Chapter 2 Uncertainty Between Us
Casimir Cimmerian
I monitored the scene before me with the same detached precision I’d use evaluating a tactical situation. Heart rate: Elevated. Breathing: Shallow.
The source of my physiological response lounged carelessly on the manicured lawn of Evermere, tossing a stick for Brumous.
The dire wolf pup scrambled after it, his oversized paws churning divots into the grass, powerful jaws snapping at air.
All I could see were the razor-sharp teeth that could sever an artery with one playful nip, the knife-like claws that could disembowel my beloved with a single swipe.
My hands clenched into fists at my sides as I calculated trajectories, imagining the hundred different ways this peaceful scene could transform into a bloodbath.
Dire wolves weren’t pets. They were apex predators with enough bite force to crush bone.
This one might be stunted from Arabesque’s experiments, but his genetic imperatives remained unchanged: Breed, eat, hold territory.
The fact that Seri had somehow formed an attachment to the animal didn’t alter these fundamentals.
She might as well cuddle a loaded firearm with the safety off.
Zane sprawled beside them, his red hair bright against the green as he scratched Brumous behind the ears, completely ignoring the potential disaster unfolding. The wolf’s rear leg thumped against the ground, and Seri’s resulting laugh sent a distracting warmth through my chest.
I turned away, mapping my retreat to the pergola where I could monitor from a safer distance. The vulnerability softening my edges was becoming dangerous, sidetracking me from properly assessing threats. I needed space to recalibrate.
“Running away?” Koa’s deep voice stopped me. My youngest brother stood like a mountain in my path, arms crossed over his broad chest, expression unreadable except for the slight lift at the corner of his mouth.
“I’m not running. I’m repositioning for better situational awareness.” The lie tasted metallic. Koa always saw through me.
“Admit it,” he said, dark eyes steady on mine. “You’re concerned about a creature that still trips over its own tail.”
My spine straightened automatically.
“I am simply—”
“Causing Seri’s smile to dim every time you call him ‘that animal.’ ” The accusation hit with precision, landing exactly where my defenses were weakest.
I glanced at Seri, thinking of the subtle changes in her whenever I approached now, the way her shoulders tensed, how her hand would protectively settle on Brumous’ scruff. The data didn’t lie. I was the variable causing her distress.
Brumous rolled onto Zane’s back, paws cycling through air as Seri laughed again.
Her braid was coming undone, golden strands catching golden sunlight.
The sight burned into my memory with photographic detail: Her small hands, still red and cracked from her stepmother’s abuse, now freely touching that animal’s fur.
The contrast between her delicate wrists and Brumous’ jaws sent a fresh wave of anxiety through my system.
“She’s overstimulating him,” I muttered, noting the twitch in Brumous’ hindquarters. “Play should be structured. Five minutes of chase, ten of—”
“Ten of you sulking?” Ko’s eyebrow lifted, his palm warm and heavy on my shoulder. “Your tactical assessment is flawed, Cas.”
“How so?”
“You’re only calculating risk, not benefit. Look at her. Really look.”
I did. Seri’s cheeks were flushed, eyes bright.
In the weeks since we’d rescued her from Arabesque’s clutches, she’d gained weight, her skin taking on a healthier glow.
My mind automatically charted the improvements: Ten point increase in estimated caloric intake, fifteen percent decrease in cortisol indicators, significant increase in spontaneous verbalization such as laughter.
Seri chose that moment to lunge for the stick Brumous was gnawing. The pup yipped, skidding sideways into her, and she tumbled over, landing palms-down in the clover with a sound that spiked my pulse before I recognized it as amusement, not pain.
“You’re holding your breath,” Ko said.
“Am not.”
“Are, too. Every time she touches him.” His thumb pressed the junction of my collar bone, where I could feel the rabbit-quick thud without his intervention. “Your pulse is racing. Pupils dilated. You’re in fight-or-flight, Cas.”
I shrugged away from his touch, irritated by the accuracy of his assessment. He’d always been unnervingly perceptive, dissecting emotional states like I did battle strategies.
“He’s utterly devoted to her,” Koa’s voice dropped so only I could hear. “Sometimes you just have to trust, brother.”
“Unacceptable.” My molars ground together as I watched Seri chase Brumous toward the apple orchard.
My mind rapidly calculated angles, distances, reaction times.
Too far. If something happened, I might not reach her fast enough.
“It’s not about devotion. I know he’s devoted to her.
I know he loves her. But he weighs more than her now. One accidental swipe—”
“Is easier to survive than thinking the man you love despises your heart’s joy.”
The statement hit like a sledgehammer to my chest. I turned to face him fully, momentarily disregarding the tactical disadvantage of losing visual on Seri.
“I don’t despise him! That’s not what this is about.”
“Isn’t it? You track his every movement. Your heart rate spikes when he approaches her. You’ve measured those claws twice. I saw your notes.”
Had I been that transparent? I prided myself on control, on keeping my concerns properly compartmentalized. The realization that I’d failed so spectacularly produced an uncomfortable heat at the base of my skull.
“Seri notices, too,” he added, twisting the knife. “She thinks you hate Brumous because he’s impractical. A liability.”
“He is a liability! Unpredictability is always a liability. Emotional distraction compromises security priorities. And yes, I’ve measured his claws. I’ve also calculated bite force, maximum sprint speed, and territorial aggression factors. It’s called risk assessment.”
“And have you calculated what will happen if you make her choose between you and Brummy?”
A crack came from my left, and I swiveled, heart bursting, sure the wolf had snapped Seri’s neck. Instead, the stick Brumous had been chewing lay splintered in Zane’s hands.
“Shit. You two hear that?” He grinned, eyes dancing with more mischief than normal. “Oldest Cimmerian brother’s heart, snapped by a therapy wolf.”
“He’s not—”
Before I could continue explaining my logical concerns, Brumous let out a snarl, and all three of us turned as one. The sound sliced through the peaceful afternoon, primal and unmistakable. Not playful. Not warning. Pure threat.
The wolf knocked Seri down with stunning speed, and she landed with an oomph. In that moment, my mind processed two critical data points simultaneously: Brumous wasn’t attacking her. He was shielding her.
The dire wolf stood over our beloved in textbook guard position, his hackles raised to maximum elevation, eyes tracking something in the sky as a low growl rumbled through his chest.
For all my concerns about the dire wolf himself, I’d failed to factor in a much more fundamental equation: His own protective instincts.
And in that moment of crystal clarity, as I watched him position himself between Seri and whatever danger approached, I realized the fatal flaw in all my calculations.
I’d been treating Brumous as a variable rather than a constant.
An unknown factor rather than an ally. And now that miscalculation might cost us everything.
My body was already in motion before my mind finished processing, years of training taking over as I sprinted toward Seri, calculating trajectories and angles of approach. My brothers flanked me, moving with the silent coordination that had kept us alive through countless missions.
Following the wolf’s line of sight even as I moved, I saw it, the unmistakable glint of silver talons and a hex sigil burning crimson on the hawk’s chest. Not a natural predator.
A construct, a weapon. The raptor was mid-dive, headed straight for where Seri had been standing before Brumous tackled her.
If I had been rational in that moment, I might have acknowledged that the wolf had just saved her life, but rational thought had been replaced by a singular imperative: Protect beloved at all costs.
Intercepting the hawk’s path, my forearm blocked the strike meant for Seri’s throat, talons shredding my flesh instead of hers. The second the silver claws dug in, a curse seared through my veins, hungry and gouging.
Damnation!
As Brumous remained a furry barrier looming over Seri, her gray eyes wide with confusion, his snarls harmonized oddly with Zane’s enraged shout somewhere behind us.
Meanwhile, the hawk construct wheeled overhead, shedding charmed feathers that hissed where they landed on the grass, leaving small smoking craters.
Secondary attack mechanism. Clever.
“Eyes up!” I called out, tracking the bird’s movements. “It’s circling around!”
The construct exploded in a burst of crimson and black as Koa’s knife found its heart. Feathers and arcane components rained down, and Zane raced to gather them all before Seri could see.
“Good target practice,” Ko smirked, hand still extended in throwing position.
His casual tone belied the deadly accuracy of the throw: A perfect heart strike on a moving target from twenty meters. I acknowledged the feat with a nod, then turned to Seri.
Brumous had stepped aside, allowing her to sit up, but remained close enough to intervene if needed.
She clamored to her feet and stared at my arm, fingers probing the cuts with terrifying gentleness.
Her touch sent conflicting signals through my nervous system: Pain from the curse, but something warmer where her skin met mine.
“I’ve never seen a hawk attack a person!” Her eyes were wide with concern. “You’re hurt!”