Chapter 11
Sliding another drawer open, I pull out a pair of crimson-red shorts, along with a loose black T-shirt. Tucking it in on the side, I do a little spin. Having access to all my clothes is incredible. I’m going to spend the entire day exploring, maybe test something new out.
I open the novel The Myths in Time. In this chapter, a red wolf’s speed reaches near-invisible levels to the human naked eye, like a blur.
Ever since Pratt couldn’t outrun a bullet, I’ve been thinking of trying out my max speed.
It’s not like I expect to beat a bullet, but I love a challenge.
Pratt held back on a lot of my experimenting as he believed using ancient magic has consequences.
Utter burnout can happen and has put me in a near-coma a few times while healing myself.
I read the passage again before putting it away.
There must be some way to do it. I’ve only mastered healing.
All other red wolf traits, besides the ability to talk into select minds, I have failed.
Like trying to grow—nothing happens. There’s no one to tell me how it works, and the books are vague and contradicting.
I have yet to read many useful novels at Stark’s, but I’m sure there will be something.
My gut tightens. No. There’s no going back. I’m dead, and it’s staying that way.
I skip out the door, locking it behind me.
The air is warmer today, giving us a false sense of spring nearing.
Birds chirp and swoop over the clearing.
Like it’s any other day, I round the house and head into the woods, picking up a small run.
Everything is familiar, from the knot in a tree to another fallen.
A smile eases onto my face as I jog just far enough to be comfortable.
In seconds, a thrill runs through me when I leap onto all fours.
No one’s chasing me, but I bolt through the thick brush, following the long line to the cliffs.
My fur, thick and ruby-colored, stretches over my entire body.
I’m not as massive as Stark, but not far off.
I run to the ridge where the forest falls away.
You can see the town from here, a faint break in the forest off to the left.
Beyond that, the brown forest stretches out, filled with patches of green from the needles that hold on through winter.
I let out a howl straight from my gut; it echoes from here, making it tough for anyone to find its origin.
I continue my adventure in another section of the forest, where a few small fields are.
The snow is deeper out of the forest, and half of the field is shaded with the rough edges of trees.
A few small saplings stick up from the white, folded over from the weight of snow on their branches.
I back myself up to the edge, scanning for any movement beyond the regular forest animals.
My ears rotate and find nothing. A small rabbit at the far end of the field hops in the snow.
Attempt one.
My paws spread out into the forest floor, as I let my legs burn up. Surging forward, my vision blurs and I put the brakes on hard, looking for grip on the snow before nearly sliding into a tree. Well, not a failure, but not a success.
I turn back at the field and pull at the heat source, filling my lungs until flames brace against my ribs.
Taking off back across the field at the edge of the shadow line, magic explodes in me, and I slide into the base of a tree, cracking the bark.
I groan. I might need more room for this. I huff a deep breath.
One more attempt.
Heat burning, lungs full, my claws dig into the snow as I take off. Heat fires through my chest, similar to the healing fire. It’s consuming and I don’t fight it. Running faster, the trees at the end of the field end up right in my vision and I bypass one before running straight into another.
Spirits damn it. My vision doesn’t keep up.
The next biggest field is hours away, so that’s out of the question for now.
I lean back, stretching my neck to relieve the ache.
Eyelids fluttering, I start walking back, breathing in the forest smells. The distance is long at a walk, even with a bigger stride. Weaving back and forth, I take my time, enjoying the quiet of the winter forest. The ability to turn and explore every day will make this worth it. I can be me.
My steps sink deeper into the snow as my eyelids get heavier.
“Stop pushing yourself,” Pratt spoke through our connection. He knew how to block others out like me, being careful with his thoughts, but I can choose who hears mine.
“You said I’m not weak, so stop treating me like I am,” I retorted back.
I close my eyes at the memory. My ruby fur had shimmered like water in the sun rays as we laid in a spot between the summer trees.
I miss you, I think to him.
The silence back takes my breath away.
I wobble and cross my legs, brushing snow off a tree. It melts into my fur as I reach a different opening in the forest from where I turned. A little closer to home, my legs move slow. Running won’t be an option. I am ready to sleep until tomorrow or next week.
My nose twitches as the faint smell of wolf fills my senses.
Shit.
My paws grip into the earth below the snow.
Breathing slow through my nose, I try to listen, but there are no voices or movement.
I’m too far away from home to see it, but the scent is too strong in that direction.
If they get a scent of me, they’ll be here in minutes.
Adrenaline might give me enough to run. I pushed it earlier.
Sometimes I hate that Pratt was right. The reminders in those stories front-lined my dreams for years.
My heart pounds faster. This isn’t how I thought it would go.
A scoff fills my ears.
It’s only one wolf, I’m certain. I doubt it’s the two wolf-crazed assassins. I need to get closer.
There were some things Pratt knew best, and it’s time to take one from his book. I turn back, my red shorts and shirt twisted. I pull them right and start zigzagging back to the house. My senses lowered, the wolf scent is faint.
The sun is lowering into the trees, casting off an orange glow.
I tie up my hair, ready for a losing battle. I will not fight red and scar my brother’s name.
As I round the front of the property away from all my tracks, there is a faint sound of a wolf breathing. Moving closer to the trees, I peek around the rough bark edge, but two blue eyes stare into mine.
Fucking Stark.
My pulse relaxes until a growl grows from him, releasing hot breath into my face.
Red. I’m going to kill her.