บททั้งหมดของ Elf To Tame A Werewolf: บทที่ 61 - บทที่ 70

RONNThe raveners have little in the way of kit. Nothing much to see; bags of clothes, fresh kill of deer and (surprisingly) a gazen, maps and the likes of traveling folk.It puzzles me still: how winter wolves would be this coordinated and organized. Striking without taking captives or loot. I’m not one for riddles, though. Besides, I’m grateful to them, though. The necessary distraction.The last tent Is larger than the others and has an odd smell of cheese and mothballs. I take it to be the captain’s quarters, the rather large white one that Caivan had chosen to spare. The one that killed Allos. I push his sneering face from my mind as my eyes fall on a long, silver coat laid out on a small box. ‘It fits’, Sirgil says, his yellow eyes gleaming in the darkness. ‘I’ll take your word for it’, I say and slip into the coat. Without second thought, I snatch the box as well.When I step outside, I half expect to see white shapes and fangs and more fighting. But there’s only Caivan, the ma

SAELYNA I push myself to my feet, trying to find some chunk, some sort of thread of a lie in what Quain says. ‘I don’t believe you. I don’t’. I see their faces in the hut again, the inquisitive stare Caivan and Veesa shared, the way Cyran looked properly befuddled. It must be wrong. It all is. ‘How would you know, we were kids when it all happened’, I say. He stands up as well. ‘Yes we were. But there were others, remember?’ ‘How did you know, Quain?! Why did Veesa never tell me? What…what?’ I can’t think. My thoughts scatter over my brain incoherently, memories and speculations; I drop to the rock with the heaviness of it all. Quain squats in front of me, his face level with mine. I focus on the lines etched into the untouched side of his face, on the black hair and black eyes that seem to hold so so many secrets. ‘Obviously, this wasn’t how you were supposed to find out. I doubt Veesa even wanted you to know at all….I couldn’t tell you everything while she was there, I couldn’t be

SAELYNAI finally find a spot to spend the morning alone and in silence. Around a curve in the creek, further down the plateau. The birds tweet rather sweetly here, and the air is soft and gentle. I wonder why it took me this long to find it.I drift off for a while before a strong smell penetrates my nostrils, that of smoke. I thought I’d had my fill of fires.When I trace the source, it comes from above me, on the tableland. Another funeral pyre.But it’s just Jenna. And an altar.She stands quietly, solemnly, her grey coat and dark hair billowing in the morning breeze, the smoke and smell of incense wafting around her in gentle curls. She looks serene, almost godlike in that posture, in the moment, until I remember the way her eyes had flashed and the fangs that protrude from her mouth. Wolves are not to be trusted, father would say, They give off an air of peace and certainty, like a foxan, but they cannot hide forever. Sooner or later, they’ll bite down and most times, it’s too l

68. DEPARTURE.CAIVANGylen returns with Farden and Pedran from their scout and reports the area empty. "And what about Halden?" I ask. They exchanged glances, and Farden spoke: "It was... deserted." ‘Deserted?’ I repeat, "How is that?" "Not a living soul stirred." "It was like death had struck in one night," Pedran says. I smelled them. The winter wolves like they had been in the village. But if they had, they left little in the way of blood," Gylen quips.I nod. I avoid the temptation to start speculating and connecting ropes, instead turning to Argell’s hut. "Get ready, brothers," I say, "we're headed for Tussel."Someone, most likely Veesa, has cropped his hair so that it lies close to his scalp, low and spiky. It's almost like Keilen’s. They still haven’t seen her, not since yesterday, and I don’t want to bother Father about it. Lupion, I don’t want to think about it. There’s no telling how we’ll find her, dead or alive.I shut down the ill thoughts and walk up to him, where he s

SAELYNA'Bad idea,' he says before I even finish.I throw my hands up. 'Look, I'm not asking for your permission, Quain, I'm just letting you know, so you can tell them if they come looking for us'. He shakes his head. 'You never said anything before. Gods, you healed those kids like it was nothing,' he says half shrilly. 'Not exactly, Quain. For the most part it was quite easy, but there's something else. It drains energy from our bodies. And when we…recharge…' Cyran bites a nail, a new habit he's developed. 'Well, it gets tricky. It's like I'm getting pulled in too deep'. Quain turns to me. 'And this happens to you as well?' 'Yes it does. One time, I felt Cyran drifting away and….' 'You two are still connected?' I purse my lips and run a hand through my hair. 'Focus, Quain. The point is, that's not supposed to happen, is it?' He scrunches up his face and I make his hesitation a leverage. 'Even then, we can't set the plants ablaze'. He winces almost immediately I mention "ablaze" and