Chapter 7
Chapter seven
Lyra
Iwake to the sound of trilling songbirds, my back stiff and my legs cramped as I slept on a cold floor all night. Yet something soft brushes against my shoulders, and I open my eyes to a watery sun, its rays piercing through the trees high above as they blind me for several seconds.
When my vision adjusts, I glance up, finding a blanket draped across me. Two blankets, as a matter of fact, layered on top of the other.
My head rests on a pillow, too.
What gives?
I did not fall asleep with these blankets or the pillow. Nor did I fall asleep with a fox curled up against my side, either.
I stare at the little creature, Fidget, perplexed for a moment
The contrast between his burnt orange fur and his white, whiskered cheeks really catches my attention. I don’t think I’ve ever been this up close to a fox before. I’ve definitely never had one sleeping beside me, keeping me warm.
He even uses his bushy tail as a pillow, just like the pillow beneath me.
Again, that was not there when I fell asleep. Someone must have placed it beneath me while I slept fitfully throughout the night, along with the blankets.
I turn my head, finding Malakai sleeping with his back pressed against the tree opposite the pen.
I blink. I’ve never seen a sleeping Alpha before. I’m not sure what is more surprising: the sleeping fox or the snoozing Alpha.
Both are dangerous. And both are rather adorable when asleep.
He’s a little too far away for me to see from my vantage point, his sun-dappled face capturing my gaze beneath the branches of the tree. They sway in the morning breeze, causing shadows to dance across his stubbled cheeks, but I can see enough to know that his eyebrows are no longer furrowed.
Now, his expression is smoothed out, that permanent scowl gone.
It’s hard to believe he’s the same Alpha who accosted me in the woods last night, dragging me back to this pen, kicking and screaming.
I can’t believe he locked me in a fox pen. The prick. But he also stayed with me all night and brought me a pillow and blankets.
It’s certainly an upgrade from the cell I escaped back at the Arena.
At least the fox is cute; he fits snugly against my stomach, curled up into a tight ball.
He wakes next—the fox, I mean—and when he yawns, he squeaks, showing me a mouth full of sharp teeth.
He even stretches his long black legs in front of him.
Then his amber eyes with their slitted pupils fall on me, and he wags his bushy tail.
His jaw hinges loose as he chitters in greeting, a strange series of squeaks and clicks escaping his mouth.
I think he is talking to me in some bizarre fox language.
Damn. He’s more than cute. He’s freaking precious. And he did seem rather drawn to me, keeping me warm all night.
I wonder if he would let me pet him.
Carefully, I reach a hand toward him, petting his cheek.
His amber eyes close, and then his black lips stretch at the corners.
The shape of his mouth almost makes him look as if he’s smiling, and he reminds me of an illustration from a children’s picture book.
And the little noises he makes... He almost sounds like a human baby.
“Careful. That fox bites.”
I jump at the voice, turning to find Malakai standing over the pen. His shadow blocks the sunlight, and I have to squint to see his expression. Yet all I find are a pair of gleaming, gray eyes.
I’m so distracted by his ominous form that I fail to notice the moment the fox clamps his jaws around my hand. I wince, pulling my fingers back, yet he barely drew blood.
I think that was just how he expresses love.
I scowl at the Alpha again as I wrap the blanket around me, wiping my silvery hair from my face. I am covered in mud and straw, but what else is new?
“So... are you going to let me out?”
Malakai raises a brow. “That depends. You going to try and run again, menace?”
I clench my jaw. “I am not a menace.”
Malakai laughs, and he doesn’t make a single attempt to let me out of the pen. Well, the joke’s on him; the fox is better company, anyway.
Do they ever let him in the house? He’s too cute to be locked away, and trust me, I know a thing or two about being locked away.
Malakai sighs, opening the door of the pen. “Come on. Get out. Wren will be worried sick when he finds your bed empty.”
Guilt rips through my veins next as Malakai holds the door open for me. I rise on stiff legs, joining him outside.
As I leave, the fox tries to leave with me, but the Alpha puts a foot in front of him. “Not you. You destroy the furniture and pee everywhere.”
Malakai shuts the door, and the little fox whines in protest, opening his jaw wide again.
His anger is so strong now that it makes his tonsils vibrate at the back of his throat.
Again, he makes a strange series of staccato squeaks and clicks, sounding just like a small child having a tantrum.
There are some harsh words in there too, and I don’t even have to speak fox to understand what he’s saying right now.
Because I feel the exact same way.
He doesn’t seem to like Malakai. His black, pointed ears fall back, and his slitted pupils grow wide with apprehension.
As the Alpha leads me back to the house, I turn to the fox. He is still crying out in protest, demanding to be let out of the pen, and my heart breaks for him.
Poor thing.
I know what it’s like to be caged, too. Yet there is one thing I do know: Fidget is loved. That is more than I can say for myself.
Just before we arrive at the house, my hair disheveled and covered in hay, shame burns my cheeks.
How am I going to explain where I have been? And how am I going to look Wren in his soft, sage green eyes, knowing how I paid back his kindness?
I tried to run away.
He’ll be crushed.
This will suck.