Heir of the Dog Black Dog - Hailey Edwards Page 0,51

me, the beasts would release him unscathed. It wasn’t his blood they craved.

Rook’s stride hitched. Vicious growls rose up behind him. Impact jarred me out of his arms and sent me tumbling across the ground. I landed on all fours facing him. The same hound as before tore into Rook’s back, shredding his cloak and gnawing on the light armor. I twisted to run, tried to go. I couldn’t. My rabbit’s heart beat so hard my chest ached and black spots swam in my vision.

The predator in me snarled. This was not me. I was not this weak or this pathetic. I was not prey.

Rook sank his elbow into the hound’s muzzle, sat up and located me. “Go, Thierry. Run. Stay safe.”

Stay safe. I owed him that.

Running didn’t work. This body lacked that function. Hopping. That was what rabbits did. They evaded danger, not confronted it. Locking down that mentality, I kicked off with my hind legs and launched myself face-first into the dirt. Spitting dirt, I tried again and face-planted again.

Giving up on the dream of leaping to safety, I pushed onto all fours and focused on coordinating a shuffling hop step. It worked. I covered a foot. Two feet. Three. Four. Five. I was going to make it.

Behind me the snapping of teeth set my fur on edge.

Block it out. Keep going. Head down, eyes forward. Be the bunny.

The brambles waited ahead. I skirted the perimeter in search of the holly sprig. Found it. Spotted the tiny hole beneath it and crept forward. Briars tugged out clumps of fur, but none caught my skin.

Score one for rabbitdom.

Squashing the voice in the back of my head saying jumping down a black hole without knowing who or what waited for me down there was suicide, I flung my legs into an awkward frenzied gallop.

The urge to check on Rook was a twitch in my neck. I resisted. Barely.

Snuffling sounds blew moist breath down my back as I scraped and clawed my way deeper. A sharp yelp stung my ears—the hound’s introduction to the briars. I crawled until the light behind me winked out and all was darkness. My eyesight had weakened as a rabbit, along with all my other senses as they were filtered through the skin.

Muted voices drifted up to me from far below me. The tone indicated curiosity more than fear. That heartened me. The púcas wouldn’t recognize this skin as mine, but I hoped they would be willing to bargain for a bite to eat and a place to rest until Rook came for me. However long that took. Assuming he survived.

Please let him be alive.

The farther I went, the more I began wondering if I was alone in this section of the burrow. The hounds might have flushed the púcas farther into their tunnels than I was willing to go. Though I was safe for now, I knew the bramble hedge would thwart the beasts only long enough for them to realize that as shallow as this section of tunnel was, they could likely track me over ground until I emerged in an unprotected spot.

The longer I stayed, the harder I fought the inevitable and the greater risk I was to the púcas who dwelled here. They wouldn’t welcome the discovery of their burrow by predators or its destruction.

I bargained with myself. If I encountered a resident, I would ask for food and temporary shelter. For news of Rook if they had any. They must have spies guarding the entrance. They might know how the fight ended. If no one came to usher me out or guide me in, then I would stumble in the dark until I found the way out on my own.

Rook mentioned returning to Autumn, but I didn’t see the point unless he felt residents of Autumn were more sympathetic to my plight, which I doubted. Living in harmony with Winter, they must want Unseelie rule.

“Who are you?” The timid voice was absorbed by the damp walls.

Try as I might, I couldn’t speak to answer him. Frustrated, I thumped my foot and hissed out an odd squeal. A sigh filled my ears. Faint shuffling as the púca edged nearer.

“You’re doing it wrong.” The voice gentled. “You can’t speak in this form. No one can. You’re going to have to give your skin a voice. Go on. Think it. Let magic speak for you. It’s the only way.”

Pick a voice? Think it? Crazy as it sounded, what did I have to lose? I