A Shared Wound
Night had fallen again by the time Sera found a shallow rock hollow and settled into it with her arms around her knees. The forest beyond the opening was a solid wall of dark. She turned her wrist and studied the faint circular burn that had closed over the green mark. Her fingertip traced the edge of the scar. Her jaw tightened.
It saved me, then walked away like I was nothing. Just like everyone else.
The thought was bitter and familiar. A branch snapped somewhere very close. She jerked her head toward the sound, heart leaping.
She left the hollow and stepped into a small clearing under thin moonlight. Her eyes moved constantly. A pair of yellow eyes flashed in the left-hand brush. Another pair appeared on the right. A third set glowed behind her. Three lean wolves, ribs showing, fur matted with old blood, stepped out and formed a half-circle. The nearest one peeled its lips back and growled low in its throat.
“No. No, stay back,” Sera said, retreating. The nearest wolf lunged. She fell backward and rolled aside by inches.
A roar shook the clearing. The creature crashed into the pack like a storm. Its front hoof struck one wolf and sent it flying two metres. Another wolf’s teeth sank deep into its shoulder. Dark blood soaked the silver-grey fur. The creature shook its head hard and flung the wolf free without a sound of pain. The remaining two wolves backed away, tails low, and fled into the dark.
The creature stood panting in the centre of the clearing, one shoulder torn open, blood dripping onto the leaves. Sera rose unsteadily and watched it sink onto one knee. It lifted its head and looked at her. The amber eyes were dulled with pain. Then it turned its face away and tried to stand and leave as it always did. Its front leg buckled. It fell forward onto the leaves.
“Hey, don’t. Stay still,” Sera said, running to it. The anger was gone from her voice. She knelt beside it and set both shaking hands on the bleeding bite.
She helped it toward the rock hollow, one of its front legs heavy across her shoulder. They staggered inside. The creature dropped onto the stone floor, sides heaving. Sera tore a long strip from the already ruined hem of her dress and pressed it to the wound. Her hands trembled.
“Why did you come back for me.” The words were almost a whisper, spoken more to herself than to it.
The creature’s jaw tightened under the fur, as if the question had struck deeper than the teeth. Sera’s fingers paused. Where the fur had been torn away she felt bare skin. Patches of fur on the shoulder stood up and dissolved into the dark like ash on the wind. The outline of the body shrank and softened under her hands until it was no longer a beast.
Where the animal had lain there was now a man, bare-shouldered, the same deep bite bleeding at the same place. He looked at her, breathing hard.
Sera recoiled. Her hands were still bloody. Her mouth opened but no sound came.
“Don’t,” he said. His voice was hoarse and tired. He did not meet her eyes.
“You. You’re,” she whispered, still not recovered.
He caught her wrist. His fingers shook. He drew her bloody hand back onto the wound. His gaze dropped to her mouth, then rose again and stayed. Their faces were close enough that her breath fogged in the narrow space between them. She was the one who leaned in. Their mouths met for a short, clumsy beat, unexpected even to her. He jerked away as if he had touched fire. His eyes were wide. The hand that held her wrist tightened, then let go.
His body shuddered. Shadow swallowed the human lines and stretched them back into the beast in an instant. The creature limped out of the hollow and disappeared into the dark, leaving Sera alone with the bloodied strip of cloth still in her hand.
“What are you.” She touched her lips with the same fingers that had just held the bandage. The question hung in the empty air.
She stayed where she was for a long time, the taste of the brief kiss still on her mouth and the heat of his skin under her palms fading slowly into the cold of the stone.