Chapter 31
Anya Delemond
Hours of travel passed in no time as Roderick spouted tale after tale of his time with the Petorus knights—even revealing his connection to Sir Ronaldo through the former Commander, doing his best impression of one of the Commander’s infamous quotes.
“Never give a sword to a man who can’t dance,” Roderick bellowed, forcing his husky voice down an octave as he held a finger up. “He’ll stab you in the gut and step on your toes.”
Anya laughed until her sides split. “Stars, that is precisely how Sir Ronaldo sounded. He was such an old coot. I can’t believe your Commander said it too.”
“And he said it just like that, on my honor! I’m glad he did justice to the original.”
The fuzzy feeling of mirth in her chest subsided, giving way to the feelings she’d smothered under conversation. Her mind wandered as Roderick continued his tales.
Roderick’s life wasn’t just Petorus. Being a knight-commander had given him opportunities she could only dream of.
He’d been to every inch of Valeria twice over, and wet his blade with the blood of monsters she’d only read about.
He’d even contacted the recluse clans of Kobolds deep in the Caves of Coria.
How could she rip him away from that life?
He was a noble, yes, but he was hardly a sit-behind-a-desk sort of man.
When he had a problem, he took action with sword and mount over quill pen and paper.
The only battles she had fought were against greasy palms, legalese, and sharp words uttered behind noble backs.
Exhaustion reared its head. Her steps dragged along the mossy path. She couldn’t tell if it was from the weight of the emotions swirling in her head, or the lack of sleep. Or both. She detested the morass of irrational thought in her head. Irrational, in that it shouldn’t exist in the first place.
Stars above, it was so much simpler when she hated him. She forced her gait to quicken and catch up to Roderick.
“—and then Octavio tried to shake the Kobold’s hand, and it bit him! The Kobold said he thought it was an offering. His hand. He thought Octavio was literally offering to let him eat his hand!”
When she didn’t laugh with him, Roderick turned his head to her, then halted his step.
“Anya? What’s wrong? I know you aren’t upset about Octavio’s hand.”
“Nothing,” she murmured.
“Anya,” he repeated, his tone trying to massage the truth out of her.
She sighed. “I’m tired, all right? I’m tired, and it isn’t even dark yet. Not that that should matter, I was nocturnal until two days ago. But—”
“But what?”
“But my body seems to crave a diurnal cycle. Like…like a human!” She growled the last word, flaring her nostrils. Humans were fine. But not when their habits leaked into her.
Roderick stared into her eyes. “Listen to me. Nothing about you is human. You aren’t part human, part wolf. You are Lycanian, through and through. And when all this is over, you’ll be back to snoozing in the sunlight and basking in the stars, I swear it.”
He pulled her into the circle of his arms and rested his chin on her head. Even though his promise wasn’t possible, her frustration softened.
“However,” he released her and peered at the horizon, “we should set up camp while we still have some light.”
“Camp? Do you have a tent shoved up your ass?”
“Ha ha, very funny. Tricks up my sleeve, more like. Follow me, Princess.” He grasped her hand and led her off the path and into the woods.
Underbrush crunched beneath their feet. Cicadas began to click the further they went.
Roderick squeezed her fingers every few feet, as if to check that he wasn’t dragging her snoring corpse along with him.
“What are we looking for?”
“This.” Roderick let her hand go. He knelt down and muscled up a hollow log, then cracked it in half and surveyed the pieces proudly. “Behold, our shelter.”
Anya stared at the crumbling, moss-laden halves. Pillbugs writhed on the undersides.
Her nose crinkled. “Tell me you’re joking.”
Roderick gasped. “Is the Princess afraid of a few creepy crawlies?” He wiggled his fingers like a spider walking. “Careful. You may become a living cliché.”
“Oh she’s not. But she’s also not afraid to sleep out in the open, if it means she won’t wake up with grubs in her ears.”
Roderick cracked each piece in half again, sending the bugs flying. “There. Problem solved. And now I have four posts.”
Roderick’s stomach growled. He offered her a sheepish grin.
“While you work your…whatever this is,” Anya waved her hands wildly, “I’ll find us something to eat.”
“I’ll take a mug of ale while you’re at it!
” Roderick shouted after her. She chuckled and dipped behind a tree far enough from his sight, then stripped off her dress and shifted.
The sights and smells of the forest instantly overwhelmed her.
Everything was new. Everything. Even the familiar signature of the downy birch trees had a new intensity to it.
Trails of scents cris-crossed in every direction.
A squirrel up a tree. Nesting birds. A hare expecting a litter.
Rodents, rodents, more rodents. Something tall, with the musky odor of a mule deer, but softer.
She stalked through the woods, burning the last of her energy on the hunt.
After a stubbed nose and an unfortunate run-in with a bull thistle, Anya headed back to camp with a warm, white hare clamped in her jaws.
Satisfaction seeped into her bones. Catching a hare was probably not something to gloat about, wolfishly-speaking.
But for her, it was a little victory over the human influences in her life.
Her tail beat back and forth as she drew closer. She couldn’t wait to show Roderick. She wanted to see his eyes light up when she dropped the hare at his feet.
She trotted around the bend and found him kneeling beside a small fire. He looked up, flashing a smile that made her tail whip into a frenzy.
I hope you’re hungry, she said, letting the hare tumble from her jaws.
“Wow!” Roderick’s eyes lit up, just as she’d hoped. “I thought we’d be eating berries and moss for dinner.”
Not on my watch, Anya said. Although I’m not sure what to do from here. I don’t think you want to see me eat this raw. And I don’t know how to skin it.
The scene playing in her mind made her shudder. She imagined Roderick reeling back in horror as she dove into the hare like a true beast, blood staining her muzzle and teeth. And when she shifted back, it would still be there, and she’d be a sight to behold in all the wrong ways.
“As much as I would love to see the satisfaction in your eyes when you eat your kill warm, I am feeling a little greedy. And hungry. Make yourself bipedal and decent and I’ll teach you how to skin it. We’ll put those claws to work.”
Anya quickly rubbed her head under his chin, then darted back into the woods, thanking the Moon she couldn’t blush in this form.
The chin rub felt second nature. His words made her so happy, she felt like she would explode if she didn’t show him.
And there wasn’t a hint of sarcasm in those words.
Did the idea of watching her munch on hare guts honestly please him?
But of course, he was not unacquainted with gore.
She made her way to the tree where her tattered dress hung over a branch, then shifted, losing herself in the sensation of the night air on her bare skin. If she weren’t so tired, tonight would have been perfect for a romp under the stars.
Another time. At least once, before they had to return to Valeria. Who knows how long it would be before she could do it again after that.
She loosened the bodice on her dress, then slipped it over her head.
Roderick could get the ties for her.
On two legs, she finally noticed the respectable shelter Roderick had built. The four pieces of log and several large branches were positioned as a lean-to, and covered in thick fir tree boughs dotted with pink buds.
Roderick sat on a log in front of the structure, his legs wide and relaxed as he admired the hare, running his hands over its snowy fur. The flickering firelight reflected Roderick’s disheveled red hair. He perked up as she approached.
“Sit here.” He leaned over and patted a bed of fir boughs spread in front of him.
Against all ladylike intuition, Anya settled between his knees and crossed her legs.
The fire instantly warmed her, just slightly too much, but in an invigorating, bracing way that made her feel alive.
Roderick tied the threads of her bodice without her even asking.
She’d never sat by a fire like this before. Even on the last night of their voyage on the Centarian mission, she’d hung around the baluster, away from the center of the festivities and any potential wild behavior that might have come with it.
Roderick brought his face next to hers, then placed the hare in her claws.
His hands slid over hers. “Start with the knees and thighs,” he said softly, guiding her claws to the spots. “Make a circular incision on each side.”
Wolfish delight bloomed in her chest as her claws easily cut through fur and skin. She felt Roderick’s jaw tick up into a smile against her ears.
“That’s perfect. Now connect those two cuts from one hind foot to the other. Stay on the inside of the legs.” He took her hand and guided her finger along the path.
“What now?”
“Slip your fingers under the cuts and gently pull around. I’m confident your instincts know the rest.”
Anya did just that. In a minute, the rabbit was skinned up to the shoulders, revealing glistening meat striated with muscle and white sinew.
Roderick was right. The more she leaned into her instinct, the easier it got. She went straight to work separating the front and hindquarters, taking care not to puncture the gut.
“I did it!” Anya smiled ear to ear and held up the pieces.
“You astound me, Anya. Star charting, sword fighting, and now top-notch butchering. You’re a jack of all trades.”
Warmth rushed to her face as he pressed a kiss to her cheek, then stood with a grunt.
“I’ve got the perfect sticks for this.” He paused and barked a laugh. “Ha! You’d think me a bird trying to impress its mate.”
If you are…
It’s working.