Chapter 15

Alanza’s POV

“You really don’t care about the boxes, huh?”

I stroked the soft, thick fur on Sombra’s head. She was a silver shadow against the pale gray of the couch. Most dogs would be sniffing every cardboard edge, but she just watched the window, or me. She acted like this messy, half-unpacked apartment was already her normal.

“I just moved in, you know,” I mumbled. My voice felt like sandpaper. “Haven’t had a chance to unpack everything.”

It was weird talking to a dog like this, like she could actually understand the excuse. But the sound of my own voice helped. It made the room less silent. Sombra tipped her head, her sharp, light blue eyes locked on my face. She looked like she was listening hard.

“You’re a good listener,” I said, managing a small, tired smile despite the chills that ran through my back. “Maybe I should keep you.”

The thought was a warm blanket. Having company right now, especially when the fever made me feel so weak, was tempting. It was nice.

No. I had to be smart about this.

I let my head fall back onto the cushion. My hand stayed on Sombra, my fingers rubbing behind her ears. The fever was definitely making my brain fuzzy. Considering keeping a dog I couldn’t afford, talking to her like a person.

It’s just the sickness talking, I decided. The delirium.

“I must be losing it,” I muttered, closing my eyes. “Next thing, I’ll be having full conversations with the ceiling fan.”

Sombra made a soft, questioning sound. A little whine. I cracked one eye open.

“Don’t worry. I’m not that far gone yet,” I told her. A wry smile pulled at my lips. “If I start trying to offer the sofa a cup of coffee, though, feel free to bite me.”

She thumped her tail once against the cushion. I swore I saw a flash of something like amusement in those blue eyes. Or maybe I was just used to seeing too much human soul in wolf bodies. I closed my eyes again. The medicine had to be kicking in soon.

“Thanks for the company,” I whispered. My words felt thick and slow. “You’re a real good dog, Sombra. A real good dog.”

I woke up with something pointy digging into my butt cheek. I opened my eyes. The good news: no dreams. The aches in my muscles were much softer now. Better still, there was a heavy, warm weight resting right on my feet.

Aside from the sudden pressure point in my rear, I felt a lot better.

I shoved my hand between the couch cushions, searching blindly. My fingers hit something cold and hard. I pulled it out.

I squinted at it in the dim light of the living room. It was a slender crystal, deep purple, tapered sharply at both ends. It hung from a thin, elegant gold chain. For a second, a quick tingle sparked in my fingertips, then vanished.

Weird.

Where did this thing come from? I had never seen it before. Had it been wedged in the couch forever? Did it fall out of one of Mrs. Elkins’ moving boxes?

Still groggy, I fumbled for my phone on the coffee table. I almost knocked over the glass of water. The screen flared, blinding me with the time: 10:37 AM. Thank goodness I had called in sick yesterday.

I snapped a quick, blurry photo of the purple crystal and sent it to my landlord.

$$AVA: Found this in my couch. Is it yours?$$

A soft sound drew my eyes to the other end of the couch. Sombra lifted her head. Her icy blue eyes fixed on me with that strange intelligence. Her ears flicked, taking in every sound.

“Hey, girl.” My voice was still raw. When I ran my fingers through her fur, she leaned her heavy head right into my touch. Her tail started a slow thumping rhythm against the cushions.

My phone buzzed immediately.

$$MRS. ELKINS: No, dear, that’s not mine. Never seen it. Are you feeling better? Please get some rest today.$$

How strange. It must have just been knocked loose from a deep, forgotten corner of the couch during my fever-fueled tossing and turning.

$$AVA: I’m much better. I should be at work tomorrow. Thanks, Mrs. E.$$

Her quick concern gave me a little lift. I pushed myself up off the couch. Sombra let out a little grunt as I moved.

“Sorry, girl. Nature calls me.”

I looked at the dog. Dogs had to go, too. A sudden wave of worry hit me. If I let her out, she might just run away. But she wasn't mine to keep, anyway. She was just a temporary guest.

I kneeled down, looking her straight in the eyes.

“Listen. I’m going to let you out to potty. If you come back, I’ll keep you. But if you leave, I’m calling Animal Control again. They’ll come get you. Understand?”

Her blue eyes blinked, clear and honest.

What am I doing? Reasoning with a husky was pointless. Too many years spent with the wolves.

I shook my head to clear the thought. I peeked out the front door first. The hallway was empty, as expected. I didn’t feel that constant, itchy sensation of being watched anymore, either.

“Go on, girl. Get it done.”

The silver dog trotted out the door. She let out a small, almost disdainful huff, then glanced back at me over her shoulder before bouncing down the stairs.

I left the door propped open a few inches. A giant, soft part of me did not want to miss her if she came back quickly. I rushed to the bathroom, desperate to feel clean and human again.

The movement cleared my head, even as my skin broke out in a quick cold sweat. Still sick, but improving fast.

When I was done with my morning routine, Sombra was back. She was inside the apartment, already sniffing the carpet near the kitchen. I pushed the door shut, a smile spreading across my face.

“That’s it. You’re mine now, okay?” I said. She had made the choice. “But I still need to get you food. And a leash. And a collar.” I frowned. All that stuff cost money I didn’t have right now.

She snorted, then dropped to the floor and rolled onto her back, her feet up in the air. She wanted a scratch.

Despite the remaining chills, I felt a rush of energy. I was actually bouncing a little on the balls of my feet.

Making breakfast didn't slow me down. I shared the plate of eggs and instant pancakes with Sombra. She devoured them like she hadn’t eaten in days.

When I tried to leave the apartment for the pet store, she let out a loud, sharp scream. It sounded exactly like a frightened child. No matter how many times I tried to calm her and distract her, the screams just kept coming as soon as I opened the door.

Fine.

I clipped the door shut and grabbed my keys again. I let her follow me, collarless and leashless. I just prayed no one would stop me before I got to the corner store.

When we stepped into the small market, a young clerk by the door gave me a long, dirty look. I hurried down the aisles, snatching a bright red leash and a matching collar as soon as I saw them. I managed to clip them onto Sombra and attach the leash before I even got to the dog food. I felt slightly less like a criminal.

I walked toward the pet aisle. Just as I got there, an older man stepped in front of me. He lowered himself and started making soft cooing sounds at Sombra.

Sombra lifted her head, her lips pulling back slightly. A low growl rumbled deep in her chest.

“Hey, careful,” I warned, pulling on the leash. “She doesn’t know you.”

The old man barely glanced at me. He kept his eyes on the dog, completely ignoring her warning.

“Well, hello there, little star,” the man said in a soft, gravelly voice. He reached out a hand toward her snout. “You look like you’ve been on a long journey.”