Page 78 of Shifting Shadows

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“Why are you bringing that?” Kara asked him in the truck when he gave her the vase to hold.

“Because a week is a unit of time,” he told her. “As in, let’s give this a week and see what will happen.”

She touched the rose petal sadly. “You think he’s going to be disappointed.”

“I never make predictions about other people’s responses,” Asil lied easily. She was not experienced enough to see through his lies, and he was happy to soften her life with them where he could.

The Marrok met them at his door.

“I need to see you both in my study,” he said, not unkindly.

Asil handed him the vase, and Bran took it—a bit bemused by the gift. Which is why Asil had brought it. He would not, would not defy the Marrok. He needed to be in this pack, so that when his wolf finally broke, there would be someone strong enough to hunt him down and kill him before his body count grew too high. Sage might disagree, but Asil knew his own fate. But that did not mean he intended to sit back and watch what might come. He would request leniency in such a way as not to challenge Bran’s authority.

Vase in one hand, Bran pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly with the other.

Asil didn’t wait for him to say anything, just led the way to Bran’s study, conscious of the reluctant teenager behind him. His wolf wanted to growl and protect her—but he knew better. Bran had nothing but her best interests in mind. Her best interests and the bribe of Bran’s favorite roses to let Bran know that Asil would do whatever he could to help.

Asil ignored the curious looks they got from the other people in Bran’s house. They would know Kara. Asil would learn their names if they made the transition, not before.

Bran closed the door to his study behind them.

“This isn’t working,” he said, setting the vase down on the desk.

Asil didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Yesterday, when she came, I met her as a wolf. She was able to change to human when I did.” He’d hoped that would have kicked her into doing it herself—which is why he hadn’t tried it today. But she hadn’t been able to change on her own.

Bran raised an eyebrow and looked at Kara. “What do you think?”

She swallowed, ducking her head under the weight of the Marrok’s gaze, but her voice was strong. “I think I’m better. I can take charge almost as soon as we are out of sight of the house. I can’t manage it right when I change to a wolf yet—but until this week I couldn’t do it at all. I can’t change back on my own. But yesterday I think I figured out how to do it. How it should feel to start the change on my own.”

Bran frowned at the pair of them.

“Okay.” He tapped his desk and looked at Asil. “Any insights you might have would be helpful.”

Asil raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “I’ve never seen a wolf as young as she is survive. I think we had a fourteen-year-old once. We had to kill him—but she’s a lot better adjusted than he ever got.”

“After three years,” the Marrok said, “she should be adjusted.”

Asil nodded and told Bran the things he already knew. “Not her fault. It would have been easier if someone had worked with her right away. Three years of incarceration encouraged her to build walls between herself and the wolf that they wouldn’t have had when she was first Changed. She’ll get it. It might take a few weeks or a few months.” He shrugged. “The roses are to let you know I’m willing to aid any way I can.” He seldom cut his roses, even the ones meant to be cut—it made them more valuable when he decided to bestow them upon someone. “If you decide to take her on First Hunt, I’ll come”—he smiled, knowing Bran would read the threat in the smile that wasn’t in his voice—“help.”

Bran’s mouth pinched, and he said silkily, “Is that a threat, Asil?”

“Would I threaten the Marrok?”

Bran laughed, and Asil’s wolf settled down as the tension in the room dissipated.

“Never,” said Bran mockingly. But his voice was kind when he told Kara, “So you have another reason to get control. First Hunt is not where either of us wants to see you. And no one wants Asil there.”

Her chin raised.

“Most of those who survive the Change will be male,” he said. “And all of them are fully adult. They won’t make allowances for your being young. Half the business of the First Hunt is establishing how dominant the wolves are. It will get bloody.” He glanced at Asil. “Very bloody if Asil joins us.”

He took a deep breath. “Fine. One more week. That gives you until the day before First Hunt. Kara, keep trying. Don’t go to Asil unless it doesn’t work. We won’t make Asil keep making himself scarce—but I don’t want you to go to him until sunset.”

“If she changes outside this time of the year, she’ll freeze,” Asil said. “Why don’t you let her come to the greenhouse—I’ll open the push door so she can get in.” He would never call it a dog door. “That way she’ll have clothes and warmth.”

“It is easier to work pack magic in the woods,” Bran said.

Asil snorted. “Not that I ever noticed. For a girl raised in the middle of the city, the woods are frightening and lonely. Her wolf will never let her change when she’s afraid.”

Bran regarded Asil without favor. “You didn’t think to mention this earlier?”

“You didn’t ask,” said Asil, who refused to say that he hadn’t thought of it before.

Bran saw through him—which was one of the reasons Asil liked him. “Too many strangers here for her to be comfortable—Leah’s said the same. Hah—I thought that might bother you. But that’s why I sent her out on her own.” He nodded. “Fine. But you leave her alone until sunset—and let her try her best to change herself.” He smiled at Asil and got back at him for every moment of stress Asil had put him through by saying, “I’m very glad to see that you care.”

Asil opened the study door—and there was another wolf in human skin standing with a hand raised to knock. The wolf looked vaguely smug and raised his eyes to meet Asil’s. The smug look—and the knock, no one knocked at the Marrok’s door when it was closed—annoyed Asil. He was more annoyed and a fair way to terrified by how his affection for Kara had blindsided him. He’d sworn not to make serious ties with anyone as he neared the end of his life.


Tags: Patricia Briggs Fantasy