Page 60 of Heart of the High King
Kitchi whipped the black smock over Noirin after adjusting the chair slightly. “No worries, we can lessen the weight of it without changing the style much. You guys are like me with stick-straight hair. It’s super glossy too but again, crazy thick.”
“Well, yours looks awesome,” Noirin told him. The raccoon had a trendy cut with the sides shaved close, and the top was several inches long and artfully tousled.
“I’m so glad I can get teleported to my stylist. I would lose my mind if I had to find someone new.”
“Meanwhile, I’m grateful I have someone new,” Aleksander told Kitchi and grinned as his cousin narrowed her eyes at him. “And we’re incredibly thrilled that you’re a D’Vaire now, Kitchi.”
“Oh, me too,” Kitchi exclaimed. The raccoon had been there for nearly a week and was already making himself right at home. So far, he got along with everyone, and Larissa was helping him furnish his room just the way he wanted. Aleksander was thrilled they had the ability to give someone as wonderful as Kitchi a loving family.
∞∞∞
Waking up was a tortuous thing for Rafferty. What he could not figure out was where the druids were that should’ve healed him and why he was still in so much pain. The staff told him there was a wolf sleeping next to his bed, but Rafe could hardly lift his head to see him. It was assuredly the one he’d met as he escaped the cave, but why had anyone let him into the hospital? The Reverent Knights had been to visit him more than once, but he hadn’t answered their questions. At first, he could barely keep his eyes open, but now he was able to stay awake for at least an hour before the pull of slumber forced him to submit. The doctors wouldn’t tell him anything yet, and his mind was so mushy that it was hard to make sense of everything going on around him.
There was a knock, so he lifted his lashes, and four people walked into his room. Pushing the button to raise himself, he sat up as far as he could. It was time to move forward with his life.
“Wake,” a gruff voice said inside his head, and Rafferty had no idea how to explain it. Was he losing his sanity in addition to still being in pain?
“Hey there,” Reverent Knight Conley said, leaning down, and Rafferty supposed he was petting the wolf as he heard a small woof from the beast.
“This is Arch Lich Chander Daray and Lich Sentinel Alaric Daray,” Reverent Knight Drystan remarked, waving toward the men.
“I recognize them from the Council book,” Rafferty responded. His voice was still thinner than usual, although he was trying his hardest to project it. “Nice to meet you, Arch Lich and Lich Sentinel.”
“The pleasure is ours,” the Arch Lich said. The wolf trotted to the Lich Sentinel, and Rafferty finally got the chance to see him. It was apparent that he wasn’t the same wolf—instead of jet-black fur, there were streaks of gray and his eyes were bright blue.
“Hi,” that voice whispered through his head. Rafferty scowled, wondering about the strangeness of it.
“Are you okay?” Conley asked.
Rafferty wasn’t about to tell them he was hearing things. “Yeah.”
“We thought we’d tell you about the wolf,” the Arch Lich stated. “Do you recognize him?”
“No.”
“You were never around a wolf that you remember?”
Since Rafferty wanted answers about everything, he decided he needed to start telling them about himself and what he experienced. “I do remember a wolf, but he was pure black, and his eyes were a golden brown.” Rafferty squeezed his eyes shut, remembering what happened to the animal. “But he died. He was hit by a car.”
“Good, you do remember some stuff,” Conley said.
“Yes, that wolf died, and his spirit followed you, even after you were transported through several hospitals. It’s the first time I’ve seen a ghost on this side of the veil. He was scaring the shit out of the staff, so I resurrected him. He’s now tied to your soul and will protect you, no matter what,” Chander explained and went into details about his abilities. “He’s the first wolf sentinel. You should probably pick out a name for him, because it’s you two for life.”
Rafferty was relieved. “He’s the voice in my head.”
“We weren’t sure if that was going to work—you can actually hear him?”
“I’ve heard him twice today. He said ‘Wake’ and ‘Hi.’ I think I’ll name him Mortis.”
“That’s Latin for ‘death,’ ” Chander remarked. “Fitting for a dead wolf.”
“Like,” Mortis told him.
“I’m glad you like it,” Rafferty told Mortis with a smile. Still in awe that he now had a wolf tied to his soul and that they could communicate, Rafferty was grateful too. “Why does he look different? With the gray streaks and the blue eyes?”
“I asked Fate to choose his appearance. She obviously decided to make him resemble you.”
“I know I lost my dragon and that my eyes are blue, but where’s the gray coming from?”
