A Dash of Demise

Ch 77: Julian Cheshire

Red POV

I sat in Zanders study in one of the leather chairs facing his desk, waiting for him to arrive.

When the door opened I peaked at the items he had in his hand.

They looked like paddles of some sort, but lacked the metal bits or spikes used for corporal punishment.

I wondered if there was acid on them. "Zander." I greeted him, rising from my chair.

He didn't smile at me as he normally does, but he did stroke a hand through my hair, "Red. Before we get onto your punishment I have some questions for you."

I glanced at the paddles as he set them on the desk.

One of them appeared to have his initials cut out of them, my brows furrowed in confusion.

Still I ignored it, perhaps it was a wolf thing.

Although I had not seen a paddle since I was a child. "Questions?"

"Do you remember the wolves you kill?"

What an odd question to start with, "some, if they were hands on, others like the entire pack I poisoned isn't exactly possible."

"But hand to hand?"

"I remember them. It is often we are questioned about them, they should be in our reports."

He seemed to think this over, not speaking for a moment, "about four years ago, you would have been 13 then... did you come across a younger wolf? Blonde with a white muzzle. East of the palace."

I thought it over for a moment, "did the white end beneath its eyes? As though it dipped its muzzle in cream?"

He swallowed hard and nodded.

"That was four years ago in exactly one month. I would have been 14 then."

He paused for a moment, "pardon?"

"My date of birth. I was abandoned nearly two days after I was born. The note on my body held it. The wolf you are asking about was the day after my 14th birthdate."

"I see..." he murmured, "we should plan you a celebration...but I must ask something serious Red. This isn't something I would accuse you of, I am simply asking. Did you kill that wolf?"

I pursed my lips, debating my answer.

"Please." He said softly, "be honest this is important."

"Why is it important?" I asked instead of answering, curious.

"Maddox swears your scent matches the one from her body."

Of course it would, "I was there."

He walked around his desk, sitting heavily as if the world weighed him down, "there or responsible?"

"That..." I began, "depends on what you deem responsibility."

"Did she die by your hand?"