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A Thread of Magic Page 13


  ***

  The dark clouds in the distance forecasted a possible storm within the next few hours. Gregor pulled his cloak tighter around him and trudged back to the cave with the wounded shape-shifter inside. Sleep had evaded him most of the night. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her. The sensual curves of her body. The haunted glow of her eyes. The way she alternated between being a fierce huntress to a showing him a glimmer of trust. She still puzzled him. He wondered what she would do now that her injuries were healed. Despite her odd behavior and the risk she posed, he wanted to know more about her and hoped she would stay in the area a bit longer.

  Duke continued his usual routine of digging in the drifts and running through the trees, unfazed by the cold wind or the falling snow. He paused at the barrier of the cave and wagged his tail, appearing almost as eager as Gregor was to check on the wounded shape-shifter.

  He lowered the barrier and expected to find her where he left her. Instead, an empty cavern greeted him. The fire had burned down the embers, leaving an icy chill to permeate the space. The woman had vanished.

  Gregor knitted his brows together and rubbed his chin. How could this be possible? The barrier should have kept her here. The mystery of the wounded wild woman widened threefold. Only a Master Mage could disrupt the barrier he cast last night, and even then, it would take hours to do so. She could barely stand when he left her.

  Duke’s barking interrupted his thoughts, followed by a flutter of wings that came close enough to Gregor’s head to tousle his hair. Duke chased after whatever flew out of the cave, leaving him to stumble through the drifts after the dog. When he came to the tree Duke was barking at, he saw an owl high in the branches. The wind ruffled its snowy feathers as it watched from above, unmoved by the dog below. "It is just an owl, Duke. Leave it alone."

  “No. Different owl.”

  Gregor took a second look at the owl. A sudden chill that was not due to the wind raced down his spine. Yes, there was something different about this owl. Something about the eyes. He focused his mental energy and asked the owl what it was doing. Its silence only added to his unease. Most animals responded to his questions. Instead, the owl flexed its talons and hissed at him.

  He grabbed Duke by the loose skin on his neck and pulled the dog away. If it was his wounded shape-shifter, she was making it very clear she wanted to be left alone. "Time to go home." His voice sounded calmer than he felt. "Leave the owl alone."

  He could not escape the feeling that he was being watched the entire journey back to the house. Every time he looked over his shoulder, though, nothing was there. Unease seeped into his veins and coiled in stomach. His pace increased with the beating of his heart. He was running up the stairs to his study by the time he returned home.

  ***

  Ranealya landed on a tree branch outside of Gregor’s cottage and shook with silent laughter. And here she worried that the form of an owl wouldn’t be enough to spook him. Obviously, he’d been told too many tales of the evil shape-shifters as a child.

  Good. That will keep him from telling anyone about me.

  Her shoulder throbbed, reminding her that her wounds hadn’t completely healed. She glided down to the ground and shifted back into her normal form. The wound appeared almost closed on the outside, but it would probably take another day or two to form a pink scar across her flesh. Wounds from the Azekborn always took longer to heal than ordinary ones.

  She sniffed the air for the scent of brimstone, offering a quick prayer to the goddess Elios that the Azekborn wouldn’t find her until she had fully recuperated from her injuries. When she discovered no traces of them in the immediate area, she turned her attention back to the problem a few hundred feet away. Gregor Meritis knew what she was, and until she figured out what to do with him, she had no plans on leaving the area.