4
With a few sharp barks, I caught their attention. They wheeled around in the air, their guttural vocalizations expressing their frustration. It wasn’t my place to command them, and I almost stepped back and allowed them to continue searching, but a twinge of pity in my heart prompted me to stand taller. I growled, wordlessly urging the dragons to retreat for now. I could search the mountainside better while it was still dark out; my sense of smell was stronger, and unlike the dragons, I wasn’t too big to maneuver through the bushes without getting tangled up. They screeched in protest, and some of them continued to scour the mountainside until they all fell back, flying overhead and disappearing back into the trees they had come from. Most likely to collect their fallen comrade.
I carefully made my way down the mountainside. The stench of blood burned stronger in my nose, and with it, I identified features that told me more about the wolf I was following. It was female, close to my age, if not a little younger. And it was a wolf, yes, but there was also something else about it—something sweet, airy, unusual. Like half of her scent was wolf, and the other half was absent but still somehow discernable. I didn’t know how else to describe it other than it smelled the same way a gentle breeze might feel. It slowed down the crashing pace of my heart and brought clarity to my thoughts as if the scent I was following belonged to something that gave me comfort.
It couldn’t be. Nothing gave me comfort these days.
The scent led me to a narrow crevice in the ridge. I hesitated outside of the hole, but slowly inching my way toward it, I realized it was empty. Whoever had been inside must have left just moments ago. The ground was still warm where she lay, the air buzzing with a sense of magic. I continued following the trail, steeling myself against the thorns scraping through my fur. Once I made it out, the smell only got stronger, and I realized that she was heading for the creek cradled by the mountain cliffs. If I wasn’t careful, the wind might pick up my scent and alert her to my approach, so I took my time walking in a wide berth around the creek. Through the darkness, I couldn’t see anything, but I knew she was there. Always on the fringe of my awareness. Those minutes felt like an eternity, obsessing over her and what I would find. I had to know.
Finally, I made it to the other side of the creek. My black fur disguised me well within the shadows. I slunk through the trees and approached the bank, and finally caught sight of the creature I had been stalking.
Pearl-white fur hung silky off her lithe body, clinging to her muscles and the curvature of her ribs. Her long, elegant legs were submerged in the creek, her long tail adorned in wisps of moonlit hue. She looked unreal, the way she carried her body, how she bathed in the water and swept crimson out of her fur. But the most magnificent detail—what made her truly sublime—was the glistening horn rising from her brow, catching the starlight with a glimmer. Beads of bloodied water rolled down her temples. I finally understood what she had done to that dragon.
Before me stood an impossible creature. The image of divinity a wolf with a unicorn horn. I knew immediately that she wasn’t just some stranger. This had to be Muriel’s daughter.
I hated to admit that my second thought, after the awe had subsided, was how pleased my father would be with me if I brought this creature back to him.
She saw me the moment I stepped out of the shadows and toward the water. Her body tensed, her tail rising. My body reacted the same way, obsidian fur bristling as I pinned my eyes on her. My impulses were torn two ways: I wanted to deferentially whine and plead for her not to run, that I was safe, but so too did I want to lunge at her, wrap my teeth around her neck and drag her back home. The ugly storm of emotions I had shoved down all this time won.
My anger was irresistible.
Letting her go would just make me more of a failure, and I couldn’t accept that.
I charged through the creek, splashing carelessly in pursuit. The hybrid retaliated with a startling snarl, and when I thrust my teeth at her nape, she swung her horn, fending me off. My paws slipped on the cold river stones beneath the water. She was too fast for me, despite the obvious wounds ripped across her haunch. I scrambled after her, hungering for any sense of victory. Every battle I had fought so far, I lost. Nothing ever went right for me. I wanted this, and it should have been easy—but despite my efforts, the hybrid made it back onto shore while I slogged through the water, and by the time I hit the grass again, she had vanished back into the trees, leaving me with the ghost of her smell. I was haunted by her tantalizing smell, her memory of ethereal beauty, and the shame that I had tried to harm her.
Panting and dripping, I stood before the trees and stared into the darkness, wondering if that moment had been a dream. I didn’t know if I would ever see her again or if I should even tell anybody what happened.
All I knew was that I wanted her. In some way that might heal all the pain I’d endured, I wanted her.