Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 140462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
I shudder, nodding as his palms slide up and down my back, giving me comfort I haven’t earned, but which I’ll gladly accept. “As long as you’re safe. It would kill me if I hurt you.”
“I understand, but I’ll be safe. Especially now that I know what to watch out for.” He gets up, fists clenched with new determination. “Is it agitating for you to change into the Sunwolf?”
I shake my head, following him to my feet. “No, it’s actually soothing, more body for all the heat inside me. I think. Or it’s just trying to entice me into that form by making it feel good.”
Sylvan nods. “I’m only asking, because our travel will be much quicker that way, and we can’t waste time. We will go back to the werewolf castle. Remember the dungeon? It has access to a cold stream where they handled frenzied werewolves. You will have water but remain away from the dangers of the ocean.”
I want to protest, but as our gazes meet and I focus on the dark blue galaxies shimmering in his eyes, I give up on arguing. He’s right. The castle is not that far, and maybe there is in fact something that could help me? I need Sylvan to be safe, but I don’t want to give up on myself either. I didn’t survive six almost-deaths to do that.
“All right.”
I allow the sunlight within me to expand, and shift into the Sunwolf as he’s asked. The relief is instant, but deep down I know it’s a slippery slope that will lead me to losing myself. For now, I just focus on the fact that I will be able to keep Sylvan warm on the way.
“If it worked on feral werewolves, it might work for you,” Sylvan says while I’m speeding up. “No one can track you down in the dungeon.”
After five years in prison, that sounds dreadful, but if the thick walls keep me from hurting my lovely prince, I’ll take it.
Chapter 35
Hawk
Itry not to think about the future. That’s what always kept me going when things went sideways, but while the form of the Sunwolf lets my thoughts clear, each passing second feels like a step toward the inevitable. My senses sharpen, detecting sounds, smells, and flavors I’ve never before noticed, but even with the abundance of animals in the forest, I feel like the most delicious morsel of all is on my back.
Sylvan’s shadow is faint, pale, and smooth like whipped cream with just the right amount of sugar and spice that’s so uniquely him. A tiny snack, really, when compared to the magnitude of the shadow making up Tristan Bloodweed’s wings, but I want it all the same. Its touch makes my skin tingle, and I long for its essence in the blood pumping through my husband’s small form.
It scares me how easily I can imagine myself diving my muzzle into his open rib cage, and lapping its insides as if it were a cup of yogurt, not the body of the man who I—
A frantic yelp leaves my throat as I shake off the image my mangled brain sees as both horrifying and enticing. He’s not safe with me. Not the way I am now.
“It’s all right, my love. We’re almost there,” Sylvan says, unaware of the dangerous thoughts crowding my mind. I try to remember each time he speaks to me this way. It makes me feel like I’m truly special, someone worthy of being chosen, and I let it be my comfort.
Would he run from me if he knew? Or would he have stayed despite it? I'd rather not test that in what might be our last hours together.
I wouldn’t call the castle ‘familiar’, but at least it’s a place I already know. We explored it a little last night, so we know that it’s abandoned.
Then again, tonight, it might become my home, and a place of doom for any elf foolish enough to cross the threshold. I dread to think about spending the rest of my life stuck in yet another prison, but it’s the loneliness of it that truly terrifies me. If my consciousness isn’t consumed by the Sunwolf, then I might go mad because of the isolation. I’ve never been someone who likes spending a lot of time on his own. Even if I’m not talking all the time, I long for touch and company.
Another thought hits me as I transform in front of the gate.
“If you lock me in there, what will I eat?”
Sylvan strokes my hand and pulls me in. “As the Sunwolf, you will not need to eat material food.”
I want to whine and complain that I like to eat material food, but hearing that is the last burden Sylvan needs.
I dash inside the castle, and then down two flights of dusty stairs. We were down here last night, but the huge circular door facing us now was the limit of our exploration. My vision is quite decent even now, but the swamplight flickering to life inside a lamp attached to the wall reveals the deep grooves marking the huge entrance. It’s an artwork—a depiction of wolf men dancing under the moon.