Page 22 of Killian
Cynog looked at their hands, made a little squeak, and waved his hands in happiness. “You love each other so much!”
Moira giggled. “Yes, we do,” she said, looking at Killian, and he couldn’t help but smile because it was so damn true.
“I feel it like the light of crystals,” said Cynog with a sigh. “Well, at the very least, you have interesting news to share, which must be recorded. I will have to take you to the Head Librarian.”
“I think that’s what we want,” said Killian looking at Moira,and she nodded.
“Great!” exclaimed Cynog. “I didn’t want to have tomakeyou come with me. That would get so awkward! Follow me, please!”
Cynog turned and headed deeper into the jungle. Moira cocked an eyebrow at Killian, and he nodded. He also didn’t like the sound of being made to follow Cynog. Not that he thought Cynog could actually do it. Killian was pretty sure that with or without magic wolf powers, he could stuff Cynog into a trash can; the dryad seemed as sturdy as a sapling.
“Well, my bright-headed warrior,” whispered Moira as they set out. “How are you liking this adventure now?”
“Well, my fated mate,” said Killian with a chuckle, “I will continue to like it fine as long as you’re with me.”
“Did you really like my ears?” she asked, sounding nervous.
“They were so cute,” he replied honestly, and she smiled.
Episode 10
The Next Level
Moira
Moira followed Cynog down a twisty little track through the ferns that towered over their heads. She glanced back at Killian. He was frowning thoughtfully, eyes focused on the trail. She wanted to ask what he was thinking about, but she felt hampered by Cynog’s presence.
On one hand, she was thrilled to meet an actual dryad and have her wolfiness explained. She supposed, in retrospect, that smelling all the things probably wasn’t a normal human trait, but she couldn’t picture not having that. How did regular humans even manage their lives without being able to smell properly? How would you know who you wanted to have sex with if you couldn’t smell them? Or what leftovers were good? Or which public restrooms to avoid? Some things should not be that much of a guessing game.
She looked at Cynog’s back. He walked with a happy bounce and seemed utterly oblivious to the fact that she could snap his neck like an antler if she wanted. Which was a terrible thought. But it really seemed like he was not being properly cautious. Her grandfather would have yelled at her if she’d behaved so carelessly. Maybe Cynog had some sort of magic protective spell?
Moira shook her head at the thought. Magic was real. And Cynog was taking them to the magical librarians who ran this magical library. That seemed like progress. Assuming that was what they wanted to do. She wished she knew what they were doing here.
“Well, baby girl,” said Grandpa, ignoring his son and pouring theremaining cocoa into the last mug on the table. He blew on it and took a sip. “That would be a good thing to have, so keep your head on a swivel and come home safe.”
“What?” repeated her uncle. “You’re not going to ask about the quest or what kind of danger she’ll be in?
“Well, it’s a quest. I assume there will be danger.”
“And you don’t think that warrants more than… keep your head on a swivel?” Her uncle looked grumpy as only a DeSandre wolf could. She suspected that he’d been hoping Grandpa would forbid her from going.
“I went questing at her age, and I turned out all right. And if I haven’t taught her what she needs to know by now, then me spewing it at her right before she leaves isn’t going to help.”
Her uncle’s left eye twitched, and her grandfather took a complacent sip of cocoa, looking like he knew he’d pissed his son off and was really happy about it.
Moira tried to hold onto the memory. There had been other family members at the table—the worn wooden table that had been crafted by hand. Their faces remained in shadow, and while she could count them, she couldn’t remember them. But she had been sent on a quest. A quest for what? And where had Killian been? He hadn’t been at the table. At least, she didn’t think so.
But shewasmated to Killian.
It was so apparent that even Cynog could tell.
She’d checked their hands for rings. They weren’t married, and they didn’t even have passports from the same country. Why the hell couldn’t she remember any of their life together? Cold panic gripped her. What if he hadn’t known she was a wolf?
No. Cynog had said he was a wolf too. So… that was probably OK?
She glanced back at Killian again. She wondered what his wolf would look like. She was willing to bet it was handsome and noble looking, just like his human face. He was still staring at the track. Moira sighed and faced forward.
“Cynog,” Moira said, raising her voice, “where are we going?”
