Arrie and the Wolf Part 4 by Eileen Glass

Author:Eileen Glass [Glass, Eileen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Goodreads: 25504146
Publisher: Glass Fiction
Published: 2015-05-07T00:00:00+00:00

“Let me go.”

He doesn’t even try to pretend to be human, his throat pulling tight, all muscles sticking out as his lips pull back and he growls, the wolf growing around him with that dripping malicious smile, ears flattened back.

Displeased is an understatement.

“I can do this,” I say, unable to forget how fleshy and fragile I am but trusting he won’t do anything.

Power is clearly unbalanced between us. Trust is all I have.

“You will not go with me. You will stay here and wait.”

He sounds like the whisper of a monster under the bed, more teeth than conscience. He says, “You need me,” and steps closer.

I wiggle against his bonds. “Let me move, I want to touch you.”

If I claimed to be leaving, he’d hold me fast, but I can see this affect him, watch him consider. I’m learning fast. In controlling Sweetie, a whine goes a lot farther than an ultimatum.

“Please, I’m not leaving yet. Don’t do this to me.” I may be overplaying it a bit, but it works like a charm, the iron silk becoming liquid. Little itches and tickles spark where he touches in sensitive areas, but I ignore them, willing my body to relax and my nails not to react. In the mirror, I look like the demon more than Sweetie does, the floating ribbons coating me utterly in a tangled elastic mess. At least he’s comfortable to wear.

I reach right past the ink fangs, ignore the ugly animalistic expression on Rex’s face. His hair has gained a fluffy texture now that he’s bathed, and it’s pleasant to comb my fingers through. I scratch his scalp, under the thickness where he likes it.

His expression doesn’t change. At first.

When his eyes shut and the wolf becomes more transparent, less substantial, I whisper, “What if she changes her mind on a whim, hm?”

“Wouldn’t matter.” Eyes closed, his head drops forward. “I’d still kill you. You wouldn’t have a chance.”

I touch my forehead to his. “So, you see, there’s no protection you can offer me.”

His eyes fly open. “I did last time, I stopped her from—”

“Shh.” I touch a finger to his lips, make sure he’ll let me speak before I take over. Talking over him would result in the argument restarting from frame one with the insistence that I’m so delicate, I hang precariously close to death even now.

Not a fact I deny, but I still want to do this alone.

He glares, and I find my eyes darting between the two colors, unable to hold steady as he does.

He doesn’t speak so I assume the task.

“I almost killed myself when you got on your knees and swore fealty to her. I wanted to attack her, and I almost did. I tried to actually, I don’t know what stopped me.” His lips part, and I hurry to finish, “When she talks to you I get mad. When I get mad I do stupid things. Now, if you feel the need to come to my rescue for any reason, you can barrel down those stairs faster than light.

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