Thorne

The sun is setting when they return, and my attention snaps to the front door. The first person to enter is a blond woman with thin features that look similar to Sally’s. She pauses when she sees me, a pained look pinching her face, but she half-smiles and hurries toward the back of the house. A dark-haired woman comes in next, her round features a contrast to the stern look in her eyes. She rushes to Ian’s side and whispers something to him. Behind her comes an old man with a walking cane and a worried expression, and finally a young man with a scowl whose scent I recognize, but can’t quite place.

As I’m trying to remember how I know the boy’s scent, the caster, Bella, walks in; She’s got a lithe frame but easily carries a large, full basket. Her ebony hair is pulled into a braid that reaches past her hips, the dark rope accents her lightly tanned skin and reveals her delicately pointed ears. She wears a long, frayed dress with a new cloak draped across her shoulders. To my dismay, the elaborate swirls of her Caster Mark are hidden.

When she sees me a smile breaks across her face. “You’re awake,” she says brightly, her voice lilting and soft.

Something about her smile causes an onslaught of memories to surface, clips and snippets of things I did while cursed, and I feel the blood drain from my face.

She sets the basket down and comes over to me, “Are you all right?” she kneels in front of me, bright silver eyes assessing.

“Yes,” I say slowly, “I-” I cut off when she presses a hand to my forehead. More memories surface and my stomach churns as the weight of what I’ve done settles on my shoulders. I try to apologize but I find myself stumbling over my tongue when she grabs my wrist and presses two fingers to the pulse point.

“No fever, your pulse is steady.” She nods to herself then smiles at me again, “Did you have some broth?”

I swallow and nod, gesturing at the bowl next to me.

“Good. You’re pretty emaciated so you’ll have to take food slowly. Do you want some more?”

“Please,” I manage, my voice hoarse and strained.

A sympathetic look crosses her features, “You’ll probably struggle to speak for a bit, being in Hound form for so long had adverse effects.” She stands and picks up the bowl, walking away before I can stop her. “Ian, how was he when he first woke?”

Ian gives me a look, a slight smile on his face. “He wasn’t too aggressive, mostly just looking for you.” He says.

“I was just suspicious.” I say hurriedly, my voice still shaky.

Ian gives me that smug look, “He didn’t do anything except try to growl at me.”

“Good,” she nods as she returns to me with the broth. “Do you remember your name?” she asks as she hands me the bowl.

I take the bowl and a sip of broth, “Thorne.”

She holds out her hand to me, “Nice to meet you, Thorne. I’m Belladonna, but you can call me Bella.”

I clasp her hand and a jolt of magic surges across my skin; it’s the most magic I’ve ever felt from a single person. My eyes widen but she smiles and pulls her hand away.

“You eat and get some more rest.” She says then returns to the kitchen.

I watch her walk away and frown into the bowl. “I, uh,” I pause, “Thank you,” I say quietly.

She glances over her shoulder and smiles, “You’re welcome.”

The woman comes back then with Sally in her arms. Sally squirms in her mother’s arms reaching for me and crying, “Doggy!”

Sally’s mother looks startled as the room grows deathly quiet. All eyes swing to Sally, then to me. Bella clears her throat, “Sally, sweetie, how do you know that?”

The little girl looks at Bella and says, “You went outside, I wanted to make sure you were okay cause it was night time and night time isn’t safe. So I looked out the window, it was dark and snowy, I was worried. And then I saw a big doggy outside.” She puts her hands up to her eyes, “He had big eyes, and big ears, and big teef.” She puts her little fingers at her mouth like fangs, “but his eyes, his eyes are his eyes.” She points at me, “he’s doggy.”

"Well," The old man whispers, “It is said that children can see the true nature of things.”

I swallow and look at Bella. Bella glances at me then at Sally, “Perhaps,” She says a wariness in her voice.

I look away and sip the broth again, attempting to show I’m not a threat, despite knowing that I easily could be.

Bella turns to Ian’s wife, “Carrie, can I help with dinner?”

Carrie nods and smiles, “Of course. We should get started.”