Wolf Who Rules

The 'stones' were granite slabs inscribed with spells located on top of a vastly powerful ley line that the domana accessed remotely via their genome. Until Windwolf unleashed his rage on the oni, Tinker hadn't realized the power that the stones represented. In one blinding flash of summoned lightening, it suddenly became clear why the domana ruled the other elfin castes. Somehow, the monster had tapped funneled the power through her.

"Oh, is that what the fuck it did to me?" And with that, she lost control of the tears she'd been keeping at bay. What was it about him that made her feel so safe in a way not even Pony could? She hugged him tightly, trusting he would make it right. As she wallowed in the luxury of being sheltered by the only force besides nature that seemed larger than herself, Windwolf turned his attention Pony.

"Little Horse, what happened?" Windwolf's voice rumbled in his chest under her head, like contained thunder. "Who is anyone hurt?"

"We were attacked by a very large creature," Pony went on to describe the fight in a few short sentences, ending with, "Stormsong took the brunt of the damage."

"We need to get her to the hospice." Tinker pulled free of Windwolf's hug, smeared the tears out of her eyes and started for Stormsong. "The thing bit her in the leg."

Windwolf crossed to Stormsong in long strides, beating Tinker to the sekasha's side. The forest floor was annoyingly uneven; after stumbling slightly, Tinker slowed to baby steps. Pony hovered protectively close as if he expected her to pitch face first into the dead leaves. The big gray Rolls Royce they'd left on the other side of the valley and an ambulance had picked their way through the shattered streets to stop fifty odd yards short of their location.

"Considering how fucked we were, I'm fine." Stormsong slapped Windwolf's hands away from the bloody bandage on her leg. "We didn't stop it - it just left."

Heat flushed over Tinker, and the sounds around her went muffled, as if someone wrapped invisible wool around her head. It was dawning on her that she'd been stupid and nearly got them all killed. By returning to Stormsong, she'd pulled the other sekasha back to a fight that they should have lost. She should be dead right now. So fucking dead.

Stormsong glanced up at Tinker, frowned and murmured something to Windwolf, giving him a slight push away from her. Windwolf looked up at Tinker and stood to sweep her off her feet and into his arms.

"Hey, I can walk!" Tinker cried.

"I know." He carried her toward the Rolls Royce. "I have seen you do it."

Tinker sighed at the nuances lost in the translation. This was how she ended up married to Windwolf - she accepted his betrothal gift without realizing he was proposing to her. "There is nothing wrong with my legs."

He eyed her bare legs draped over his arm. "No. There is not. They are very nice legs."

She studied him. All told, they had spent very little time with each other and she was still getting to know him. She was beginning to suspect, though, that he had a very subtle but strong sense of humor. "Are you teasing me?"

He said nothing but the corners of his eyes crinkled with a suppressed smile.

She smacked him lightly in the shoulder for teasing her. "You don't have to carry me!"

"But I like to."

"Windwolf," she whined.

He kissed her on her forehead. "You might think you are well, but you are in truth pale and wobbly. You have done what was needed. Let me care for you."

If she insisted on walking, she ran the risk of falling flat on her face. What harm could letting him carry her, except to her pride? Like so often since he charged into her life, Windwolf left only bad choices for her to make in order to protect her sense of free will - and she was too smart to choose stupidity. Sighing, she lay her head on his shoulder and let him carry her.

He tucked her into the Rolls and slid in beside her. Pony got into the front, alongside the sekasha who was driving.

She noticed that her T-shirt was shredded over her stomach. Under the tattered material, five shallow claw marks cut across her abdomen; barely breaking the skin, the wounds were already crusted over with scabs. A fraction of an inch deeper, and she would have been gutted. She started to shake.

"All is well, you are fine." Windwolf murmured, holding her.

"I felt so helpless. There was nothing I could do to hurt it. I wish I could do the things you do."

"You can. I gave you that ability when I made you a Wind Clan domana."

"I know, I know, I have the genetic key to the Wind Clan Spell Stones." Which was how the monster sucked power through her. "What I don't know is how to use the Spell Stones. I want to learn."

"I was wrong not to teach you earlier." He took her hand. "I allow myself to be distracted from my duties to you at Aum Renau; I should have started to teach you then."

"You'll teach me now?"

"Tomorrow we will start your lessons," he kissed her knuckles. "You will also have to learn how to use a sword."