his mouth. Perhaps it is only the light of the rising sun that gives her eyes such a feral look. Perhaps not...