RED
I awoke to a mouthful of silver fur, streaked with mud, blood, and soot. That explains the foul taste of ashes, I thought blearily, spitting out wiry guard hairs as I pushed myself upright, squinting against the orange glare of a new day. Unlike the hellish landscape of my dream, the sun had to strain to be seen in this sky. The charred skeleton of the woods was smothered by a thick blanket of smoke, made worse by the wafting residue of a campfire to my right. Rana was still fast asleep beside the coals, an arm slung over Eddy, the Kirin foal who'd become my steadfast companion shortly after I escaped from the Blood Moon Pack. The Witch of the East was nowhere to be seen, but I wasn't surprised by her absence, given the mangled state of her cottage. She'd almost killed us on the mistaken belief that we were going to steal her recipe for apple crumble pudding; perhaps it was better if she some time apart from the group to process her loss.
The Wraith's slow, even breathing hitched, announcing his sleepy return to consciousness. I stepped carefully over his tail and turned to face the lounging wolf, my frown deepening as I tallied his scabbing wounds. For a split second, I was transported back to the Queen Weaver's den, watching the gleaming threads of her web shred his flesh to ribbons as he struggled to break free. Blood bloomed like poppies in his fur, the same beautiful shade as his eyes, and I'd screamed at the thought of losing him.
"You came back for me," I murmured, brushing a chunk of soot from his snout. "That was foolish."
The Wraith let out a derisive snort, climbing to his feet and shaking out his coat. Ash rained down, tickling my nose as he shrank within the centre of that dusty cloud, bones crumpling and compacting, muscles shrinking and shaping themselves to a brand new skeleton. Soon it was a man who towered over me instead of a wolf, with broad shoulders that belied the lean strength rippling through his torso.
Sebastian looked just as beautiful as the day he'd first transformed before my eyes, with his angular symmetry and faintly luminescent, silver-freckled skin. His hair — rumpled and curling at the ends from sleep — was white as a blanket of fresh snow, but the strands that fell into his eyes were blue as a fork of lightning. I suspected it had been stained by the blood of the Bone Snatcher he'd rescued me from, when our paths had first converged in the Wylds. That day felt like months ago now, not mere days, but the memory of our encounter was still crisp as hoarfrost in my mind. I couldn't decide if I felt apologetic or savagely delighted by the permanence of that mark, for it testified to the strength of our hold on one another; claimed him as my protector, in a way.
"I couldn't leave your body there to rot," Sebastian said gravely.
I blinked, retreating from the archaic turn of my thoughts. I was not a lycan, despite what I'd been led to believe over the years; despite my soul-bond with Hunter, which I'd cast off like the shackles they were. I could only guess at Nya's intentions when she'd bound our souls together, but I felt confident that they were nefarious. Hunter was the son of Rogan, the Blood Moon Alpha. That couldn't have been a coincidence.
"Wait," I said, registering Sebastian's words properly for the first time. "You came after me even though you thought I was dead?" My hand flew up to my mouth, as if to ward against the threat of my churning stomach. "That makes you even more foolish! What were you thinking, risking your life for nothing?"
Sebastian quirked a silvery brow, enhancing the natural slant that lent itself to mocking. "I had my doubts," he admitted, crossing his arms. For a split second, I thought he regretted risking his life on my behalf, and felt a confounding mixture of disappointment and relief. Mercifully, his elaboration cut both of them short. "Hunter was convinced that he felt you die through the mate-bond, but I suspected you were too stubborn to go that easily. And even if you had died..."
So Hunter and Sebastian had crossed paths after I was abducted by the Weavers, then. "What?" I asked, shelving that tidbit of information for later. I was dying to find out how their chance meeting had transpired, but I was even more desperate to understand why someone as intelligent and courageous as Sebastian would risk his life — yet again — for someone like me.
"I couldn't stand the thought of leaving you behind," he admitted, voice dropping a notch, as if the pain was still fresh. It bled over the shores of his mind and into the waters of mine.
"Sebastian..."
I wanted to curse him for being so foolish, for jeopardizing his safety with nothing to gain save my corpse, but the air was suddenly thin and I couldn't suck in enough air to form the words. This man had walked through fire to find me, had plunged into a den of spiders and taken on their Queen, just to recover my body! Not even in life had I been afforded that kind of dignity; that kind of devotion, which was written all over his face even now. Sebastian looked at me as though he was taking me seriously; as if my words carried weight, and he was intent on bearing all of them upon his back.
Now all I wanted was to kiss him. I leaned forward without intending to, reaching out to trace the strong, clean line of his jaw, as I often did without thinking when he was a wolf. His skin was unbelievably soft, as was the shadow of his morning stubble, but the bone beneath was firm, like steel wrapped in silk.
Sebastian leaned into my touch, just slightly, and my skin flushed when I registered just how presumptuous I was being. He was a man, not a wolf, and something had shifted between us along with those forms.
"Sorry," I mumbled, trying to pull away, but Sebastian grasped both of my hands and slung them around the back of his neck. Flush against his chest, with nothing but my silver cloak to separate our skin, I felt safer than I'd ever felt in my life — and yet also like I was hanging from the precipice of a cliff. His eyes searched my face intently, as if the answer to every question he'd ever asked was written in the widening of my eyes, the involuntary parting of my lips. When his attention settled on my mouth, I couldn't help but look to his. Couldn't help but wonder if his lips would feel as soft and supple as his skin; wonder how they would feel trailing down my jaw, pressing a gentle kiss over the pulse in the throat...
"May I?" Sebastian asked, voice going rough.
I blinked, realising that his hands were hovering in silent question. Not sure that I could trust myself to speak, I nodded my consent, tilting my face up as he lowered his head.
Sebastian pulled me into a fierce embrace, burying his face in the crook of my neck and shoulder. He clutched me like his life depended on it, breathed in my scent as if to convince himself that I was real. I melted into his touch, marveling at the way our bodies locked together, as if we were two halves of a cleaved gemstone. His heartbeat pounded against my ear as his heat swept through me, melting away the aches and pains of my recent misadventures, of lying on the forest floor for Goddess knows how long while I recovered from wielding Rya's Blessing.
That heat reminded me again of when Sebastian's life was on the line, and I reflexively clutched him tighter. My agony and rage at the thought of losing him had unleashed the fire trapped in the heart of my soul, pent up for so long that it had exploded forth like a volcano. It had incinerated the Queen Weaver and all of her pitiful servants beyond recognition, only to ricochet back with a forest fire in tow, pouring into all of my orifices like scalding oil, evaporating and regenerating my insides in agonising turns.
I'd thought for sure that I was going to die, but had felt vehemently that it was worth it, if it meant that Sebastian might live. Sebastian, who'd fought tooth and nail and risked his life on many occasions to give me a fighting chance in the Wylds. Sebastian, who had faith in me when no one else did. Sebastian, who was solid and real and warm in my arms --
"Where's my hug?" someone scowled, tossing a handful of dirt our way. Small sticks and stones scattered at our feet. "I nearly died too, you know."
Like alley cats caught stealing scraps, Sebastian and I leapt apart, looking anywhere but at each other. Rana had extricated herself from the sleeping foal and was sitting up now, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, the deep, speckled blue of lapis lazuli. Her brown skin was limned by the ruddy glow of the burning sky, as were the jewel tones of her hair, bringing to mind a glistening trove of treasure.
A flash of irritation swept through me, surprisingly strong, but relief was quick to tamp it down. "I'm glad to see you're okay," I said, holding out a hand. The last time I'd seen the wyvern, a horde of human-spider abominations had been swarming over her in droves. They'd dragged me away before I could learn her fate, but I'd overheard in their underground stronghold that Rana had been bitten. They'd crowed that their venom would bring Rana to her knees in a matter of moments.
That venom had also made a pass at my heart, but years of ingesting poison had fortified its constitution. That tolerance had saved my life in the end. And Sebastian's, I thought, wishing I could turn around to face him, try to read his thoughts in his expression. I'd thought he was going to kiss me before, but he'd pulled me into a hug instead. Had I utterly misunderstood his interest in me?
Rana grasped my outstretched hand, her grin as sharp as the edge of a knife. I hauled her up and into my arms, smiling ruefully as I found myself squeezed half to death by yet another friend. It was beyond strange, after never being held in my life until recently. This felt different from the way Sebastian wrapped his arms around me, but I couldn't dismiss the possibility that was because of differences in their upbringing and the way they approached intimacy as people. It was entirely plausible that Sebastian had been showing his relief for my wellbeing in a purely platonic way, and I'd simply misunderstood the gesture. To my surprise, the thought pained me.
"I'm glad you're alive, too," Rana said, pulling back. "We didn't know if you were going to make it."
A rueful smile traced my lips. "Someone once told me I have a knack for surviving against abysmal odds."
I didn't dare to turn around, but I could have sworn I sensed Sebastian smiling, too.