Chapter 5

W ulfric floated in the water, struggling to keep his head up so he could breathe. No, it wasn't water. Clouds? He floated but with every tight breath, he sank lower and lower to earth. His mind fought to stay in the air, but he couldn't breathe.

He sucked in a shallow breath at the pain in his side. A weight pressed on his chest. A noise like an anchor dropping brought him back to the ground, and he pried his eyes open. Caked and dry, it took longer than normal for the world to come into focus.

A fire crackled in the hearth beside him. The hearth... it reminded him of a long-forgotten past. The grinding sound came again, and he turned his head to the side, groaning at the pain in his neck.

A goddess stood at the table, grinding lavender into a mortar. The stench of crushed ginger, turmeric, cloves, and oregano filled the air. On the table in front of her, oil jars and soaking salt were spread out. As he watched, she picked up the oil and added a few drops into the bowl.

Efficient, confident, capable, yes, but a goddess wouldn't be doing such work. His eyes flitted around the room, taking in the table, the kitchen, the comfortable chairs. He'd made it to the dreaded druid's cottage. She must be the one they'd all been warned away from.

Muscles rippled under her green shirt, sleeves rolled up as she worked. She was lithe, a small woman, but dressed unlike anything the female Growlers wore. The black leather vest was laced tight on the sides like some sort of armor, matching her black pants and mud-caked black boots. A green shirt under the vest had sleeves rolled up to her elbows.

But it was her face that captivated him. Pale with white freckles sprinkled across her nose like a newborn fawn.

He blinked, his mind too slow for his liking. Was her nose that of a rabbit? Or was it a deer? He frowned, not seeing any whiskers.

She wasn't human, but she wasn't quite like him, either. A wide rack of antlers stuck up from either side of her head, and long ears hung down to her shoulders like a rabbit.

A riot of red, curly hair was piled between her antlers like a crown. It was silky, wild, and unlike anything he'd seen before. Well, in the ten years he'd been a Growler. She picked up the mortar bowl and sniffed, her cute little pink nose twitching just like a little rabbit.

His body was on fire. Sweat or blood dripped down his temple, yet he couldn't move. He hated that he was lying flat on his back, vulnerable to her, a stranger, an enemy, a beautiful and terrifying druid.

But he didn't feel any threat from her as she walked over, her swaying hips making his heart race.

His breathing grew shallower, but when their eyes met, his entire body froze. His breath, his heart, his entire world seemed to shift on its axis as their eyes connected.

Her green eyes called to the wild part of his soul. A growl rose in his throat, and his fingers itched to reach for her, hold her, claim her.

She slowed to a stop and frowned, tilting her head in confusion. Excitement coursed through his veins, and even with his injuries, his body felt the zing of desire and awareness. The hair stood up the back of his neck.

"You feel it, too?" His voice was ragged and rough from disuse, but it seemed to jerk her from the trance they were under.

She scowled and knelt at his side. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, her eyes flitting down his body with awareness. "You're gravely wounded. If you were human, you'd be dead by now."

"Growlers self-heal," he said, never taking his eyes off her, his mind racing to comprehend these feelings. He watched for her reaction to his words, but she didn't run away screaming like most humans. She was an enigma that he wanted to peel back, layer by layer.

She nodded and dipped her fingers into the bowl. "So I've heard, but some of your deeper wounds are taking a while, and I'm worried about the fever. At least you're awake now, though. You've been passed out for hours. But it's a good sign that you're morphing back into a more human shape, right?"

He glanced down in surprise, seeing his hybrid form was back. Pain shot through his body in multiple directions at the movement of his neck. Teeth clenched together, he fell back onto the floor to wait out the wave of nausea.

It was several moments later that he realized her soft, chilly hand was rubbing the poultice on his shoulder and neck. Her voice was quiet, and even with his wolf hearing, he couldn't make out the words.

But he recognized it as a spell of some sort, the tone similar to that the Elders used in ceremonies.

Her hand moved down his chest to his lower ribs. The coldness of the cream seeped under his fur, soaking into his body. For the first time, he could breathe a little deeper, a little easier. It wasn't a miracle cure, but it was definitely better.

His body relaxed bit by bit, and he opened his eyes. The bowl was set aside, but her hand still rubbed up and down his chest slowly. She stared at her hand, his torso, as if confused on why she was still touching him.

His abs rolled at her touch, wanting more. His nose flared as he smelled her heady scent, heard her breath hitch as she stared at him. Her fingers made his body flutter but not from pain.

How long had it been since someone had touched him like this? It'd been months since his last mating, but Growlers were wild and ferocious, biting and snarling for dominance. There was no tenderness among Growlers.

He hadn't had a gentle touch since he'd become a Growler. She was so soothing, so caring and calm as she wound the gauze over the poultice. His eyes grew heavy as he relaxed under her magical hands.

Scarlet kept scrubbing the floor in the kitchen, trying to get the blood out of the wood before Grandma got home. She'd be pissed if she found a mess, and Scarlet had spent the past few hours cleaning. The Growler was still passed out, but his presence was like a beacon. She kept stealing glances at him as she worked.

Thank the gods he looked more mannish now. It had made her fear diminish enough to take care of him without shaking.

She sat back on her haunches and rubbed her shoulder, the pressure on her neck and head pulsing with a dull ache. Fucking antlers.

The door flew open with a bang and Scarlet jumped up, pulling her daggers and crouching in front of the Growler. Fear threatened to choke her as her heart raced.

A cloaked figure stood in the doorway, wind blowing the edges around a pair of muddy boots. Scarlet blinked and relaxed as the aura penetrated her brain. Grandma pushed her hood from her head and stepped through the door, shutting it behind her.

If her red hair wasn't streaked with gray, she could've passed for Scarlet's sister. They had the same green eyes and freckles, although Scarlet's had morphed with her curses. Both of them were average height and build, although Grandma had less muscle than Scarlet.

Scarlet slowly stood, putting her daggers away. "Grandma, where have you been?"

Olive arched her brows and removed her cloak to hang on the hook by the door, her muddy skirts swishing. "Is that any way to greet your grandmother, child?"

Scarlet rolled her eyes and strode over, taking the heavy basket from her with one hand and giving her a side hug with the other. "Welcome home, Grandma. I was worried about you."

Olive patted her back with a sigh. "I know, but I'm fine. I had a dream, so I went to find the glocken berry."

"What the hells is a glocken berry?" Scarlet asked, releasing her.

"A rare plant that only grows in one part of the forest. Is that him?" Olive slid the bag from her back and strode to the kitchen table, pointing to the fireplace.

"Who?"

"The Growler."

Scarlet shook her head, which just made the headache from the weight of her antlers worse. "Were you expecting him?"

Growlers had been banned from this part of the forest, and the magical protections around the cottage's clearing typically kept out any who tried to get in. As Growlers came closer to the cottage, the magic attacked them with gut-wrenching pain.

Normally. If Grandma had disabled the protections because she'd been expecting him, it would explain how he'd been able to get inside in such a weak state.

Olive stared at the Growler laying under the blankets near the hearth and shrugged. "He needs the glocken berry, according to the dream, but I was worried I wouldn't make it back in time."

Scarlet shook her head, pushing down her need to know all the details. The more she asked, the more confused she'd be. All she could do was wait for Olive to explain everything on her own. Her grandma talked in cryptic riddles when she was in full-on Druid mode.

Olive quickly washed her hands and strode to the shifter while Scarlet put the cleaning supplies back where they belonged.

As the sun had begun to set, his features had turned more human. His mouth had shortened to be less of a muzzle, although he still had the nose of a wolf and a soft layer of short gray and black fur all over.

His claws had receded into calloused hands. The erect ears of a wolf were visible above a full mane of gray and black hair that fell to his jawline. The even rise and fall of his chest revealed a white patch of fur and bandages though a blanket covered his lower half.

Olive knelt beside him, and Scarlet's gut twisted. She knew Olive would work to heal him, but the anxiety and worry over his continued sleep ate at her. It was why she hadn't been able to sit still all day.

Scarlet explained how she'd found him and what she did as Olive unwrapped his injuries.

"And he hasn't woken up since after you moved him this morning?"

Scarlet shifted on her feet and nodded, her hands behind her in a tight clasp, feet spread slightly in parade rest. "Correct. And his fever keeps climbing, I think. At least, he feels hotter tonight than he did earlier."

Olive hummed as she thought, then said, "The glocken berry... that's why I had to find it."

Scarlet frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Olive waved behind her. "Make some tea, child. We need to make a healing potion and mix the glocken berry in with it."

Scarlet strode to the kitchen and worked while Olive continued muttering.

"Don't make me regret this, Growler. You're her only hope."

Scarlet frowned and picked up the basket near the door, wondering what her grandmother was talking about. How could a Growler give hope to anyone? Their presence normally spelled painful death for their prey.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up, and she shivered at memories of running from the monsters. Being chased through the forest under the threat of death was among her least favorite activities. When she'd first gone with her dad on Ranger missions, they'd raced time after time through the woods to escape the Growlers.

Then just last summer, she'd escorted Eirwyn here, running from the pack of Growlers the entire way through the forest. Their howls had haunted her once more, bringing back nightmares she'd long suppressed.

As a kid, she'd grown tired of running and had learned to fight. She refused to be a weak damsel in distress. She could handle herself now.

But that underlying childhood fear had come back since she'd been twice cursed. It was the fucking scared little rabbit within her. Her jaw clenched as she reached for the now cleaned mortar and pestle.

Olive joined her and took over in the kitchen, so Scarlet stepped back, watching to see how she could help, waiting to see if Olive would explain more.

"Here, grind this please." Olive handed her the bundle of purple flowers, roots dangling, then worked quietly to make the tea.

"The glocken berry, I presume?" Scarlet asked, crushing the flowers into the mortar and picking up the pestle.

Olive hummed. "Yes, child. I know how you feel about Growlers, but I'm glad you didn't kill him outright. This is good, very good."

Unease shot through her spine as she ground the plant, and she glanced at where he lay on the floor. "How is this good? He's a monster, a Growler, and yet you don't sound surprised that he's here or that I spared him."

Olive shrugged, pouring three mugs of tea and sitting at the table. "I'm not. It was actually heartwarming to see you jump up and protect him when I came in. I made the right choice, I think, but only time will tell."

Scarlet frowned, more confused at the cryptic words than before. She shifted on the balls of her feet and grunted with the flex of her muscles. If the plant was a fine powder, it'd be a more effective potion. Hope for him to be healed warred with her confusion, and she latched onto the one thing she did understand.

She asked, "What do you mean, protect him? I was protecting myself."

Olive snorted, "Don't fool yourself, child. Not over this. Not over him."

Scarlet paused, her mind working furiously. Why him? What did Grandma know that she didn't? She twisted her wrist and gripped the stone pestle tightly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Olive hummed again, staring at the wolf by the fire as she drank her tea. Scarlet finished in silence, biting her tongue as the frustration swirled in her gut. Then she held the mortar to her grandmother. "How's this?"

Olive nodded and took the stone bowl, mixing the powder into the two remaining mugs. The steam curling up turned blue then green. Olive smiled grimly and looked at Scarlet, her eyes piercing her.

Scarlet froze and pressure increased on her chest, like when she'd been caught stealing cookies as a kid. Hair stood on the back of her neck under that intense gaze.

"You will drink one, and he will drink the other."

Scarlet's breath shuddered as her head shook automatically. "No." Her gut twisted again. This was a bad idea. That look in Olive's eyes said there was more to this than what she was saying.

Olive arched her brow. "No?"

Scarlet frowned. "I'm sorry, Grandma, but if the glocken berry is a super powerful version of a normal healing potion, shouldn't he take it all? He's the one that's gravely injured and getting worse."

Olive's lips twitched with pride, but Scarlet knew she was holding back information. Scarlet hadn't made it this long as a Hunter without having great instincts, and something was off about this.

"He will take enough of it, but this is something we haven't tried to break your curse. Don't you want to see if it will work?"

Scarlet's eyes widened. It might help her curses?

"Well, why didn't you just say that?"

With no further thought, she grabbed a mug and downed it, gulping the warm liquid. Her nose wrinkled as she drank, the smell assaulting her sensitive shifter senses.

She slammed the mug onto the counter as if she were back in the tavern. She smacked her lips, trying to get the bitter, gritty after-taste out of her mouth. Her throat spasmed, and she choked, her eyes watering. Olive passed over her own mug of regular tea, and Scarlet drank that too.

When her breathing returned to normal, Scarlet pulled on one of her long ears and scowled.

Olive chuckled and shook her head. "Give it time, child. Come, help me get him to drink."

Olive's eyes glittered with anticipation as she stood, taking the remaining magical mug to the Growler by the fire. Scarlet followed, kneeling at his head as Olive directed her to lift him enough to drink.

He moaned and his eyes fluttered at the movement, but he didn't wake.

"Come on." Scarlet grunted, pushing his wide shoulders up. She propped him up and watched as Olive held the mug to his lips, pulled down his jaw, and began to pour the potion slowly inside.

He grunted, eyes closed, but seemed to swallow fine. He didn't gag or choke or move.

When the mug was empty, Olive moved back. "Alright, you can lay him back down."

"Now what?" Scarlet asked. "How long does it take for it to work?"

The sharp tone of voice made her wince. She was terrified again, which made her angry.

Stupid fucking rabbit instincts that made her want to hide while she waited for the potion to take effect. Worry twisted her stomach in knots. She didn't want to get her hopes up. Not again.

"Not long," Olive said, her eyes flitting between Scarlet and the Growler and back again.

When she'd first been cursed months ago, she'd come straight to Olive's. They'd tried every spell, potion, and magic in the old druid's repertoire, but nothing had worked. Then Scarlet had gone to the other two druids at the Robin's camp, facing all the stares and horror-filled gazes, but with no success.

Scarlet laid the man's head on the floor and frowned, realizing that her hand was brushing his gray and black hair away from his face.

"Why don't you go up to bed, child? You look like you haven't slept in a few days."

Scarlet sighed and shook her head. "I haven't, but I'm not leaving you down here with him. If this magically cures him, he might wake and attack. No, I'm fine, but you can go up to bed. I'm sure you're tired, since you've been gone all day."

Olive stood with a grunt, stretching her back. The dirty hem of her dress brushed against the Growler's blanket, but he didn't stir. The fire beside her burned too hot as she thought about what lay under the blanket. With Grandma's return, she was suddenly glad that she'd thrown the patchwork over him when his wolf's body had begun to morph into a more human shape. A well-defined man's shape.

"That's a great idea. If you're sure you'll be alright..."

Scarlet blinked as she tried to remember what they'd been talking about. She cleared her throat. "I'm sure, Grandma. We're fine here."

Scarlet looked up and caught the calculating expression on Olive's face before she smiled innocently. Olive ran her hand down Scarlet's cheek.

"My precious child, the world is changing, and with it, what you thought you wanted. I hope I have prepared you enough."

Scarlet twisted to watch her, frowning at the cryptic words. Sadness and worry warred within those words, but Scarlet still didn't know why. Questions swirled in her mind, making her dizzy.

She dragged herself to the deep cushioned chair beside the fire. She leaned back, her vision swimming as her head pounded.

Before her eyes closed, she checked the Growler's aura. Her body relaxed as she watched it grow incrementally stronger.