Fangs & Fire

Chapter 7: Lost Dog

Amara stood in the kitchen, staring into the fridge, feeling a bit out of place. There was nothing to cook—just a few containers of what looked like leftovers and a freezer full of blood packs. Her stomach churned slightly at the sight, but she reminded herself that this was Dominic’s world, not hers.

As the reality of everything settled back in, she finally calmed herself. She was exhausted, her body still recovering from the emotional and physical toll of the past few days. She glanced at the clock on the wall, realizing just how early she had woken up. The sleepiness settled over her like a heavy fog.

The living room was a bit too chilly to sleep in, so she walked back into the bedroom, the soft silence of the space calming her nerves. The Alaskan king bed was massive, more than enough space for her to not feel cramped or awkward. She briefly thought about how she was still in just a shirt and underwear, but the thought was quickly drowned by fatigue.

Without overthinking it, she gently plopped back into her previous spot in the bed, cuddling under the soft covers. The warmth of the blankets and the comfort of the bed were enough to ease her, and soon, her breathing slowed as she drifted back to sleep.

Arthur woke slowly, his senses gradually returning to him. The afternoon light peeked through the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow across the room. His body was still heavy with sleep, and he tried to move but found himself pressed against something warm. He froze for a moment, his muscles tensing instinctively at the unexpected contact.

It wasn’t until he shifted slightly that he realized Amara was spooning him in her sleep, her body curled up behind him, seeking his warmth. Her arm draped over his side, and her leg was tangled with his, pulling them closer despite the difference in their sizes. The weight of her touch, though light, felt like an anchor in the quiet room.

At first, he was stunned—he had no idea how they’d ended up like this. But as he lay there, his body gradually relaxing, he couldn’t help but notice the way her breath was steady against his back, slow and rhythmic, as if she found solace in the proximity. She seemed completely unaware, her subconscious seeking his warmth, a small act of vulnerability that felt entirely out of place in his world.

For a long moment, Arthur stayed still, his heart rate slowing as he processed the situation. He could feel the soft rise and fall of her chest against his back, the slight pressure of her arm around him. There was a strange peace in the moment, an intimacy that he hadn’t allowed himself to experience in years.

Despite the discomfort of being the “small spoon” for once, he felt oddly comforted by her presence. She was gentle in her sleep, and the tension that usually gripped him began to ease as he adjusted to the strange feeling of being held.

The silence of the room surrounded them, punctuated only by Amara’s soft, gentle snores. For a second, Arthur allowed himself to close his eyes, his breath evening out. It felt natural, even though it shouldn’t have. He didn’t want to admit it, but he enjoyed the closeness, the warmth that she so easily sought from him. It had been a long time since someone had trusted him like this, and it left him with an unfamiliar, almost comforting weight on his chest.

Arthur shifted slightly, carefully turning onto his back, trying not to disturb Amara. His body tensed, but he remained as still as possible, focusing on not waking her. As he adjusted, he felt her body shift along with his, still clinging to him instinctively.

In her sleep, Amara adjusted, laying her head on his chest, her face pressing against the soft skin of his pectoral muscle. Her arms wrapped around his waist, and her legs coiled tighter around him as if seeking to hold onto the warmth he was offering.

Arthur froze, his chest tightening slightly, though not from discomfort. He could feel her soft breath against his skin, and her weight felt surprisingly comforting. He didn’t move, letting her settle more securely against him, feeling her body mold to his. The sensation of her trusting him so completely left him with a strange, almost foreign warmth, but he didn’t want to acknowledge it, didn’t want to admit how good it felt to have her so close.

Her gentle weight on him made him feel a sense of protectiveness stir within him. Despite the unusual intimacy of the situation, he remained perfectly still, letting her sleep peacefully, not wanting to disrupt the moment. The quiet rise and fall of her chest in sync with his own seemed to ease the tension that had built up inside him, and for the first time in what felt like ages, he allowed himself to simply be.

Arthur had dozed off in the moment, his body relaxed for the first time in a long while. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but the warmth of Amara’s presence against him had lulled him into a peaceful state. The steady rhythm of her breathing and the feeling of her arms around him had a calming effect he hadn’t expected.

But that peace was shattered in an instant.

Amara suddenly screamed in shock, her voice breaking through the calm like a blade. Arthur shot up immediately, fully alert, his instincts on high. His gaze scanned the room for any sign of danger, his muscles tense and ready to react. But all he could focus on was the panic in Amara’s voice.

“What the hell is it?” he muttered, his body still poised for action.

When he finally focused on her, he saw the panic in her eyes, her hands trembling as she scrambled away from him. She was sitting up now, staring at him in wide-eyed horror.

“How did that happen?!” she demanded, her voice laced with shock.

Arthur blinked, still trying to shake off the grogginess of the moment. His mind slowly caught up with what was happening.

Amara had somehow ended up tangled up on top of him in her sleep, and it had clearly freaked her out. He sighed, rolling his eyes as he rubbed a hand over his face.

“I didn’t do it,” he said flatly, his voice laced with mock irritation. “Thanks for ruining the best sleep I’ve had in years.”

Amara, still in full-on panic mode, began rocking back and forth, clearly overwhelmed by the situation. She ignored his comment, her face flushed with embarrassment as she rambled apologies.

“I’m so sorry!” she said repeatedly, her voice shaky. “I didn’t mean to— I didn’t know how I ended up— I’m so sorry for tangling myself on you like that!”

Arthur leaned back, trying to suppress his grin despite the awkwardness of the situation. He wasn’t used to this kind of vulnerability from someone, especially not from a stranger like Amara. Her embarrassment was almost endearing, but he wasn’t about to let her off the hook too easily. Arthur shook his head, his lips curling into a grin as he scooped Amara up in one swift motion and plopped her back onto the bed. She barely had time to react before he spoke again, his voice unbothered.

“Calm down,” he said dryly, his expression a mix of amusement and mild exasperation. “Now do whatever you did again, I wanna go back to sleep.”

Amara stared at him in stunned silence, her face turning her usual pale skin a deep beet red. She could hardly believe what was happening. Was he seriously asking her to curl up against him again?

Arthur, noticing her complete shock, struggled to stifle a laugh but ultimately gave in, letting out a small chuckle before stalking off into the bathroom.

“Or not,” he said over his shoulder, his voice filled with mock nonchalance. “I’m hungry.”

Amara’s heart still raced as she tried to compose herself. She remembered the fridge was nearly empty, and her face burned even hotter. Out of sheer embarrassment, she quickly came up with an excuse.

“I can go get groceries, I’ll be right back,” she muttered, getting off the bed and dressing as quickly as she could, hoping to escape before he came out of the bathroom. The last thing she wanted was to deal with him while feeling this flustered.

But just as she was about to exit the bedroom, Arthur’s voice called out from the bathroom.

“You’re not leaving on your own,” he said firmly. “I’m coming with you.”

Dominic was still in the middle of a phone call when he noticed Arthur and Amara preparing to leave. With a subtle flick of his wrist, he handed Arthur his black Amex and the security details.

Arthur snatched it with a grin, a gleam of mischievous delight in his eyes. He gave a little gleeful hop, clearly amused by the situation, before stepping into the elevator. He turned to Dominic and took a playful bow, his grin widening.

Dominic just stood there, shaking his head with a slight smirk. He gives her a playful wink as soon as the elevator doors close.

The doors shut before anything else could be said, and Dominic exhaled a low sigh, half-amused and half-exasperated.

“Okay, I haven’t known you very long, but gauging your personality so far, you’re never gonna let me—” Amara began, trying to gather her thoughts, but she was immediately interrupted by Arthur hovering over her, his large frame blocking out the light. He had that smug grin on his face, the one she was beginning to recognize as one of his signature expressions.

“So you were cold this morning, weren’t you?” he asked, his voice low and teasing, with just a hint of playfulness.

Amara blinked, taken aback by the sudden proximity. She hadn’t expected him to approach so boldly, especially not after their earlier, somewhat awkward interactions.

Her heart skipped a beat, but she quickly recovered, crossing her arms in front of her chest and trying to maintain a sense of control. “Cold?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Arthur’s grin widened, clearly enjoying the way she tried to play it cool. “I’m just saying,” he said, leaning in just slightly, “you seemed to need a little warmth earlier. Couldn’t help but notice.”

Amara’s face flushed again, the heat rising to her cheeks as she tried to deflect the conversation. She quickly shifted topics, focusing on something more neutral. “Okay, fine. What do you want to eat?” she asked, trying to change the subject and regain some semblance of control over the conversation.

Arthur, however, wasn’t having it. He ignored her question entirely, his smirk growing. “Werewolves produce more heat than humans,” he said casually, before grabbing her hand and pressing it against his side as they exited the building, down the side walk.

Even through his shirt, Amara could feel the heat radiating off him, intense and almost overwhelming. It was a stark contrast to the cold, unfeeling touch of Dominic she had experienced earlier. Her body flushed with warmth, and she instinctively yanked her hand back, her face turning an even deeper shade of red.

Arthur laughed, clearly enjoying her reaction. “Guess you feel the difference now, huh?” he teased, his grin widening as he looked down at her with that same mischievous glint in his eyes.

Amara, still flustered, tried to regain her composure. “I can make anything,” she said, her voice a little more strained than she intended. She wasn’t going to let him get away with teasing her so easily.

Arthur leaned in a little, his voice dripping with teasing affection. “You already want to cook for me?” The comment pushed her to the edge.

“Cut it out!” Amara barked, a mix of frustration and embarrassment bubbling up inside her. She shoved him, but he was too dense to move, his body solid and unmoving. The force of her push made her stumble backward, and before she could catch herself, she felt her feet slip.

Arthur reacted instinctively, his arm shooting out in a flash, catching her before she could trip into the road. The sharp screech of tires filled the air as a car zoomed past them, just missing her.

“Careful,” Arthur said, his voice surprisingly gentle, though the humor still lingered in it. He gazed down at her, meeting her completely embarrassed and angry expression.

Amara glared at him, her cheeks burning. “I didn’t do it,” he added with a grin, as if his involvement in the situation wasn’t already clear.

After a short walk, they arrived at a cozy little bagel shop nestled around the corner. Dominic’s place was conveniently situated in a part of New York that boasted some of the best corner stores for breakfast, and the bagels here were known to be a local favorite. The warm smell of fresh bagels and coffee wafted through the air as Amara followed Arthur inside.

She slid into one of the corner booths, letting out a soft sigh as she settled into the comfortable chair. The quaint shop had a relaxed, almost nostalgic feel to it. Amara watched as Arthur went up to the counter to place their order. He was a regular here, the staff greeting him with easy familiarity.

When Arthur finally sat down with their food, he placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of her. Amara looked at the bagel and coffee before raising an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. She hadn’t had the chance to ask much earlier, but now that they were alone, she wanted to know more about the two men she’d been tangled up with.

She couldn’t help but start digging into their history. “So, you and Dominic, how did you two end up like… this?” she asked, gesturing between the two of them. “Why didn’t you reach out to each other before now?”

Arthur shrugged, a nonchalant look crossing his face. He took a bite of his bagel before giving her a glance. “A lot of things don’t need to be said,” he said with a vague shrug. “We’ve been through some s**t. No need for unnecessary conversations.”

Amara leaned in, trying to pry a little deeper. “But you guys were on the same side, right? You fought together?”

Arthur’s response was another shrug, though there was a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. “You could say that,” he replied cryptically. “But time’s changed a lot of things, and we both ended up on different paths.”

Amara watched as Arthur devoured two huge cream cheese and lox bagels, his appetite seeming almost endless. He already had a stack of four more waiting beside him, a far cry from her own more modest breakfast. She couldn’t help but glance at him, her thoughts momentarily drifting to Dominic—how he had dedicated centuries to medical work, healing and helping people across the world. And yet, Arthur had gone out of his way to help her, a stranger, without asking for anything in return.

Curiosity gnawed at her as she observed him. There was so much she didn’t know about either of them, especially about the dynamic between Arthur and Dominic.

She gathered her thoughts before asking, “What do you mean by different?”

Arthur scoffed, taking another large bite of his bagel. He chewed thoughtfully before answering, his mouth still half full. “Isn’t it obvious?” he said, his tone casual, but there was something in the way he said it—something in the way his eyes darted briefly toward the window, avoiding her gaze.

Amara paused, waiting for him to elaborate, but he didn’t seem eager to offer more. Her curiosity continued to grow, her mind racing as she tried to piece together the puzzle of Arthur and Dominic’s past. She took a slow breath before asking, her voice softer this time, tinged with the weight of the question.

“Did something happen in those following years after the war? Something you saw?”

Arthur paused, the sound of his chewing slowing down for just a moment. He glanced up from his bagels, his eyes narrowing slightly. The shift in his expression was subtle, but Amara caught it. He didn’t answer right away, as if carefully considering the words he would say—or more likely, the ones he wouldn’t.

His gaze flickered for a moment, his mind clearly drifting somewhere distant, and then he shrugged nonchalantly, taking another bite. “We’ve all seen too much. Doesn’t matter now.”

Amara wasn’t satisfied with his answer, but she could tell he wasn’t going to elaborate. His unwillingness to share more only left her with more questions, but she held her tongue, sensing that pressing further might not be the best choice.

Arthur shook his head after finishing the last of his bagels, leaving behind a stack of foil balls that once held the food. He wiped his mouth, then looked over at Amara with a teasing grin.

“You really know how to jump the gun, don’t you? Is that a woman thing?” he said, the amusement in his voice clear as he stood up to clean his mess.

Amara’s eyes narrowed at his comment, but she couldn’t help the slight smile that tugged at her lips. “Is it?” she shot back, half-mockingly. She finished her last bite, rubbing her eyes, and stood up to follow him.

Arthur didn’t seem to notice her hesitation, already tossing the crumpled foil into the trash with a decisive motion. Amara moved to the sink, her mind still turning over his words. The way he’d teased her about jumping ahead, it reminded her of how unpredictable he could be, just like Dominic—two men, each with their own quirks, pulling her in different directions.

After a brief, thoughtful silence, Arthur suggested they take a walk for the afternoon, still not addressing any of the questions Amara had asked earlier. She wasn’t sure if she should apologize for pushing too hard, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that Arthur wasn’t interested in discussing the past just yet. He walked ahead, his eyes focused on the horizon, his posture relaxed but distant.

Her mind kept wandering back to the mysteries she had yet to unravel about Arthur and Dominic, but before she could bring herself to speak, Arthur suddenly stopped, his hand outstretched, subtly signaling for her to halt.

He pointed, his finger tracing an invisible line in the air toward something in the distance.

“Look over there,” he said, his tone low, almost reverent. Amara squinted, seeing nothing but a faint puff of smoke rising from the ground. It didn’t look like anything out of the ordinary at first glance.

Arthur’s eyes stayed trained on the smoke, his voice quiet but clear. “That’s a wisp nymph,” he explained, his gaze unblinking as he continued, “Hiding in plain sight.”

Amara’s brow furrowed as she watched the stream of smoke. It didn’t seem to be rising like steam—it was more deliberate, like it had its own purpose. Then, almost as if it had been waiting for her to notice, a second wisp of smoke separated from the stream, curling into the air before dissipating into nothingness.

“See?” Arthur’s voice broke her concentration, and she turned her attention back to him. “Most people wouldn’t even notice. That’s how they survive.”

Amara stood frozen for a moment, her thoughts racing. Wisp nymphs? She hadn’t heard of them before, but seeing one in person—well, it left her with more questions than answers.

Amara turned to Arthur, her curiosity piqued by what she had just witnessed. “How many more mystics are left?” she asked, her voice a little tentative. It felt strange to talk about such things as if they were still real, especially with everything that had happened.

Arthur’s eyes darkened slightly as he looked down at the ground, his footsteps slowing as he thought for a moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was low. “Dominic and I spent years scouring the Earth,” he began, his tone carrying a weight that seemed to hang in the air. “We found a few—elemental nymphs, tree sprites, satyrs. It’s not what it used to be. There’s still quite a few lingering around, hidden, trying to survive.”

He exhaled a quiet sigh and continued, his words growing more bitter. “All the civilization-building races, like the elves, dwarves, polymorphs, sirens… they were wiped out by the war. The world’s different now. It’s mostly humans and whatever’s left of the mystics, and those are few and far between.”

Amara caught the faint winced expression that flickered over Arthur’s face when he said elves, and she felt a tightness in her chest. For a moment, she almost asked him about it, but something held her back.

Instead, her mind wandered to a question that had been gnawing at her since she started learning about the history of the war. Did Arthur or Dominic lose anyone they cared about—aside from family?

She bit her lip, suppressing the intrusive question. It didn’t feel like the right time to ask, but she couldn’t help but wonder how much more they had lost—how much they had sacrificed.

Amara was mid-thought, reflecting on their conversation about the mystical world, when suddenly a cold, firm grip seized her wrist. Her body tensed, the suddenness of it freezing her in place. Her head snapped to the side, her eyes widening in shock as she found herself face-to-face with a man dressed in a dark trench coat, his lapels turned up, his hat pulled low, obscuring his features.

Her heart raced, but it was the ice-cold sensation of his hand around her wrist that threw her off guard. The chill sent an involuntary shiver down her spine, a familiar, unsettling feeling that reminded her far too much of Dominic’s touch—but far colder. She swallowed hard, trying to steady herself, but her mind raced with the realization of who this man might be.

Before she could gasp or react, the man’s low, gravelly voice cut through the air. “Don’t scream,” he warned, his words dark with malice. “If you do, everyone around us will die.”

Amara’s eyes frantically scanned the street, the bustling midday crowd around them completely unaware of the looming danger. She quickly turned to Arthur, who was still walking ahead of her, oblivious to the threat.

The man’s grip tightened, his eyes boring into hers as if daring her to test him.

In a sudden, shocking movement, the man’s cold fingers tightened on her wrist, and with an unnatural strength, he yanked her off the ground, launching her into the air with an effortless, fluid motion. It was too fast for any human to track, like a blur of motion that left Amara’s stomach flipping as she soared through the air, disoriented and terrified.

Arthur stood there, his thoughts trailing off as he tried to piece together the fragments of his past that had been bubbling to the surface. The street around him buzzed with the usual chaos, but his mind felt far away, consumed by memories of the war, of loss, and the paths he and Dominic had crossed in those dark days.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the words hung in the air for a moment. “There was someone…” he began a confession, but the rest of the sentence faltered, realizing a missing scent. His gaze wandered, momentarily lost in the sea of people around him.

Then, something shifted.

The connection that had grounded him slipped away, and he instinctively turned, his body moving with the speed and precision of a predator.

His eyes scanned the crowd quickly, locking onto the spots where Amara’s scent had been most distinct. It had been strong just moments ago, a mixture of warm, sweet floral notes that clung to the air like a signature. But now, the trail had vanished, and his heart skipped a beat.

She was gone.

His movements were swift and practiced as he darted between pedestrians, his eyes scanning for any sign of her. The calm façade of the street was a stark contrast to the panic swelling within him.

Where was she?

Arthur’s frustration mounted as he followed Amara’s scent through the crowded streets, his sharp senses leading him in a clear direction. But then, suddenly, it all stopped. The trail vanished as abruptly as it had appeared, leaving him with only a lingering sense of unease and a growing knot in his stomach.

He stood still for a moment, his mind racing. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the area around him, but there was no sign of her. No one seemed to be paying attention, the world oblivious to the danger that had just unfolded in broad daylight.

Something took her.

Arthur growled under his breath, the sound barely contained, a low, guttural rumble that only those with keen hearing could catch. His fists clenched, his body tense with the need to pursue. But the scent was gone, lost amidst the human chaos, leaving him with only one conclusion: she hadn’t been taken on the ground.

Without hesitation, he pulled his phone from his pocket, dialing Dominic’s number with a sharp press of his thumb. The phone rang once, twice, before Dominic answered, his voice calm, but there was a sense of urgency in Arthur’s tone that couldn’t be ignored.

“Dominic,” Arthur said, his voice laced with frustration and anger. “She’s gone. I was just walking, talking, and then… I turned around and she vanished. Someone took her, I’m on the move now.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line. Dominic didn’t respond right away, but Arthur could practically feel the shift in the air as his ally processed the situation.

“Where are you?” Dominic asked, his voice sharper now, alert.

“Near 15th and Madison,” Arthur responded quickly, already starting to move. “The trail stopped, but I’m betting they took her up—they didn’t go any further on the ground.”

Before Dominic could respond, Arthur ended the call, his eyes flashing a dangerous gold as his body began to shift. His limbs lengthened, and muscles rippled beneath his skin as his senses sharpened to a primal edge. He couldn’t afford to waste any more time.

In an instant, Arthur leapt upward, his powerful legs propelling him toward the rooftops. His fingers extended, claws scraping against the brick of nearby buildings as he scaled the structure with ease, his wolf senses guiding him through the urban jungle. Each footfall echoed against the buildings as he bounded up, his eyes locked on the rooftops ahead.

The scent was faint, but it was there—familiar, sweet, and tinged with the same sharpness that had drawn him to Amara in the first place. He followed the trail, his heightened sense of smell honing in on the path as he reached the rooftops.

He wasn’t sure what to expect, but he knew one thing for sure: whoever had taken her was no ordinary human. They had the ability to move fast, to hide in plain sight, and Arthur’s heart pounded in his chest as he pushed forward.

The trail led him to an empty construction site on the outskirts of the city. The skeletal remains of unfinished buildings loomed over him, the air thick with the scent of dust and abandoned materials. Arthur’s hackles raised as he surveyed the area, his senses on high alert.

This was where the trail stopped, and Arthur could feel it—the ominous presence of something dark in the air. The construction site was deserted, but the silence felt too heavy, too unnatural. He moved cautiously through the debris, his steps light and calculated.

Arthur froze, his instincts telling him something was horribly wrong. He’d been scanning the construction site, trying to make sense of the situation when he heard her.