8
“I don’t like it,” Erik growled. He stood with arms folded, scowling at the long carved piece of wood Yseult had left. Probably one of the “tricks” she’d left to help me, though I hadn’t offered that as an explanation as to why it appeared outside our hut in the middle of the night.
“The witch never does something without reason,” Arne said. He looked tired, more tired than he should’ve looked for simply being woken in the middle of the night. Being away from the pack was beginning to wear on all of them. “This may protect Fleur, or may not. But it is a gift, and not easily spurned.”
“She wants Fleur to face these things, to fight this ancient evil. I will die before I allow that to happen.”
Gunnr whined.
“Stop fighting.” I said. “It’s upsetting our bond.”
Erik turned away, but not
