Chapter Three

“Did you call me a dog?” Hunter was staring at her.

“Um, yes? I haven’t been allowed around animals or polymorphs, so I am respecting what you are presenting as.” She bit her lip. “Is that incorrect?”

He growled and muttered, “That is politically correct, but I am not a dog. I am a wolf.”

“I apologize, but nice wolfy has an odd ring to it.”

“Just call me sir, my lord, or Hunter. You are Orla, and what is your last name?”

“Lerothian. Orla Rhea Lerothian.”

He paused and stared at her.

She looked down at her shredded leathers and the green sweater on her arm. “I would ask if something was wrong, but your face says it definitely is.”

“The Lerothians are vile.”

“Yes. We are.” She shrugged.

Hunter paused. “You count yourself in their number?”

“I wear the name and was raised in their house, so yes.” She moved her left arm across her exposed abdomen.

“But you have no magic.”

“No. I was never able to access it. I can feel it, but it won’t come to me.”

“But you can read grimoires?”

“Sure. I can think of all the spells, but I can’t make them do anything.” She plucked at the sweater.

She looked at his leather breastplate covering his chest and the white fur-covered arms ending in claws that had taken chunks out of her leathers. He looked like he could claw her apart while ripping her throat out. He seemed to be a multitasker.

Orla waited for a moment and said, “Do you want to send me back? I am pretty sure I can give my brother a run for his money now. Not that it would be a fair fight.”

He cocked his head, and she just wanted to stroke his white fur. “Why would it not be a fair fight?”

“He has always been stronger. Not just because he’s bigger, but he’s the most powerful one in the family.”

“I see.” He paused and then said, “Wash and dress. I will speak with you later.”

She nodded and said softly, “Thanks for getting me out of the arena. The guys there were... forthright.”

His fur stood up slightly. “How so?”

“Never mind. It doesn’t matter. Nothing happened, so nothing will happen.”

His tail lashed, and it definitely wasn’t a wag.

“How do you deal with that attached to your butt?” she blurted out.

He paused. “It isn’t. It is an extension of my spine. But in actuality, it is a projection of my magic. Why are you so interested in my tail?”

She shrugged. “I have no idea. I just keep staring at you like I am going to see something different.”

Hunter chortled. “You have good instincts.”

“Um, thank you.” Orla looked around. “Do I put this stuff back on again? At the arena, I had a smock and loose trousers.”

He sighed and flicked his fingers. A dress and outer garment formed over her arm. “Those are temporary until something more permanent can be obtained.”

She nodded and looked around. “And the bathing room?”

“Over there.” He gestured with his muzzle.

“Okay. Thank you.”

He turned and walked away, his tail half raised and swaying as he walked. She watched as he left the room, did a quick sweep of the bed, desk and huge window, and then she headed for a shower.

It wasn’t a shower but a bath, but she quickly scrubbed up and washed her hair. She got out before the water would turn to ice or mud or blood. Her brother had been creative and twisted.

Orla towelled off and put the dress on before shrugging into the robe. It was surprisingly comfy. She found a brush and worked it through her hair. She flicked it behind her and walked out into the main room.

Orla sat at the foot of the bed and waited. She remained there, motionless, for hours until a servant came in looking for her.

“Miss? Lord Winter wishes you to join him in the library.” The young man looked surprised to see her there.

“Oh. Thank you. Will you lead the way?” She rose to her feet.

“Of course, miss.” He nodded and gestured toward the door.

Orla left the room and waited in the hall. The servant closed her door and walked further into the structure. The halls were pretty with a pearly sheen. The relief on the walls was a depiction of wolves running in the curls of wind with bright snowflakes. It was very pretty, and she found it soothing. Winter had always covered darkness for her. The snow caught every hint of light and held it.

The room she was shown to was a library and some kind of lab. There were dozens and dozens of brightly coloured fluids on shelves on one wall, and all other walls were covered with magic books.

Orla looked around. “Oohhh.”

Hunter walked in and asked the servant, “Where did you find her?”

“In her room, sir.”

“Her room?”

Orla shrugged. “You didn’t say I was free to leave, so I just waited.”

“Waited?”

“Yes. I sat down and didn’t touch anything, and I waited.”

“How long were you going to wait?”

“My personal best is three days.”

Hunter frowned. “Why?”

“Gren had wired my door to blow if I touched it, and my window overlooked jagged rocks. I had to wait for my mother to get home from her family funeral. She got me out and fed me.”

Hunter closed his eyes and nodded. “How old were you?”

“Twelve.”

“How old was your brother?”

“Seventeen.”

Hunter opened his eyes. “How old are you now?”

“Thirty-one.”

“What do you do in the mortal realm?”

“I work for a custom furniture company. I talk to clients, go through design books, and get them in touch with the shop when needed. I then compare all the invoices and make sure that we have the right materials in at the right time.”

“So, you are in customer service.”

“Yes.” She shrugged. “I can’t do anything else.”

The servant left. Hunter beckoned for her to sit at one of the tables that had small vials and flasks on it with a burner. “Why not?”

“My brother has me cursed. I can’t rise above my station . I tried once. I was promoted to store manager. My apartment caught fire, and a garbage container crushed my car.”

His eyes widened. “I see. That narrows it down.”

She sat straight with her hands in her lap. “Narrows what down?”

“I would like to analyze you.”

She felt a surge of panic and knotted her fingers together. She didn’t know why she had left the sweater in her room, but she wanted it now. “It’s going to hurt?”

He blinked in surprise. “No. It is done on your hair. I just need you to pull two strands off your head. I will do the rest.”

“Oh. Okay.”

She reached up and pulled out a few strands. “I got four. Is that okay?”

He huffed in amusement. “It’s fine. Thank you.” He extended his clawed hand and took the strands on a claw tip. He tucked them into a flask and selected a few vials, pouring a swirling silver, glowing pink, and hot purple into it.

He muttered and chanted. His canine mouth blew cool air over the flask, and a cloud began to roil upward and out of the flask. The cloud hovered over the flask. When it became an orb, Hunter stared at it. An icon formed in the orb, and Orla recognized it. It was a warlock clan identification. It was very familiar, but she couldn’t place it.

A second clan appeared and hovered next to the first.

Hunter nodded. “Thought so. That explains a little. Well, it explains a lot.” The furry man chuckled.

The ring on her pinky was warm. She looked at him. “Do you want the ring back? I don’t need it as a marker anymore.”

He looked at her. “May I see what form it took?”

She held it up to him. He held her hand gently and huffed softly. “That explains so much.”

“It sounds like you are having an educational afternoon.”

He paused and lowered her hand. “One more thing.”

He turned and used a pipette to withdraw a few drops of dark red liquid before dropping it into the flask.

A screaming black skull lunged out of the flask, and Hunter huffed at it, freezing it. The skull disappeared in a puff of snowflakes.

“A blood curse definitely binds you. That is certain. I can negate it from here temporarily, or I can deal with it now.”

“How?”

“Blood. You will need to get blood from your sibling, and with that, the curse can be broken.” He smiled. “Fortunately, his blood is already here.”

She blinked. “What?”

“This will hurt a tiny bit.” He took her hand, and his claw jabbed forward with the speed she had seen in the arena.

He used a clean pipette to take the blood welling in her palm, and his eyes smiled. “Well done.”

He took the blood and set the pipette in a stone bowl before gathering other ingredients.

Orla looked at the blood on her hand, shrugged, and then licked the puncture. She didn’t know what he was doing, but at least she could breathe this time.

He returned to the table and nodded. “You share blood with your brother, so this will work. It breaks the curse attached to the blood, so it goes both ways. You will be free, and he will get a hangover from all of the energy he has used that was yours.”

“So, what happens with the energy that goes back to me?”

He chortled. “You will get a pleasant buzz from the returning magic.”

“Oh. Good, I guess. I don’t drink, so I guess I will find out what a buzz is.”

He focused on the bowl, adding specific counts in measure. “Why is that?”

She watched him lift the pipette and smiled. “My mother said it was in my blood. I was her little fallen star wrapped in her skin.”

His head jerked up. “Fallen star?”

She watched a series of drops hit the bowl he was working on. She was thrown backward and hit the bookshelf hard. Light danced behind her eyes, and when she opened them, everything was glowing. Her head pounded, and she touched the back of her skull. There was blood, which wasn’t a surprise.

Orla stared at it, and the crimson turned to gold and turned to dust. The pain in her head faded. “Oh, wow. I am never getting drunk.”

Her ears were still ringing, and Hunter came to her, his fur scorched and eyes worried. “Orla, are you all right?”

She nodded slowly. “Your tail isn’t wagging.”

“No. I didn’t know you packed so much power.”

“I don’t. I never used it, and then, it was gone.”

He carefully lifted her to her feet and sniffed. “Blood?”

“I hit my head hard. It seems to be fixed.”

“Let me see.” He turned her and touched her head. “It has healed, but it needs to be cleaned.” He picked her up and set her on the table, selecting a silvery blue vial from the wall with a nod.

Hunter cupped her neck and eased her back. He poured the vial over her head, which tingled and made her toes wiggle in her shoes. “Oh. That feels nice.”

He nodded and helped her sit up. “It has set your hair to its natural colour. You had been suppressed under that muddy brown.”

“Oh. Nice. What colour is it now?”

He slid his hand through her hair and pulled a lock over her shoulder. “Here it is.”

She looked down and barked a laugh. “Is this golden white?”

“There is a rainbow tint in it as well, but yes, it is white.”

“Neat. It will take some getting used to.”

“And your eyes are white gold.”

Orla blinked. “What?”

“Your eyes have turned pale gold.”

“Damn. Now I need to update my driver’s license.”

Hunter chuckled. “That’s it?”

“What?”

“Women consider their hair their crowning glory.” He stroked it, and little sparkles came out of it. “I can see the point.”

“I am thinking of shaving it once I know I am free of my family.”

Hunter leaned back and cocked his head. “You are?”

“It is annoying, and I wasn’t allowed to cut it because I had to look like I was a respectable member of the family, even if I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere.”

“You wear it up?”

“Braided usually, but I don’t braid wet hair. So, I had to wait for it to dry.” Orla still hadn’t absorbed what was going on, but suddenly, the thousands of spells she knew started to jump up and down in her mind. She decided to start off simple and beckoned to one of the grimoires. The book lofted itself over to her and settled in her hands. “Wow. I have always wanted to do that.”

Hunter blinked. “You have control over your magic, just like that?”

“I have always been good with instruction manuals, but I think I need to get some practice in before you send me home.”

He tilted his head. “You think I will send you home?”

“Yes. They told me at the arena. I was there to change, and I have changed, so if I could have a day here to practice before I go back, that would be good.”

He leaned back and crossed his arms. “You can stay until you are completely confident. When you are sure, I will bring you back to the moment we met.”

“Your tail wagged when we met.”

He made a soft huffing sound and cupped her cheek. “I know. I had no idea you were looking.”

“I always wanted a sturdy pet. Gren killed my kitten when I was six. I haven’t dared to be near anything furry since.”

“He killed...” He stared at her. “You are looking at me as a pet?”

“Well, I look at all quadrupeds as pets, but I never make a move. I know Gren would do something if I did.”

“So, you are allowed no comfort. What about relationships?”

“I have a few friends that my family would not dare challenge, but regular work friends are left at the bus stop or waved off after work.”

His thumb stroked her cheek, and she leaned into it. “What do your powerful friends do?”

“Nothing. I have told them I am cursed and to stay out of it. It doesn’t do me harm unless I get elevated beyond a subsistence position.” His hand was warm, and the fur was soft. She wanted desperately to burrow against him, but it wasn’t appropriate.

“Well, the curse is broken, and your lineage is not what you thought. Your mother is your mother, but your father is of a different family. That is strange, but... when is your birthday?”

“Why?”

He removed his touch, and she felt the loss. “Humour me.”

“Mabon.”

He nodded. “And you are thirty-one?”

“Yes.”

Hunter walked to the wall and selected a book, carrying it to the table, setting it next to her, and flipping to pages with family crests on it. “The Yule gathering thirty-two years ago was treated to a meteor shower. It was considered auspicious, so the gathering exchanged partners as the mood struck them.”

Orla looked at him, and he flipped the pages. “What are you saying?”

“It was the darkest night of the year, and they played at concealment, moving from partner to partner with energy tracking only. This is your mother’s family.” He tapped a crest with a soft bunny on it. “And this is the other crest that showed in the bloodline spell.”

“That isn’t my family crest.”

“No, but the male of the Brenethki Clan who was at that party... it’s his crest.”

“So, my family isn’t my family, the curse is gone, my magic is mine, and my mother is dead. So... I am free?”

He paused. “Not exactly, but more than you were.”

“Why not exactly?”

He held her hand up and showed her the ring. “I can’t remove this.”

“Why not?” She was parroting herself.

He shrugged. “I don’t want to. It will let me find you and keep you safe.”

“How? You will be here, and I will be there.”

“I do live in the mortal realm. I only send folk here who need to become more. Those you fought against were pulled here out of time to do what they could to better themselves in harsh conditions.”

“Oh. So, why don’t you want to?”

“I don’t know. Well, I didn’t know; now I do know.”

She scowled. “What?”

“You are the winter star.”

“What?”

“You were conceived on the longest night of the year, under a spectacular meteor shower, and appeared during the harvest festival.” He chuckled. “Even a blind man could find the significance in that.”

“I am missing things.” She ran through the spells in her mind and held her hand up. A book flew, and she caught it.

She opened the book and flipped, looking for the information she was seeking in the Diary of the Stars.

“Winter star. Oh. Well, I won’t hold you to that.”

He crossed his arms. “What if I want you to hold me to it? Something about you draws me, but there is one thing I am curious about. Do you know what flirting is?”

“Yes. Do I recognize it? No.”

He tapped the edge of his muzzle. “But, you want to touch me.”

“Yes. I won’t be rude, though. It wouldn’t be nice to importune you.”

“Interesting. Might I check one more thing?”

Orla thought about it and nodded. “Sure.”

He put his hands on either side of her hips, leaned in, and pressed his furry cheek to the side of her neck. He growled softly, and she jumped. The sound sent a core of warmth through her to unfamiliar places.

He leaned back and nodded. “That’s what I thought. You aren’t under a purity spell; you are a purity spell.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I have my work cut out for me if you are to be the bride of winter.”

“Am I?”

He took her book from her and set it beside them. It was a new sigil of a snowflake with the heart of a star. “You are.”

“I don’t like the idea of destiny.”

He shrugged. “You would prefer soulmates?”

Orla made a face. “No. Too lazy. People staying together because of fate don’t really have to put in the work to get to know each other and certainly have no reason to develop love.”

She looked up his muzzle into his eyes that didn’t settle on any particular shade of blue or green or brown, occasionally even white and silver.

“That is an interesting take on the situation. I thought women loved being soulmates.”

“They do until their partner declares someone else his soulmate. That is when she realizes it was just a method to get her clothes off. Words don’t mean much; it is actions that matter.”

He nodded. “That’s fair. I had thought you would need to stay to gain control over your skills, but you seem to have that done.”

Orla asked, “Can I get something to eat before you send me back?”

He huffed. “Of course.”

She looked up at him and felt warm and fluttery again, but it was the same way she thought about cuddly toys at the store. She felt at ease with him but wanted to hang onto him. That would fade once she was home.