Wolf’s Fox by Juniper Hart

12

The suite was bigger than the one she had been raised in at Luthor’s lair. There were three rooms in total: a bedroom, a six-piece bathroom, and a walk-in closet the size of another bedroom. But it was a prison all the same to Ruthie, who paced from one room to the next, waiting for her sentence. The only solace she got was knowing that this wasn’t Luthor’s home, or at least not the one that she had known all those years ago.

Ruthie reasoned that he could have moved, or that he had updated his décor, but the more time she stalked around the suite, the surer she became that this home was not his. For one, she didn’t get a whiff of his overbearing anger. It had been impossible to escape his endless ire back then, the undesirable side of him overtaking any goodness that may have been hiding inside him. This house was not friendly, per se, but it did not seem consumed with darkness.

Light spilled from two skylights, higher than Ruthie could reach in her animal form, and the windows were sealed shut. If she’d been in her human body, she might have tried to break the glass, but despite having seen no one since her arrival in the middle of the night, she fully suspected that she was being monitored.

Is Luthor coming? Is that what I’m waiting on?

The white fox paused by one of the windows in the bedroom, peering out into the gray afternoon. At some point, food had been brought to her, but she had not seen the deliverer. The elegant silver tray sat by the door, untouched, lest it was poisoned.

Logic failed to prevail in her worry. If she had been thinking sensibly, she would have realized that anyone trying to kill her would not have had to take her from the wilderness to do so. Still, she wasn’t hungry, tempting as the meal appeared before her.

She strained her ears, the sound of distant footfalls catching her attention. A combination of anxiety and peace twined inside her, further confusing.

It took a full minute before she sensed him, seconds before the door opened.

Nicholas!

She backed away, teeth bared slightly, but it wasn’t Nicholas she saw. A stately, handsome woman with auburn hair and cold eyes entered, closing the door behind her.

“Hello, dear,” she said pleasantly. “How are you doing in here? Do you have everything you need?”

Ruthie growled but stepped further back. The stranger grinned, unimpressed by her display of aggression.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Ruthie. No one wants to hurt you, dear. My name is Catherine Konrad. I believe you know my son.”

Ruthie’s heart began to pound in her chest. Unable to speak, she stared at Catherine, wondering what it was she wanted.

Is that why I’m sensing Nicholas?

Nothing about her reminded Ruthie of Nicholas. She didn’t look like her son in the least, nor did she radiate any of his protective kindness. Instinctively, Ruthie did not trust the woman, but she did believe what she was saying.

“He enlisted me to find you. I apologize for whatever theatrics Saul may have used to capture you, but he did so under my orders.”

A shiver of apprehension fluttered through Ruthie’s body. Her eyes drifted behind Catherine, where she realized that the woman had left the door slightly open.

If she’s distracted with listening to herself talk, I may be able to sneak out of here and run.

It didn’t matter that she had no idea how to escape the house. If she could get out of the room, she might be able to—

“I get the feeling that you’re not hearing me, Ruthie,” Catherine sighed, bringing her eyes back. “I’m trying to help you, but if you try to escape, there’s not much I can do for you. I won’t go after you again, and you’ll be on your own.”

Ruthie’s head jerked back.

“Nicholas tells me that you think he’s out to harm you in some way.”

The younger shifter let out another growl of displeasure, her teeth gleaming with saliva.

“I don’t know what you think you know about Baneism, but it’s not all bad,” Catherine continued. Ruthie fully bared her fangs, her unhappiness evident. The woman remained unconcerned.

“I can see that I won’t be able to convince you of that, but perhaps my son can.”

She turned, and Ruthie almost seized the moment to rush the door. Before she could, Nicholas appeared.

“Ruthie, thank gods,” he breathed, hurrying toward her. She yelped out and backed away, not trusting the situation, even though she was truly glad to see him. The relief on his face spoke volumes to her, and she again wondered if she had misread him.

Not knowing who to trust was becoming exhausting.

“I’m not going to come any closer,” Nicholas said, holding up his hands as if in surrender. “But I need you to hear me out. Can you do that?”

There was no real way to answer him, though Ruthie didn’t have a response for him, anyway. She lowered her eyes and stared at the floor.

“Mom, will you leave us?”

“You remember our deal, Nicholas,” Catherine said quietly, leaving the room. She closed the door without waiting for her son’s response. The pair eyed one another warily.

“Gods, I’ve been looking for you all over the place, Ruthie,” he muttered, sinking down into a nearby wing chair. His body was tense as he lowered his elbows onto his knees, holding her gaze. “Why did you take off like that?” He sighed and shook his head. “I mean, I guess I understand why you did it, but I wish you hadn’t. Can’t you tell that I’m not going to hurt you?”

Embarrassment flushed through Ruthie, and she was glad he couldn’t see her human complexion. She had no doubt that it would be crimson.

“I hope you were brought here respectfully,” he went on, knowing that she couldn’t answer. “I didn’t realize that my mother was really trying to help find you. It’s not really like her to do something without expecting something in return.”

He paused, and this time, it was he who looked away. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

There was so much that Ruthie wanted to say, to yell and argue, but of course, she couldn’t. He sensed her frustration.

“I know you probably feel trapped here,” Nicholas said softly. She bowed her head slightly in a nod, and he exhaled. “No one is going to force you to stay, Ruthie. If you honestly feel like you’re safer out there, go. I won’t stand in your way.”

Uncertainty swept through her, and she glanced at the door. He made no move to stop her as she inched toward it, but her steps were faltering.

“Before you go,” he added, sounding defeated. “I can’t find out anything about Luthor. If he was relevant at some point, he’s no one now. Not even my mother has heard of him.”

Ruthie stopped in her tracks, ears perked up.

“I think you can agree that if we were part of some conspiracy to return you to him, we would have done that by now.”

She despised the lack of faith she had in her own gut instincts. Her primal senses had been broken down and eroded through Luthor. Even living in the wild as long as she had did not reinforce any of her natural abilities. She desperately wanted to believe Nicholas, but she was living in another cage.

“This is my mother’s home,” he said, seeming to read her thoughts. “I can bring you back to my house if you would prefer. The full moon is in a few days, and I’m sure you’ll have something to say, even if you decide to leave again.”

It was hard to ignore the sadness in his tone. Ruthie knew she wasn’t going anywhere, at least not yet.

Again, she lowered her head in a nod, and relief flooded Nicholas’ face.

“You want to come home with me?” he asked, rising. Ruthie exhaled and slowly walked toward him. To her surprise, he shifted, becoming the majestic gray wolf he’d been the first time she’d seen him.

He nuzzled his snout against her neck, and she relaxed in spite of herself. They were both in their animal forms now and ready to face the world together. That was somehow enough for her, even in her confusion.

They headed out into the hallway, but before they made it to the stairs, Catherine appeared.

“What on earth…?” she demanded, taking in the sight with thinly veiled annoyance. “Nicholas, what are you doing?”

Her son morphed back into his human form long enough to explain.

“We’re going home, Mom,” he told her flatly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Why don’t you just stay here?” Catherine looked vaguely alarmed. “There’s more room for Ruthie to roam around if she wants to stay in her fox form—"

“No. We don’t need you breathing down our necks,” Nicholas cut her off.

Catherine scowled and folded her arms over her chest. “I must say, Nicholas, this doesn’t speak well to your manners after all I’ve done for you.”

“I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t hold this over my head when I first asked you about locating Ruthie,” he snarled, his anger vivid. “This is what I was talking about. You just can’t help yourself.”

Catherine realized her mistake and backpedaled. “You really should stay. I have things to do, Nicholas. I’d hardly be breathing down your necks. I barely spend any time here as it is. You know that.”

She smiled disarmingly, casting Ruthie a quick glance, as if to get her to weigh in. The fox looked away. For whatever reason, there was a thick animus between Nicholas and his mother. Between the two, Ruthie trusted him more.

“We’re going. You know where to find me if you need me—but I assume you won’t.”

He turned toward Ruthie, but before he could change back into his wolf body, his mother spoke again. There was a tension in her voice that could be cut.

“Nicholas…” Reluctantly, Nicholas looked back to her. He met her eyes, and Ruthie caught the unspoken riff between them. “Don’t make me regret doing this for you.”

He smirked and averted his eyes.

“And to think I’d almost forgotten how egocentric you are, Mother. Thanks for lunch. I’ll expect an invoice for that, I assume.” He shifted back into his wolf frame before Catherine could retort and nodded toward Ruthie to follow. She didn’t understand what had transpired between mother and son, but suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to escape Catherine Konrad’s house. It was not as oppressive as Luthor’s had been, but there was an unmistakable chill that couldn’t be overlooked.

She rushed after the massive gray lupine, and the pair headed out of the mansion and into the drizzling rain. Nicholas paused at the end of the driveway to ensure that she was behind him. His eyes gleamed mischievously, and as she approached him, he burst into a sprint. She stared after him for a moment before realizing that he expected her to follow. Then Ruthie was hot on his heels.

Through the lone country roads, across the puddles and in the escalating rain, they raced. And for the first time in longer than she could remember, Ruthie didn’t feel alone…or terrified. She wasn’t running away but toward the safety and security she had hoped to gain for longer than she could recall.

Please, gods, she prayed as she chased after Nicholas. Let this be the end of all my fears.