White Roses: A Continuation of Lana_sky's Short Story 'Without Thorns'

Chapter 5

A/N: So I was wondering how you guys located this story? Please let me know.

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Chapter Five

Deva woke on what felt like the hardest surface ever. What happened to her cloud? At least she was no longer hanging from her wrists and ankles or, had all the blood pooling in her head. Where was she? She didn't feel like she was still in the dungeon of Etienne's Keep. She was warmer for one. Along with the memories of the Keep, the pain from all his beatings rushed back to her as rough tongues washed over her wounds. She opened her eyes and looked around to see she was surrounded by wolves. Real wolves. And everything flashed back into her head. An old woman had taken her out of the dungeon, fed her, and had given her to the animals of the woods. The big, twenty-point elk had taken her away. Where? Where was she?

It was a cave. She should have felt cold on the hard, dirt-and-stone ground but the wolves were all curled around her, warming her, cleaning her wounds. She floated back into oblivion.

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The light from the cave entrance was bright and Deva was awake again. Her mind was clearer. She had a better idea of what had happened, her time with Etienne, once he realized she had forsaken him, the short time on the white cloud of a bed, running with the elk and wolves.

She turned her head and found a chunk of raw meat close by. She looked at the wolves. The image of wolves eating the meat came into her head.

She wondered if they were trying to tell her the meat was for her. She shook her head. “I don't eat meat.”

All the wolves' ears popped up and each head canted to the side questioningly. She could tell they thought she was crazy. Or maybe they were confused.

“Do you not have a wood nymph close by?” I asked.

The feeling of confusion entered her mind. Deva realized it was the wolves' attempt to communicate. Hmm. Did they not understand her? Maybe they didn't understand English. What other country could she be in? France? Spain? Italy? Portugal? Germany? Switzerland? Crap.

A large wolf came from the outside straight towards her, causing her to back down until she was on her back. He stood over her, his muzzle close to her mouth. She began to feel panicked. His tongue slipped out and touched her lips. “What . . . ?”

Before she could figure out what was going on, water dripped from the wolf's mouth into her own. It was more than a mouthful, so much of it slipped down her cheeks as she coughed most of it out. However, the water was manna on her dry lips. Her thirst was not sated but inflamed. She needed more. Her eyes looked gratefully up at the wolf. “More please.” She thought of the image of her getting water and sent it to the wolf, hoping for comprehension.

The wolf leaned down and licked the spilled water off her cheeks. “Thank you,” she said to the wolf. It ran off.

She sat and thought of how long it would take for her to get better. She hoped the area's wood nymph was on her way. She was indebted to the animals for taking her from Etienne. She hoped they were far from Etienne's sphere of control because she knew these wolves would have no defense against his power. Even if the other wood nymph were to come, the only defense they would have would be to hide. And Etienne could easily ferret them out. For Etienne was not just old and potent, he was knowledgeable.