The She-Wolf of Kanta by Marlena Frank

Author:Marlena Frank [Frank, Marlena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: young adult, novella, dark fantasy
Publisher: Aurelia Leo
Published: 2018-04-17T04:00:00+00:00

Mercy didn’t want to wake. Pain moved in endless, throbbing waves through her body. Her back was rigid with it. She was also shivering from a biting cold. She heard a crow’s distant caw and with a groan opened her eyes. Wooden shutters were flung open to let in an early morning light. An empty bed sat in front of her with a nightstand beside it, but she lay facedown on a table stained by kitchen use. She was lying on her stomach with most of her body beneath layers of blankets. Cold metal buckets had been pushed up against her side, and freezing towels that had been wound into ropelike cords lay across her back, probably to help with the pain. She shifted to see how bad the damage was, but the pain in her right side flared instead. She put a hand to the pain and was surprised to feel bandages.

It didn’t take long for her to recognize the architecture and familiar decor of Farrell Mill; the metal floors and the sound of grinding metal in the air were unmistakable, but it didn’t answer anything. Why in the world had Thomas Farrell rescued her? More importantly, how did he even know she needed rescuing?

“Mister Farrell? She’s awake, sir.”

The familiar voice made her stomach go tight. Mitchell, the old guard from the woods, stood in the doorway with his arms folded and a knowing smile on his lips.

“Excellent, Mitchell!” She heard Thomas Farrell call from another room. “I’ll be there in a moment.”

She tensed and tried to move off the table, but arching her back brought on fresh pain. Mitchell walked toward her and clasped a hand over her mouth. His gloved hands smelled like brimstone and blood. “You say a word, and I slit your throat, child. Understood?” She stared up at him with wide eyes. Either Mitchell wasn’t acting on Thomas’s orders, or he didn’t want his boss to know what he had done. She noted the gun in his belt loop, smaller than the shotgun he had wielded the day before but no less dangerous, and nodded through his grip. He removed his hand from her mouth then pushed the cold buckets against her side.

“Stay against them,” he said with a flat gaze.

She nodded again, not quite sure what was safe to say. He pulled out towels and started replacing the wet ones around the metal buckets. Then he took the wet towels to the window and began wringing them out over the edge. “She certainly doesn’t seem happy,” he said loud enough for Thomas to hear him.

“I would think not, after what she’s been through!”

She watched Mitchell move through the pile of wet towels, wringing them out one by one over the edge of the balcony, her brain foggy and slow to catch up on what this all meant. Thomas had rescued her from the werewolves, but the real threat was right here under his roof. She wasn’t sure which was worse, being torn apart by werewolves or imprisoned with a man who’d tried to kill her.

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