Wolf’s Bane and Roses
“I told him he lost me. I told him I could walk away. But here I am, still breathing his name in my chest.”
The horse slowed as we reached the deeper thicket. Trees leaned like old giants, their branches clutching at my cloak. I dismounted, clutching Roses tight, my boots sinking into wet soil. The stream’s scent still clung to me, but it wouldn’t last. I had to wash Nightbane off me completely, or the wolves would find me.
I kissed the crown of Roses’ head, forcing myself to keep moving. “Do you hear that, little fox?” I called her that sometimes now, though I didn’t know why. “Crickets. Owls. All of them are watching. Even the shadows know we’re running.”
Bab Populer