Chapter 8

eight

Death felt strangely like living.

I felt my body, all of my limbs, and my lids, too, as they tried to push up, guided by my instincts.

And I never knew one still had instincts when they died, but here I was. Eyes half open, the sound of my heartbeat in my ears, and this weird smell filling my nostrils, coming from somewhere on my left.

Yes, death felt exactly like living. So much so that for a moment I allowed myself to consider I might be alive. Somehow, in some way, I might still be on Earth—or rather, in Verenthia.

My eyes eventually opened. I heard movement from close by, but I couldn’t turn my head just yet. Instead, I watched the sky, a deeper blue than the last time, and there were a few clouds dotting it here and there now as well.

The same sky as before I’d passed out, when those sorcerers had been at my sides, analyzing me. Telling me that I was infected. That I was going to die soon—within minutes.

Yet…I hadn’t .

This couldn’t possibly be death, no. I was very much alive—and the strangest part? All that pain that had made me scream the last time I was awake was gone. A stinging sensation remained on my right forearm, but the pain in my legs, in the rest of my body had disappeared.

Maybe if I moved a little, I figured. Maybe if I moved, I’d feel it because it simply made no sense that all that pain would simply vanish. So, I did. I moved my leg, just slightly, and braced myself for the pain.

It never came.

Then I heard movement again, coming from the same place as before.

Somebody was there with me, all right, and I did feel the fear.

I felt it deep in my bones as I tried to get my head to turn to the left, to see what was moving, how screwed I was.

Because I was in Verenthia still, and in this place, anything went.

I wouldn’t be surprised to find some twisted version of a fucking lion stalking toward me right now, preparing to sink his teeth in my neck.

But my head turned eventually, and I saw what was moving, and lucky for me it wasn’t a lion.

It was the dog I’d set free from the cage, who was a she, and who wasn’t a dog at all, but a werewolf, apparently.

The dead werewolf who’d thrown me off the edge of the cliff and scratched the hell out of my forearm in the process, too.

All my thoughts came crashing down once more— does this mean that I am dead after all? Because I’d seen that werewolf on the ground when the sorcerers were here. She hadn’t been breathing, hadn’t been moving, and the sorcerer who’d checked on her had confirmed that she was dead.

Yet now she was sitting and eating something stuck between her front paws, looking around us calmly, her tail swooshing from one side to the other like this was just an ordinary day.

And I still had no fucking clue what to make of it—if this meant I was dead, that both of us were, or that somehow we were alive.

Until the werewolf slowly turned her head toward me, licking her lips, and our eyes locked.

She was most definitely not dead. Her big brown eyes were sprinkled with yellow, and her attention was a hundred percent on me.

She was an intelligent being—a very intelligent being, judging by the way she was looking at me, and for a moment there, I could see that woman she was when she didn’t look like a wolf.

I could see her, and I could feel her, and the warmth that spilled all over my insides recognized her, too.

For a moment there, I couldn’t breathe. I felt her as if I’d known her my whole entire life, and the stinging in my forearm intensified while our unblinking eyes held.

Then she turned her head and continued to bite on whatever she had between her paws.

Animal. Fur—bloody and dark. She was eating an animal.

And when I finally got myself together, and I turned my head the other way—I found a dead squirrel right there on the ground near my head, too.

A scream escaped me involuntarily. That’s where the smell was coming from—the dead fucking squirrel someone had left there, far too close to me.

But the momentary panic gave me a boost of energy, and my body moved on, and suddenly I was sitting up. Suddenly, I was trying to drag myself farther away from the dead animal, its brown fur matted with blood, its chest so perfectly still, just like the dry ground underneath us .

The dry ground of the riverbed we’d fallen in from…

“ Oh, my God,” I whispered to myself when I looked back and saw the edge of the cliff—so fucking far up.

Farther than I’d realized the first time I was conscious down here, and now I was really sure that I was dead because there was no way I could have survived that, let alone without a single broken bone. No fucking way.

And the werewolf stood up, too.

Just like I suspected, she’d had a dead squirrel between her paws, except all that was left of it now was the fur.

Don’t throw up, don’t throw up, don’t you dare throw up!

Easier than I thought because the fear of having an actual werewolf in front of me, coming toward me slowly, took over the disgust completely. My God, I was so screwed.

She moved slowly, each step precise, her eyes on my body, scrolling up and down, and she sniffed the air as she approached, too.

I could have sworn that she was bigger than she had been, or maybe it was because I was sitting down.

But she was standing taller, her sharp ears raised, no sign of weakness anywhere on her.

Her fur was three different shades of brown mixed with black around the ears and tail. Her paws were huge, disproportionate to her legs, I thought—but what the fuck did I know about the werewolves of Verenthia?

They love mortal flesh, can smell it from far away— wasn’t that what Rune had told me? Wasn’t that the reason why we hadn’t gone anywhere near The Vale, where the werewolves lived?

And now here I was, with a werewolf of my own that I’d freed myself, thinking it was a dog—and she looked so much like a fucking dog!

Before that sorcerer called her a werewolf, I’d have bet my right hand that she was a dog, a gorgeous mix of possibly a husky or even a German shepherd.

I didn’t really know dogs, but I’d have bet my life that she was one.

In fact, I did. I bet my life on it when I broke the lock of that cage and let her out, and now…

Now she was walking all around me, coming to my other side while I tried to drag myself as far away from her as I could. But my body was so slow to respond, my limbs so heavy. Not because of pain, but because of the fear that robbed me of all my energy.

“Don’t…d-d-don’t eat me,” I said, and I hated my voice shook, but fuck, I was terrified.

And the werewolf turned her head to the side as if she were confused— fucking hell, how is that not a dog?!

I licked my dry lips and was going to talk again, to remind her that I’d let her out of the cage, that she could at least just walk away without killing me, but…

Then the werewolf went for the dead squirrel on the ground, not to eat it, but to push it toward me with her muzzle.

Stunned, I watched the body of the dead squirrel roll over as the werewolf pushed it, then sat down on her hind legs and looked at me.

Just looked at me.

“Are you…” I looked down at the squirrel, but I was too scared to be disgusted right now. “Are you giving me that squirrel to…to eat ?”

Her head turned to the side again. When we were both sitting like this, she was just slightly taller than me, but that still didn’t mean that I was less afraid.

She made a low, breathy sound—half a huff, half a rumble, and her tail flicked to the side once.

Almost like she was saying yes .

I looked at the squirrel again, then back at her. “Are you…not going to eat me then?”

Again, that same huff, and her tail moved again. Relaxed. Swooshing to the sides with ease.

Fuck me sideways. The werewolf wasn’t going to eat me. She’d brought me a dead squirrel instead.

Closing my eyes, I tried to push back the tears that suddenly came at me from the inside like a wave coming out of the ocean to fucking destroy the shore, swallow it whole.

It came crashing onto me and my body was now shaking for an entirely different reason.

I drew in shallow breaths as my heart hammered, and told myself that I was okay, that the werewolf wasn’t going to eat me, that I was alive.

Somehow, however this had happened, I was alive.

It took me a moment to gather myself, though, to put my thoughts in order, to stop the tears that had wet my cheeks, too powerful to hold back completely.

I wiped my eyes with the backs of my hands, and I forced more air down my lungs before I looked up again, to see the werewolf had lay down all the way, front paws crossed, tongue hanging out as she looked around, peaceful. Not worried in the least.

It made me laugh for whatever reason. Maybe because she looked like a dog still, and maybe because she wasn’t eating me. Maybe because she’d brought me a dead squirrel, and maybe because none of this—I repeat, none of this— made any fucking sense. I laughed until my ribs hurt.

The werewolf only watched me curiously for a moment, then continued to look around.

“Thanks for the squirrel,” I said eventually. “But I would rather not eat it, or I will throw up every organ in my body.”

I was hungry, though. Just as I said the words, I realized my stomach was growling with hunger, which made me wonder how long I had been unconscious in this place.

However, I was not going to eat a dead squirrel, not even if the alternative was death. But I did have nuts in my pockets—and the last piece of dried meat I’d stolen from the sorcerer.

It was there, still in the inside pocket of the jacket, together with all the nuts that hadn’t fallen out. The moment I smelled the salty scent of it, my mouth watered—fuck, I was starving! I bit into it like a savage, and I didn’t care. I ate half of it possibly within two minutes.

Meanwhile, the werewolf slowly extended her neck and grabbed the tail of the dead squirrel between her teeth, then pulled it toward herself, secured it between her paws, and dove in.

I couldn’t look—too disgusting. But I didn’t stop eating my meat until my stomach was full. A quarter still remained, and I would save it for later, but I would need water now, too. A lot of water.

If only this river hadn’t dried up, I’d be swimming in water right now.

As I ate, the memories came back to me, and I tried to make sense of them instinctively.

Nothing but dry, cracked earth and pieces of rocks around me.

This river had been huge once, but it had dried up a very long time ago, by the looks of it.

And the trees on the other side looked just as big and as dense as the forest I’d been in.

No sorcerers that I could see anywhere, and it still baffled me that I’d survived the fall without breaking anything.

I looked down at my right arm, the only part of my body that hurt .

“You really did a number on me,” I muttered as the werewolf still ate her squirrel, and I inspected the four deep scratches on my skin, dried blood crusted over them.

Maybe it was just me, but they didn’t look as raw as before when the sorcerers had been inspecting me.

“How did you know that I would survive the fall, though?” I asked next.

“And how did I not break anything? I could have sworn everything hurt the last time…” I looked at the werewolf.

“How did you convince them you were dead? That was on purpose, right? I saw you and you weren’t breathing. ”

A huff and a rumble, followed by a growl that wasn’t threatening at all—that was her answer.

I shook my head, analyzed her face, those wide yellow eyes, her sharp ears, her soft looking fur.

Every color on her, every feature, even the soft pink of her tongue was exactly right.

“You’re beautiful,” I told her. “How in the world are you not a dog?” I couldn’t get over the fact, but the werewolf only huffed.

“And how in the world are you clean and…and… well ?”

That’s when she jumped to her feet, and it was a miracle I didn’t scream from the sudden movement. The werewolf stood up and started to walk ahead down the riverbed, her head turned, her eyes on me.

I could be seeing things, obviously, but I could have sworn that she was telling me to move. To get up. To follow her.

Could I even stand on my legs? Because I wasn’t entirely convinced that my bones weren’t broken for real—but I still had to try. I couldn’t sit here in the sun forever. Who knew when those sorcerers might come back?

So, I tried. With my teeth gritted, I moved my legs and pushed myself up, and other than the pain in my right arm, nothing else hurt.

My muscles were tight, and my limbs felt a bit heavier at first, but I was standing, my legs were perfectly functional, and I most definitely did not have a broken bone in my body.

I smiled. I laughed a little, too. Looked at my hands, at my arms, at my legs. “I’m in one piece.” Which could be the most shocking thing I’d ever said in my entire life.

A whine.

No way she’s not a dog, no way, I thought, but the werewolf was walking in a circle ten feet away, and she was calling for my attention. She wanted me to move, to follow her—and I did.

With a deep breath and one last look up at the cliff from where we’d fallen, I followed.

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