What? My Familiar Was Actually My Nemesis?

The wolf had both paws on my boundary map when I reached the kitchen. "Pip," I said, setting down the parcel of cedar bark, "that is the one piece of paper in this house you're not allowed to eat." He looked over his shoulder. His ears stood straight up. A thread of blue ink ran from his mouth to his chin. I had spent three years explaining boundaries to him. He'd learned which floorboards creaked, how to open the cupboard with his nose, and exactly how long he could whine before I gave him a piece of my breakfast. He had not learned the difference between a map and a chew toy. I took the map from under his paws. Pip snapped at the corner, missed, and landed sideways on the rug. His tail thumped once, as if he'd meant to do that. "You're lucky you're cute." He blinked at me with silver eyes. "I'm not giving you the cheese." His ears drooped. I lasted four seconds. By the time I tore the parcel open, Pip was asleep on my boot. The autumn rain tapped against the kitchen windows of my little cabin in Briar Glen, and a familiar peace settled over me. I'd spent the morning repairing the western ward posts. Pip had spent it following me from post to post, tripping over his own paws and demanding to be held every time thunder grumbled in the hills. He had been small when I found him. Small enough to fit inside my coat, his gray fur stiff with frost, a silver wire tangled around one hind leg. Three years later, he was still small enough to curl in the same coat pocket. That part bothered me sometimes. Wolves grew quickly. Even familiar spirits changed shape as their bond strengthened. Pip had done neither. He'd gained weight, learned to steal my gloves, and developed a love for warm laundry, but he had never grown so much as an inch. I'd taken him to every healer within a day's drive. The last one had called him "an unusual case" and charged me the price of a week's groceries to say nothing else. I'd decided not to worry about it. Then Pip woke with a growl. It was low and sharp, nothing like his usual offended yip. His body stiffened against my boot. He stared at the front door. I set down the parcel. "What is it?" A knock landed against the wood. Pip scrambled to his feet. His fur lifted along his spine. I'd seen him spook at a broom, a kettle, and once a particularly rude mushroom, but this was different. He wasn't afraid. He was furious. I opened the door with one hand on the ward charm at my throat. A woman in a dark green coat stood on the porch. Behind her, a lean man held an umbrella over a leather case. Both wore the silver wolf crest of the Voss Pack. "I'm Rowan Hale," I said. "If you're lost, the road is a quarter mile east." "We're not lost," the woman said. "I'm Mara Vale, acting clerk for the Voss Pack. We have a legal notice for the keeper of Briar Glen Sanctuary." "I'm the keeper." She passed me a folded letter. The paper smelled of smoke and cold iron. Pip pressed against my ankle, growling hard enough to make the charm at my throat vibrate. The letter claimed the Voss Pack had filed for control of the sanctuary's western ridge. It cited an old boundary agreement and gave me thirty days to present evidence of my claim. I read it twice. "The ridge is protected land." "Your protection is not recognized by the pack," Mara said. "The claim will proceed either way." Pip lunged. I caught him before he hit her boots. He twisted in my arms, teeth bared. His growl filled the porch. Mara looked down at him. For a fraction of a second, her composure broke. "Where did you get that wolf?" she asked. I held Pip tighter. "He's mine." The man behind her closed the leather case with a snap. "Then you should keep him close," he said. They walked back down the steps. Pip stayed rigid in my arms until their car disappeared between the trees. Then he pressed his face against my neck and shivered. I carried him inside and locked the door. On the kitchen table, the notice lay open beside the map he'd tried to eat. The ink on the page had blurred where his teeth had touched it. For the first time since I'd found him, I wondered if the thing I'd brought home had been pretending to be helpless.