Chapter 22 Flashes of Images #3
Twenty-four hours ago, I’d have bet my fangs that the wolf was nothing but teeth and trauma reflexes. Just instincts, just survival. It was easier that way. Easier to think Arabesque had stripped him down to nothing. But now?
Now I knew he was more than hunger and fear. And that was worse. So much worse. Because if there was still a shred of who he’d been, then he could feel. He could remember. He could hurt.
The thought twisted in my chest, a knot I couldn’t untangle.
It was awful and yet, somehow, it was good.
I hated it. Hated how it made me feel. I wasn’t used to this mess of emotions I couldn’t control or organize or fix.
In the past two days, I’d had more inner upheaval than I had since I was a kid.
It was exhausting.
By the time I returned, Koa had fetched cookies, beers, and pretzels for us, and a plate of chicken sat on the floor as a lure for the shadow skulking behind the couch, currently unyielding.
An image flashed in my mind. Finding the pup under Seri’s curls, his body stuffed tight in a duffle bag. The best den he could make and still reach her. Still guard her.
“C’mon, Brum,” Koa called quietly. “Chicken awaits you.”
The pup sniffed, but stayed put. He was wedged so far back now that only the faint glitter of blue eyes gave him away.
Zane’s hand was a mess of blood and glass, but I’d seen worse. Much, much worse.
“Hold still.” I unlatched the med kit.
“Why bother?” He flexed his mangled hand with a grunt. “It’ll be healed in another few minutes.”
“Just let him, Z,” Koa muttered. “Before he starts sorting the shards by shapes.”
Tempting.
Instead, I grabbed the tweezers and methodically dug out bloody glass bits, then layered gauze on his knuckles, counting each loop of bandage to hold it in place. Six for the bleeding, six more for the things I couldn’t say.
“Come on, pup,” Koa murmured, his voice soft, waving a piece of chicken like a peace offering. “You’re safe. We won’t hurt you.”
The wolf didn’t budge, only let out a low whine that was more heartbreaking than any cry.
“Leave him. He’ll come out when he’s ready.” I cleaned up and closed the med kit.
Koa sighed, but dropped the chicken back on the plate.
Slouching on the couch, Zane laid his bandaged hand on his flat stomach and grabbed one of the beers with his other. Downed half of it in one swig.
“Third memory,” I said at last. “What was it?”
For a moment, he just stared at the floor. I sat down beside him, slinging an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close. Koa sat close on his other side, a solid wall of support. Zane didn’t resist. He leaned into me, his head resting against my shoulder, and took a shaky breath.
“They were in the woods.” His voice went flat, the way it does when he’s replaying memories that aren’t his.
“Seri smelled like pine needles and hope? And Brumous kept thinking about rabbits. Then—” He shuddered.
“Rogue stink. Arabesque was there with some shifter jackass, whispering sweet nothings.”
“About?”
“Brummy only understood the word crowns. You know how he knew that one? He showed me our beloved braiding one outta straw for him. Brumous said it smelled like love.”
Zane’s voice cracked at the end, and I closed my eyes as something inside my chest fell apart.
“Crowns.” Ko’s fist tightened around a throw pillow. “Regicide usually requires martyrs.”
“We all know Seri was Arabesque’s sacrificial lamb,” I muttered. “Go on, Z.”
“Seri sent Brumous back to protect someone. He couldn’t say the name, just shoved this sense of a kid at me. Newborn, maybe. Brummy felt soft and something about milk.”
“The hell? Arabesque’s got a baby locked up?” Koa scowled.
“We’ll ID the infant later. What caused the nosebleed, Z?”
He went statue-still against me. When he spoke again, each word landed like a coffin nail.
“She was crawling.”
“What?” Ko paused mid-reach for his fifth cookie.
“She was crawling. Blood smearing the moon-damned ground behind her like some fang-rotted snail trail. And she just… kept… crawling.” He fumbled his beer bottle, and I took it away, set it on the floor on my other side.
“Brummy found her. Helped her inside and up the stairs to her room. Left upper arm tore open to the bone. She tied a moon-damned washcloth around it to stop the bleeding.”
He turned his face into my chest, all six foot three of him trying to curl into me. I hugged him harder.
“He kept telling her, ‘Brummy here.’ ‘Seri strong.’ Over and over, like he was trying to make her believe it.” He swiped at his face with a furious gesture. “Fuck. Fuck!”
I didn’t know what to say. What could I say? The image of our beloved, bleeding and crawling through the dirt with only a broken dire wolf pup to help her…
Zane stayed buried in my side, his usual bravado shattered. Koa made a wounded noise as he hugged Zane’s back. And me? I was drowning. Emotions I hadn’t touched in years thrashed inside me like caged beasts. I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to breathe.
For five heartbeats, we were small boys again, huddled under one of Mom’s quilts while thunder tried to claw through the walls.
“Anyway, he snuggled up with her when she collapsed in her bed,” Zane wrapped up. “At least, I’m guessing it was her bed. He said the warm Seri den.”
“Brum show you the rogue?” Koa asked after a moment.
“Yeah, I saw the ugly mofo.”
“No name?” I frowned when he shook his head. “Maybe Seri can tell us.”
“I don’t want to ask her,” Ko grumbled.
“None of us do, but a name will get us further than a description. Assuming she can answer.” I scowled as I scratched my fingers through Zane’s mop of hair. “I’d like to ask her a few questions, anyway, just to determine which level of whisperbind it is, or even if it is a whisperbind at all.”
“Only if she’s up for it,” Z muttered into my shirt.
“Name or no name, we’re going to find that rogue, and he will pay,” Ko growled as he sat up.
“Ten times over,” I agreed. “For each drop of her blood spilled. For every second she spent crawling. Arabesque’s day is coming, but first, we’ll take her guard dog’s throat.”
My brothers nodded, and the room fell silent save for a soft whuffle as Brumous peered around the couch edge, one ear swiveling sideways, listening to something. My own ears caught it, too: Seri mumbling in her sleep before quieting again.
“Easy, Brum,” Ko murmured as the pup’s eyes darted between the chicken plate and Zane’s bandaged hand. “Nobody’s mad at you, little warrior. No one will hurt you.”
The wolf hesitated, then slunk forward, like he was testing the air for danger. His gaze again flicked between us and the plate of chicken, his nose twitching uncertainly.
I stared at him. This scrawny, scarred pup who’d been through hell and still managed to love Seri with every fiber of his being.
This creature I’d resented and wished away, not only because I was afraid his dire aggression would eventually rise to the surface, but also because he took too much of her time, her attention, her heart.
If he were the dire he should have been, he’d have ripped Seri to shreds the moment he first set eyes on her.
Instead, he’d become her baby. Her protector. Her ‘ohana. And no dire had ever shown loyalty like that. Not to anyone.
Guilt burned me, and I welcomed it. Penance for my selfishness, my arrogance. I slid onto my knees, ignoring the glass that bit through my cargo pants, punishment for each tactical error I’d made with him. He retreated half a step, then paused, nose quivering.
“Here.” I held out a chicken chunk, extending my hand slowly. The way you’d approach a trip wire. “You’ve earned this.”
Brumous crept forward, each movement telegraphing readiness to bolt. When he finally took the chicken from my hand, his careful teeth didn’t even graze my skin.
“That’s it.” I fed him another piece. “We’ll fatten you up.”
“Careful, brother. You’ll spoil him.” Koa’s knowing look prickled my neck.
“Spoiling implies he doesn’t deserve it.”
Brumous’ tail gave a tentative wag. The rasp of his tongue over my fingertips carried forgiveness I hadn’t earned.
When the last chicken piece vanished, he gripped my braid with surprising gentleness and tugged. Once. Twice. Not hard, just playful. Almost like he was teasing me.
“Disgustingly sweet.” Zane fake-gagged. “I’m gonna be sick.”
But his hand settled on Brumous’ scruff, and Koa joined the pile, a trio of hardened hunters sheltering one broken creature who loved without limits.
As the pup’s warmth seeped into my bones, I made silent vows.
To Seri sleeping upstairs, to the brothers flanking me, even to this scarred wolf teaching me how to bend.
“You’re safe here. Arabesque won’t touch you again.”
Brumous tilted his head, and I could almost hear the question in his gaze: Promise?
“Yeah,” I said with a curt nod. “She’ll answer for everything she’s done to you and Seri. We’ll make sure of it.”