Dream Caster: Shadow (Dream Casters Book 2) by Adrienne Woods

Author:Adrienne Woods [Woods, Adrienne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Fire Quill Publishing
Published: 2017-10-24T06:00:00+00:00

I sat with her the entire day, trying to figure out what he could have been talking about. Where had he gone?

My mind swirled with scenarios. My mother had had a gentle Shadow Hound. I wondered if Ashton’s family had cured hers.

It was a strange name to call the process that made them. As I looked at the Hound lying in front of me, I wondered about the process. Ashton had compared it to baking a cake. What ingredients did they use to create these creatures?

Night fell. I picked up the matches and some of the wood Ash had conjured and started another fire. When it finally took, I plopped back down on the couch.

I wanted to bathe. I wanted to be clean. I couldn’t even remember the last time I had had the luxury of cleaning myself properly. I’d used the rain water to rinse off my body parts, but it wasn’t enough—I missed being clean.

Damn it! I hated this place. I was certain the only reason I liked Ashton was because I was lonely. I hadn’t had any conversation, any contact with another being, since Max and Mr. Grey had left. I longed for Mr. Grey’s voice to pop up in my head. I longed for his sarcasm and his company.

The cabin door flew open and I started.

My stomach flipped as Ash walked in with another bag filled with medicine.

“I didn’t think you were going to come back.” I smiled.

“Yeah, but somehow I’m a sucker for Shadow Hounds, especially ones that are injured.”

For some reason, it felt like there was a hidden meaning in his words, that he hadn’t just returned for the Shadow Hound, but for me as well. Though it was possible I was just reading too much into his words out of my desperation.

He handed me a spoon and another container filled with food. I opened the container and peered down at the contents, amazed at the bluish color of what seemed to be some sort of grain, with white meat and sauce spooned over the top.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Dig in,” he said.

I took the spoon and ate. It was delicious, or maybe it was just because, barring the food he had brought me the previous night, I hadn’t had a decent meal in over two months. The gruel definitely didn’t count.

He put a pot of water on the fire to boil.

When my meal was almost finished, he took the pot off the fire, and one again wet a cloth and cleaned the Hound’s wounds.

I looked at him in awe. He was so gentle with her, cleaning her face, her horns, her bruised cheek and torso. Even her stumps that hung behind her body.

I truly hoped she’d make it.

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