Where Foxes Hunt with Wolves - K.A. Merikan Page 0,109

the farm always got him into a state of agitation, which meant this issue mattered to his heart, even if his brain didn’t want to accept it. Jessika and her dad were growing impatient, and once she had her glorious fox photoshoot, she might not want to deal with the farm anymore.

He’d never felt responsible for anyone the way he did for those foxes. His mom had a caregiver and a lot of savings to tide her over, but the foxes had no one to advocate for their wellbeing. Just him.

He left his family home, which seemed comically large after the comfort of Yev’s cabin. All the big decisions that waited to be made weighed down his heart so much he didn’t even try to strike up a conversation with Mrs. Irena, whom he stumbled upon in the driveway. She’d mentioned being late because of her daughter’s illness, but since it didn’t sound like anything alarming, Radek went on his way, hoping Mom wouldn’t give the poor woman too much grief. It wasn’t as if she had anything other than shopping planned for the day.

He wondered whether he shouldn’t visit Mrs. Stępień’s place to buy fresh eggs, but she’d surely ask him about his mom, and about Cracow, and, worst of all, about his future plans, so he turned on his heel and headed toward the church, which he’d have to pass on the way home.

Home.

His eyes itched when he realized that the place he’d grown up in had stopped being his sanctuary. It was a nice building, with some cool features and lots of space, but in the past few years every visit had resulted in anger and stress. Maybe his need to leave the valley had never been about Dybukowo itself?

When exactly had his relationship with Mom become so toxic? It had been far from ideal long before Dad’s untimely death, but without the buffer of his presence, their family had disintegrated. He didn’t know what to do, because she was still his mother, and as uncomfortable as she made him, he did not want to lose her completely.

The weather was an extension of Radek’s mood. The sun that had been such a prominent presence in the past few weeks was now hidden behind a dense layer of white and stormy clouds, which turned the world around Radek into a dreary, colorless pit of gloom. With the gray-stained color palette, the dirt mixed with the snow on the road, and the spots of yellow where some animals—or people—had relieved themselves stood out way more, completing the misery of Radek’s existence. At least once he entered the woods, the trees and evergreen bushes provided a little bit of color.

He only hoped it wouldn’t start to snow, because that would have made his way back to the forester’s lodge much longer and less pleasant.

The farther he was from the village, the lighter his heart was. In their little bubble with Yev and Coal, Radek was at peace. Yev took so much off his shoulders, and while he never demanded anything in return, Radek was eager to make his life sweet. Prepare him hot cocoa, cuddle, watch TV together, and ride on his big bad wolf’s back. Because he could.

The wind howled somewhere above, singing sad ballads about the knight Hnat calling out to the ghost of his murdered wife before eventually falling to his death. About devils playing a game of dice over the fate of the Bieszczady Mountains where magic somehow soaked into the mundanity of Radek’s life.

What if his transformation was some kind of message? What if he wasn’t meant to leave? What if the mountains—as unbelievable as it seemed—wanted him to stay and find the people he truly belonged to and take care of them.

Only… he’d already found them. And he held their fates in his hand.

The trapped foxes his family and others had exploited for years.

He felt sick.

He might have vomited if the sound of a branch breaking under someone’s weight hadn’t made him look up. But it wasn’t a person who watched him from the hillside nearby. It was a wolf.

No. Two.

His heart began to race because he only needed half a second to know neither of them was Yev. He’d have recognized the black fur, silver eyes, and most of all, his scent, in the dead of night.

But he’d also seen Yev shifted enough times to know the difference between a wolf and werewolf, because Yev was as big as a tiger when transformed.