Not All Heroes Are Guiltless

Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Well, hunting didn’t go too well. We made it to a small creek when I slipped and twisted my ankle. My voice still didn’t understand how to heal it without shifting into my wolf, and then I learned I’m not entirely sure how to shift into my wolf form again.

My mate didn’t hesitate to take care of my ankle and have me ride on him. When he came across a herd of elk not far from the creek, I jumped off and watched him move silently to stalk his prey.

He seemed to make sure he was at an angle where I could watch him carefully. I smile as I try to watch his silent form, moving closer to the herd. I know elk are typically too large for one wolf to bring down. But wolves are not usually larger than a horse.

He shuffles low on the ground to muffle his movements and keep from being seen, and then I see almost as if he was pointing the elk out specifically. I notice the limp instantly and the train of his eyes on the handicapped elk. He’s not looking at any other. He’s made his target, and it's glaring red in my view where I can now only hear the elks heartbeat and his breath.

I’m now completely aware this is not normal and start to panic, ‘Stay calm. This is one of our abilities. He’s communicating with us, and if we were hunting with him, we would know exactly his movements and decisions without a word. Lupines are able to communicate with people they have intimate relationships.’

He strikes quickly, and the elk herd is startled. The herd bolts from their grazing and scurries the opposite direction of him. But the elk he had targeted didn’t get far before the wolf snapped his neck. He stands up over his kill and watches the rest of the elk escape across a small creek with almost jester smile with his tongue lobbed out the side. After his moment, he picks up the body of the elk in his mouth and returns to me. It's almost like a kitten bringing a dead mouse to the door.

He lowers his body, and I climb on his back and, with his prize for dinner, walk back to the cabin. The night is dark, but he walks with the confidence as if he sees everything the same as he sees in the daylight. My eyes, though, still take time to adjust to the low lighting or a moonless night.

At the cabin, he moves the elk to the table to prepare it, and I go to the lantern light it and sit at one of the chairs pulled away from the table and watch him work. “You must do this often.”

“Elk is not really my first choice. A small rabbit or even a rodent can suffice me for several days. Wolf packs like elk because they can eat their fill and then offer for the benefit of the forest. Bringing an elk back and then wasting even a bite of it was grounds for you to be ostracized in lupine villages. Okay, maybe not exiled, but being labeled selfish with the gifts the gods gave you was something everyone tried to avoid.” He says while he expertly breaks down each section of the elk. “I figured we will be staying here a few more days so we can smoke what we can’t eat for the road.”

“We are leaving. Why?” I ask worriedly, but he just nods his head and then continues to work on the elk without an explanation. I dropped my head in rejection, and he wouldn’t tell me. With fascination, I admire him as I watch his hands move through each task without hesitation. Trying to hide how I am hurt, he won’t answer my questions.

‘Because he killed those pirate thugs, the Hou Ndours, when he saved you. By now, they would have found their bodies and would be searching the surrounding forest for the culprit. In a few days, they will be in this area, and an abandoned cabin in the woods will be one of the first places they check if they see it.’ My wolf says calmly. ‘Can we do the mantra now?’

I blew out the lantern, knowing my mate doesn’t need light to finish his work. I slip down to the floor and start going through the mantra my mother taught me. It takes me longer to find my center and clear my mind, but I’m wafting in a sea which reaches for me, and I’m instantly calm. The waves of the sea have always been there and been soothing.

Holding that emotion, I start to reach out mentally and find I have a wall surrounding me, and I place my hands on its cold surface. The wall is slick and grimy and makes me shiver when I touch it. I reluctantly push against it, and it's large. I can’t find the leverage while I wade in sea water.

Taking a deep breath, I let the tide relax me before I try again to push the wall again. This time, I felt movement, but I don’t know how much was done. I try to pull my hands off the wall, and they are pasted to the side of the wall. Yanking my hands quickly, I can feel my hands and wrists burn from the force. I try to seek the calm emotion from the sea tide, but it’s no longer there. Instead, the sea water is more powerful and pushes me into the wall with extreme force.

My body is flung with the incoming and outgoing tides. I try to find a way to remove my hand and keep my head above water, but nothing is working. I try to fight because I can’t give up here. This is my own mind.

Something slivers up my leg and waist almost like a serpent. I shiver and try to kick it away from me when I feel an intentional stroke as it makes its way down one of my arms. I’m able to see a black tendril wrapped around my right arm and body. I want to scream at the foreign body that is in my mind and my consciousness.

The tendril, though, is testing the wall and the junction of my hand. I try to keep my head above water that is still pushing me into the wall, but now it doesn’t hurt because the tendril is keeping me from being bruised with the motion of the sea.

I can only watch as the tendril moves around the edges of my hand and the wall. Then, like the tendril is able to control a storms very lightning, a current runs through my body, and light emits from where the tendril strikes the wall. My hands are released, and the tendril pulls me away. He wraps around me almost in an embrace.

My eyes open, and I am no longer on the floor near the table. I’m in bed. My head is cushioned on his abs, and I’m nestled into his form while he’s sitting up against the headboard. He relaxes his grasp on me when he feels me start to sit up and repositions himself and the pillows for me to sit next to him.

“Thank you. You saved me from myself.” I say with tears falling down my face. “I’m not exactly sure that was even possible.”

“It’s a spell, and it cuts deep. I can’t break it.” He says with his voice trembling. I turn to him and drop my mouth. He hasn’t shown any emotion before, and now it seems he’s hurting.

“If you teach me, could I be able to break it?” I say, hoping to help him return to his rational self.

He swallows and shakes his head. He looks up at the ceiling, and I almost want to growl because I want the answer now. His voice is a broken whisper, “The spell is deeply embedded and a tangle mess of weaves you might be able to break apart some of the spell but I don’t know what it would do or what damage it will cause.”

Who do I know that could cast something like that the way he describes it seems like someone who didn’t know much about magic like a child. They had to have been close to me.

‘We casted it.’