7. Chapter 7 #2
He glances down at his attire and shrugs.
“There was a two-for-one on deadly weapons this morning,” he says.
“And considering how my favorite dagger has mysteriously gone missing,” he adds, his gaze drifting onto the stolen dagger, which is lying in a pile of leaves by my feet, “I thought that I deserved a little treat.”
Right. About that.
To my equal dismay and disbelief, the beast shrugs off my hand and approaches Augustine slowly, taking a quick whiff of his newfound baldrics.
I hold my breath and wait for it to eat him, almost giddy over the thought.
But first, I quickly snatch up the dagger in the event that the beast turns to me next.
And then—wait a second. As I look back over at them, the beast is letting out a soft whine at Augustine’s feet and wagging its tail happily.
“Hello Void,” Augustine says, scratching the beast behind its ear. “Is your new friend here being nice to you?”
“Of course I’m being nice!” I say, my heart thundering chaotically as I glance around at the other wolves. They all watch me from the shadows, silent and assessing, as if they’re waiting for me to throw them more fish… or they’re waiting to eat me. It’s hard to tell.
Augustine snorts. “I find that rather hard to believe. Stealing is not nice, and yet here you are, looking as if you’re about to stab me with my own dagger.
” He eyes me up and down, his gaze pausing on the blade in my hand.
“You know, you really don’t have the proper equipment to carry that thing.
Perhaps you should give it back to me before you poke someone’s eye out. ”
I look down at the dagger and frown. The last thing I want to do is give this man his weapon back, especially being that he already has so many, and I’m unarmed without it.
I clench it tighter and snarl. “Lying is not nice of you either, Augustine. And yet, not once did you mention these wolves are your acquaintances. Or that you knew their names.”
“I wasn’t lying,” Augustine says before letting out a sharp whistle. “I simply withheld the truth.”
I freeze as he whistles again. “What are you doing?”
“Calling for your mount. What else would I be doing?” he asks, his eyes brimming with mischief. I swear, this man is trying to give me an aneurysm.
“My what?”
One of the wolves breaks through the clearing and bounds toward him, stopping only once she reaches his side.
She comes up to his shoulder in height, her coat the color of pale moonlight, her eyes flashing indigo and violet.
Her beauty deluges me in a catharsis of fabricated daydreams, causing me to nearly lose track of reality.
This can’t be happening.
“If you’re worried about Hades, he’ll be fine,” Augustine says, looking to the forest. “I leave him here all the time. He seems to rather enjoy the peace and quiet. Plus, the rest of the wolves will protect him.” He motions toward the pack.
“Now, are you ready?” He looks at me expectantly, as if I’m not currently reeling from the information overload.
“S… so we were never in danger to begin with,” I sputter out, my words coming out mangled in my throat. “When… when you told me that you’d protect me while I slept…”
“Not in the slightest. Now climb on,” he says, motioning toward the wolf.
“I’m supposed to ride on her?” I ask, staring at the beast currently panting beneath Augustine’s relaxed arm. Augustine nods.
“Fyra is the most graceful wolf of the pack,” he explains, running his hand through her soft fur.
“She’s also my quickest runner aside from Void, who is mine.
And I’m not trading, so don’t even think about asking.
” He motions over his shoulder toward the alpha male standing behind him, the one who had originally greeted me.
“Yours?” I breathe out. “These wolves are really yours?”
Augustine shrugs.
“I can’t—” I croak, my words failing me.
“Are you really going to tell Fyra no?” he asks.
“Of course I am,” I protest, my lungs feeling hollow and empty.
In fact, if I exasperate for another second more, I might just become airborne.
“You literally made it seem like they’d eat the flesh clean off my bones without hesitation!
” I remind him. “Why would I willingly ride on one?” The white wolf named Fyra blinks at me, and I hold up my hands to add, “No offense.”
Augustine gives me a light-hearted, teasing grin—one so adorable, it makes me want to rip out his throat so he never does it again.
“I never claimed all of them would eat the flesh clean off your bones,” he says, backtracking.
“Some of them might appreciate your affinity for throwing fish. After all, you’re quite good at it.
” He holds out his hand and waggles his fingers.
“But first, give me the dagger so you don’t accidentally hurt Fyra. ”
I consider what he’s asking of me for a long second, every muscle in my body tensing at the thought of handing over the weapon.
But he’s right. If I’m going to ride on this beautiful creature, I can’t risk harming her.
And I can’t exactly say no. Not if I ever want to find Solara.
Who, by the way, has disappeared again. “Fine,” I relent, holding it out to him.
He swipes it from my grasp and tucks it into one of his sheathes.
Then he mounts Void with an effortless swing of his powerful leg, settling onto the creature’s back comfortably before saying, “Well? Are you coming? Or are you going to throw a hissy fit like you did when you first met Hades?”
I stammer. I curse. I grip onto Fyra’s soft fur as terror curdles through my belly.
What if this wolf eats me alive?
To my blatant disbelief, Fyra only blinks at me with her lavender eyes as she lets out a soft whine and then drops to the forest floor at my feet.
I loosen a sigh and climb onto her back, only to realize that her thick fur feels as familiar as a cherished childhood blanket against my flushed cheek.
I know this creature from somewhere, don’t I?
Once I’m settled and ready, Augustine gives me an approving nod. “Good. Now just give two short bursts of a whistle to indicate to Fyra that you’re ready to go.”
“I can’t whistle.” I press my lips together as proof.
“Well, that is quite unfortunate. You can’t control the wolves without learning how to whistle.” Augustine tilts his head toward the sky and sighs, as if tallying up another thing I am incapable of doing. Then he lets out a sharp whistle on my behalf, and our wolves take off running.