My body trembles as I remain squatting, too afraid to look around me, or even ahead of me, where Caz once stood.
He’s dead. It’s my first thought because I don’t hear his thoughts, and I can’t hear him breathing. Whatever that thing was that was hunting us just killed him, and now I’m on my own and won’t be able to get back to my world. Shit, maybe it’ll kill me next.
No, no, no. He can’t be. He can’t…
I dare myself to look up, and there’s a bushy white tail in my face, streaked with silver. Beneath it are a pair of human legs, clad in black jeans. They’re Caz’s legs, perfectly still, and above him is a wolf. The wolf’s body is white; I can’t see its face, but its shoulders are hunched as it growls down at him.
Willow, be still. I hear Caz’s voice and relief floods me.
Oh, thank God, you’re not dead!
My gun.
He moves his hand to the right, his fingers twitching, and I look in that direction. His gun is near a tree, the silver glistening beneath a streak of sunlight.
I start to move, but Caz’s voice in my head demands me to do so slowly.
I crawl toward the gun, breaths coming out rapid and panicked. Just as I’m about to grab it, there’s a rustling and a white paw touches my hand. My heart drops to my stomach.
Slowly lifting my head, I peer up at the wolf, and it stares down at me. Its eyes are silver, and there’s a patch of silver on top of its head. The wolf doesn’t snarl nor growl at me like I expect though. It cocks its head instead, as if it’s wondering why I’m reaching for the gun.
I stare into the wolf’s eyes, and a vision fills my head—one I’ve never had before. A pack of wolves. A baby wolf, running in a field. The wolf being fed by a faceless woman in all black. She pets the wolf. The wolf is happy—I can feel its happiness coursing through me. A memory it’s fond of.
“Willow, the gun,” Caz demands, snapping me out of whatever trance I’m in.
The wolf breaks our stare, turning its head to growl at him again.
My brows dip as the wolf stands in front of me, as if on guard, and Caz glares at it, confused.
“Is it…”
“She’s protecting me.” I say the words without fully understanding them.
Caz’s eyes narrow a split second as he keeps his focus on the wolf. “How is that possible?”
“How is what possible?”
“You’re not even from Vakeeli.” He steps back, blinking.
The wolf walks around me, sniffing at my legs and feet, before deciding to sit next to me. I lift a shaky hand and stroke its fur, and it rests it’s chin on its front paws.
Caz walks forward and starts to pick up his gun, but the wolf bares its teeth and growls at him. He raises his hands, a guiltless gesture to show he’s not trying to harm her, and she stops growling, allowing him to pick up the gun and put it away.
“This is strange. Not everyone can have a wolf.” He studies her a bit more. “But she’s protecting you, which means she’s yours. Have you been to this world before and don’t remember?”
“I…don’t think so.”
“Maeve.” Caz combs his fingers through his thick bed of hair. “She mentioned something about this—the Tether. Seeing you before, years ago, but it wasn’t really you. Perhaps…” Caz’s voice trails off as he loses himself in thought.
“How did you get your wolf?” I ask, standing cautiously.
“My mother bonded him to me when he was a pup, only I didn’t know it then. Not until he came to me when I was nineteen. When I became monarch.” He pauses. “She used to be like Manx in a way—could make her own elixirs, created remedies to help protect and heal people. She also had this way with animals. She could bond them to humans forever, so that they’re willing to protect that human at all costs. My mother, and others who could manage it, would create these bonds for their children mostly, as a way to protect them when they couldn’t be around.”
I can feel my brows pulling tighter together as he speaks. “When I looked into her eyes, I saw a woman in all black feeding and talking to her. Do you think…” I pause. “Do you think that could’ve been your mom?”
“Perhaps…” He stops talking to shake his head. “No. It’s not possible, unless…unless she knew this day would come. Unless she knew the woman you were before.”
“What do you mean?”
Caz locks on my eyes. “It wouldn’t be possible unless she knew you’d end up here, in Vakeeli.”
“How would she have known that?”
Caz doesn’t answer, and I don’t think it’s because he doesn’t want to, but because he genuinely doesn’t have the answer. Instead, he turns around with his back to me. “We should keep moving.”
“What do I do about the wolf?” I ask.
“There’s nothing you can do. It’s here to protect you, so it’ll follow you from here on out. Well, while you’re in Vakeeli, I assume.”
I glance down at the wolf, and her silvery eyes meet mine. I’m not sure what it is I feel, but when my eyes connect to hers again, a warmth courses through me, and there’s a squeeze in my chest, one that demands I protect her at all costs too. She whimpers, then licks the back of my hand.
I follow Caz as she walks by my side. “What should I name her?”
“How do you know it’s female?”
“She looks like it. Plus, when I was on the ground, I didn’t see a penis, so…”
Caz sighs, and I glance down at the wolf again. She’s panting, her pink tongue hanging out as she peers around, like she’s on the lookout for trouble.
I have a wolf now. That’s insane! I mean, it was already crazy enough that Caz had one. My wolf is the opposite of his—white, husky, and furry, but there’s a viciousness to her that would make anyone hesitate to approach her. The silver streak on top of her head brings out a fierceness in her, and as I study the streaks throughout her fur, it’s settled.
“That’s a terrible name,” Caz grumbles.
“Get out of my head!”
“Can’t help what I hear.”
“And I can’t help what I think. Silvera is a pretty name. It’s unique.”
“If you say so.”
I frown at his back. Then I ask, “How do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Shield some of your thoughts.”
He releases an exasperated sigh. “For the last time, it takes practice.” He stops walking and picks up a clunky rock. “Just picture millions of these tiny rocks surrounding your brain. You use the rocks to guard your mind and protect it. Some of the rocks crumble in my mind—usually when I’m focused on something else and not fully concentrating on blocking you out—and that’s when you can hear me. I assume you have no rocks surrounding your brain and no kind of guard because I can hear everything running through your head. It’s quite annoying actually. You should get it under control.”
He tosses the rock at me, and I clumsily catch it. “Well, I guess I’ll start building my wall of rocks now.”
“Good. It’ll spare us both.”
I glance down at Silvera who has her head cocked as she looks from me to my hands. “If you feel the urge to maul him, I won’t stop you this time.” I rub the top of her head, and I don’t know why I keep the rock in my hand, rolling it around in my palms, but I do as I follow Caz along the trail.
