4. Perseus #2
“What—oh.” Slowly, she bent down to his eye level. “You’re much bigger than I thought. I’ve never seen a wolf shifter before. You’re much larger than normal wolves. And you’re prettier.” She reached out to pat his head.
Perseus snorted internally. Of course, she would think he was some kind of sweet, fluffy puppy.
If she only knew what his teeth and jaws could do to her, she’d think twice about petting him.
Still, her hand running over his fur sent a warm, tingling sensation to his belly, and one of his hind legs began to twitch.
She pulled her hand away. “I suppose we should get going?”
He nodded in agreement.
“Alright. How should I do this?”
Just do it, he wanted to say, but trapped in his wolf’s body, Perseus could not speak.
Placing her hands on her hips, Medusa let out a huff of breath. “Okay, we probably should have discussed how this was going to work, but since we’re past that, I’ll just have to wing it.” Grabbing the rope from his backpack, she began to wrap it around his torso. “Sorry if I’m too heavy.”
She was no such thing, at least not for Perseus. Aside from being larger than their animal counterparts, wolf shifters were much stronger. In this form, she was no heavier than the backpack to him.
“Okay, I think I got it.” She managed to wind the rope around him, then lay down against his back, then coiled it around her body to secure her to him. “Am I hurting you?”
He shook his head.
“Okay.” She shifted around so she could use one hand to grab onto the rope, and the other to hold the can of oxygen to her mouth. “I’m ready.”
Perseus had memorized the map by now and had already formed a path up the side of the mountain in his mind.
Rearing up on his hind legs, he leaped up the side of the cliff and dug his claws in.
The rope around his upper torso tightened as Medusa’s weight pulled at it, but she didn’t make a sound.
Sure, he could hear her heavy breathing and feel the thumping of her heart against him, but she remained silent.
Gritting his teeth, Perseus began to climb up.
While he didn’t possess the ability to scale rock faces like a mountain goat, his wolf’s strength and agility allowed him to ascend the steep inclines, clinging onto rock faces and using shrubberies and trees to hurl them upward.
His wolf’s vertical leap also allowed him to jump from ledge to ledge.
Medusa’s grip around him tightened, and she pushed her face deep into his fur, but she didn’t complain or even scream, despite what was likely a terrifying experience for her.
Perseus continued to go higher and higher, pausing only when Medusa shifted around so she could take in more of the oxygen, then giving him a pat on the head to let him know to keep going.
“It’s empty,” she whispered as he clung to a branch of a tree sticking out the side of a mountain face.
Fuck.
“Don’t stop,” she urged. “Keep going. We must be nearly there.”
Perseus scanned the climb ahead. If his calculations were correct, the entrance to the village was right at the ridge up ahead, a few hundred feet above them. His muscles were burning from the exertion, and his paw pads were sore and bloody. But they were almost there, he just had to push on.
He let out a growl, then leaped upward. Higher and higher he went, pushing his wolf’s body to its limit. The air grew thinner, and his lungs could barely adjust to the increasing altitude.
Couple…more…feet.
He could see the top of the ridge, even as white spots began to appear in his vision.
With one last push, he let out a roar as he leaped one more time.
Panic set as he feared that he wouldn’t make it, but as his claws grasped the edge of the ledge, he knew they were there.
His hind legs dug into the rock, and he could feel a claw tearing off, but adrenaline prevented him from feeling pain as he propelled upward, landing with a hard thud on the dirt.
The large stone gate decorated with colorful flags up ahead was the last thing he saw before his entire world went black.
Do you want to know who you really are, Perseus Gialamas?
He was here again.
Eighteen again.
The man with the golden curls smiled, his eyes twinkling in delight.
What do you mean, who I am?
Your true identity, Perseus. Where you came from. Who you are, and more important, who you are meant to be.
The man’s voice was like honey, smooth and tempting.
Let me tell you ? —
No!
Perseus was drowning, and he couldn’t do anything about it. The water was thick, like molasses, and kept pulling him back down. Darkness surrounded him, enveloping him until he couldn’t see the light.
It’s just a dream.
Just a dream.
A dream.
Once he convinced himself it was a dream, it became easier to swim toward the surface, to the faint, orange-colored light. He swam toward the light, his body turning weightless, and he floated along the surface.
It was warm. Not hot, but a comfortable temperature.
There was also a pleasant weight on top of him, and the most delicious feminine fragrance tickled his nostrils.
His nose sought out the scent, tracing it to that very same presence on him.
He nuzzled at soft skin, the delectable smell stirring up want and lust in him, his cock going instantly hard.
It had been too long since he’d had a woman, and certainly not one that smelled this sweet or who had skin so soft.
A strong pulse beckoned to him, so he followed it with his mouth, grazing along the soft curve of shoulder and up a slim neck to where the scent grew stronger.
He wanted to suck on that pulse, graze it with his teeth, and maybe even bite?—
“ Ohhhhhmmmm …”
Perseus’s eyes snapped open.
Was that?—
“Perseus?”
Fuck.
“Where am I?” Medusa croaked.
On top of him, apparently. “I don’t know.”
She rolled away from him, covering her face. “My glasses! They’re gone.”
The thought that he could have been turned to stone sobered him up.
“Don’t move.” He quickly sat up and blinked away the cobwebs of sleep in his brain.
The room came into focus, starting with the soft orange light from his dream—a dying fire from an old iron stove in the corner.
Patting his chest, he looked down and realized he was dressed in unfamiliar clothes, some kind of colorful long-sleeved shirt and soft linen pants, and so was Medusa, at least from what he could see of her with her back turned to him.
They were also on a bed; no, it was a mattress on a low wooden platform, and they were buried under several layers of soft blankets.
Perseus racked his brain, trying to remember what happened.
He was clinging to the side of a cliff, Medusa on his back.
The ledge up above.
One last push. A large stone gate. Colorful flags flying in the wind.
Then nothing.
“Did you find my glasses?” she asked. “I can’t do anything without them.”
“Er, one second.” He glanced around, his shifter eyes naturally adjusting to the low level of lighting. “I don’t—wait.” There was a glint of something to his right. “It’s here.” Sure enough, the mirrored glasses sat on the bedside table.
“ Whew .” Medusa held her hand out, and he placed them in her palm. “Thank sss .” A second later, she shifted to face him. “Thank the gods they’re here. I left my spares in the backpack when we—” She covered her mouth with her hands, then looked around them. “Where are we? What happened?”
“I’m not sure. I just remember climbing up over the ledge, dragging us up, then I blacked out. Can you remember anything?”
“I passed out too.” She patted her head, then adjusted her scarf. “I think someone carried me. Then they took off my clothes and redressed me. I also remember drinking some kind of tea.”
“How do you feel?”
“Me?” Her nose twitched. “I’m actually okay. A slight headache, maybe, but I don’t feel so lightheaded or tired anymore.” She stretched her arms over her head and yawned. “I feel like I’ve been asleep for days. But in a good way, you know. You?”
“Yeah, I’m good.” Of course, instead of being asleep, Perseus felt more like he’d woken from the dead.
Likely, he’d gone into a healing coma. Whenever they get injured badly, wolf shifters go into a deep sleep so their bodies can heal.
He recalled breaking a toe trying to get up the ledge, and he wouldn’t be surprised if he sustained a few internal injuries as well.
“Perseus, what?—”
A soft knock made them both freeze.
“Stay behind me!” He was on his feet in a split second, placing himself between the door and Medusa.
The door swung open slowly, the creaking of the rusty hinges echoing through the small room. His body tensed, his wolf ready to spring into action against any danger ahead.
“Good morning.” A small figure—a woman with dark hair—shuffled inside, a tray with a teapot and cups in her hands. Petite with smiling hazel eyes, her smooth brown skin did not give away her age. “Did you sleep well?”
There was something disarming about the woman’s grin and soft voice. “Where are we?” Medusa asked.
“Sirbhajun,” she replied. “But you probably already know that, since this is your intended destination.”
“How did you?—”
“Your guide, Gaurav, arrived a few hours after you did and explained everything.”
“Everything?” Medusa asked.
The woman smiled at her. “Well, he told me you were headed here, but not why. Not many people come to Sirbhajun on purpose. And, certainly, none of them risk death to do so.”
“D-death?” she stuttered.