Page 63 of Little Red Riding Hood
A predatory smile spread across Wim’s face, his wolf rising to the surface. Unlike his feral episodes, this hunt would be calculated, controlled. These men had hurt what was his. They would learn their mistake. “So do I.”
“But we don’t even know which direction they went!” Red’s voice pitched higher, sending a protective surge through Wim’s chest.
He tapped his nose with one finger. Their scent trail lay clear as daylight to his wolf senses, fear-sweat and greed leading away through the trees. “That shouldn’t be difficult.”
“But…” Red wrapped his arms around himself, and Wim caught the sour scent of fear. “It might be dangerous!”
Wim’s broad shoulders lifted in a casual shrug. “Didn’t we make short work of those slavers together? This lot won’t know what hit them.”
He watched as the words died in Red’s throat, scenting the shift in his emotions—concern, worry, something deeper that made Wim’s chest tighten. His Little Red cared for him now, far more than he had when they’d first met. The knowledge both thrilled and terrified him, considering their time together had an inevitable end.
While Red wrestled with his thoughts, Wim rooted through the ruined camp, trying to focus on the immediate problem to calm his spiralling mind.
“Well, what do we have here?” He held up Red’s old, hole-ridden boots triumphantly. “They left you with these. At least something’s going right.”
“Oh, what joy!” Red’s retort carried that familiar bite, but his smile—god, that smile—made Wim’s heart stutter. He threw the boots to Red, watching as he pulled them on with a grimace.
“Ready?” Wim let his eyes gleam in the darkness, already feeling the pull of his wolf form.
“Ugh.” Red kicked at a clump of grass. “Fine. But if we die, I’m going to kill you.”
Wim’s laugh echoed through the trees, even as his chest ached with things unsaid. How could he tell Red that he’d tear apart anyone who tried to harm him? That the thought of Red’s death made his wolf howl in agony?That his own mission would destroy whatever was growing between them?
“That’s the spirit, sweetheart. Now, hop on.”
He slipped off his shirt, stuffing it into his pack before he let his shift take him, bones cracking and reforming, fur rippling across his skin, tail swishing once against the forest floor. Then his wolf form stood before Red, massive and grey, easily as tall as Red’s chest. He kept his eyes fixed on him.
Blood rushed through Wim’s veins, almost dizzying him.
Mine-protect-mine.
“Show-off,” Red muttered, but Wim’s keen ears caught the smile in his voice as Red climbed onto his broad back. Those lovely fingers tangled in his thick grey fur, and Wim suppressed a shiver of pleasure. “Right, then. Let’s go catch some bandits.”
I’ll keep you safe this time, Little Red, Wim promised silently as he caught the bandits’ scent.No matter the cost.
Fourteen
The wind whipped through Red’s hair as Wim bounded through the forest following an invisible trail. Without his cloak, the night air bit into Red’s skin, raising gooseflesh across his arms. He pressed closer to Wim’s warmth, burying his face in the thick grey fur.
Wim’s pace slowed, his massive paws silent against the earth. Red strained his ears but heard nothing beyond the rustle of leaves.
A low growl vibrated through Wim’s chest. Red leaned down, pressing his lips close to Wim’s ear. “What is it?”
Wim shook his head once, continuing forward at a creep. After several more minutes, Red caught the sound of rough laughter floating through the trees—Eyepatch’s distinctive cackle made his stomach clench.
Wim stopped, lowering himself so Red could slide off. The wolf shifted back to human form, crouching close. “Stay here,” he whispered. “I need to get closer, see what we’re dealing with.”
Red’s fingers shot out, grabbing Wim’s wrist. The thought of being alone, even for moments, sent ice through his veins. But he forced himself to nod, releasing his grip.
Wim disappeared into the shadows. Red counted his breaths, fighting the urge to call out. When Wim returned, Red nearly sagged with relief.
“They’re settling down for the night,” Wim murmured. “Two keeping watch, but they’re nearly asleep on their feet. One’s noddingoff by that large oak, the other’s perched on a stump near their supplies. The rest are already out cold. At least some of our belongings are piled near the centre of camp.”
“So what’s the plan?” Red whispered.
“Simple enough. Wait for them to sleep, then I’ll slip in and take back what’s ours.”
“Absolutely not. I’ll do it. Unlikesomepeople, I can move without sounding like a lumbering bear!”
