down his spine. His breath caught in his throat.
“Sorry,” Darcy said, clearly misinterpreting. “Does that hurt?”
“No,” he gritted out. “But feels…strange.”
It didn’t hurt. But it wasn’t entirely pleasant, either. Much as he longed for her, he suddenly very much didn’t want her to be touching him. Not there, at least.
He stood up again, hiding the mark. “It’s just a scar. Long healed. Doesn’t matter now.”
“But it might be a clue to your past. Your scars are things that your body remembers, even if your mind doesn’t.” She pointed at the wide circle of puncture marks marring his right shoulder. “What about that one?”
He hadn’t been able to avoid noticing that scar. He didn’t need to look at it again. “Don’t know.”
“It looks like a bite.”
His muscles clenched. He didn’t say anything.
“Your friends said that no one’s born a hellhound. That you have to be bitten by one.”
His back itched. His shoulder didn’t hurt, not now, but…it had hurt. He didn’t want to feel that again. He shook his head, fighting back the phantom echo of pain.
“Fenrir.” Darcy stretched up, brushing the lower edge of the scar. Her fingertips felt warm against his clammy skin. “This is when you were turned, isn’t it?”
His breath came in short gasps. He wanted to run, or to fight, but her touch held him captive. “Don’t—remember!”
“I think you do. You just don’t want to.” Darcy moved her hand, placing her palm over his pounding heart. “Fenrir. I know this is hard. I wouldn’t even ask you if it wasn’t so important. Anything detail from your past, anything at all, might help me to identify Lupa. I need you to at least try to remember. Please.”
The rough log wall pressed into his back. If he shifted, he could step around it. He could run, run away, and not remember…
Yes, urged one part of him. Come back. Be wolf. Be safe.
Oh, how he wanted to be the wolf. He yearned to let it enfold him in its fur, insulating and protecting him, as it always had.
But retreating into his animal-self would mean losing his mate. He could let everything else go, but not her. Even if that meant he would have to remember…remember…
Snow stinging his face. Wet shoes, wet socks, freezing feet. Everything cold, apart from his hands. Holding on tight, pulling and being pulled, as the howls got closer. Her little hand, warm in his. And then the teeth, and the pain—
Pain exploded across his back, knocking him out of the memory. His whole body recoiled in response. He doubled over, wrapping his arms around his head.
“Fenrir? Fenrir!” Darcy was at his side, bracing him upright despite their size difference. “Listen to me, listen. It’s all in the past. You’re here now. You’re safe. Whatever happened, it can’t hurt you anymore.”
“Can,” he gasped. His back was on fire. “Can’t do this. Can’t remember. Don’t make me!”
“It’s okay, it’s okay. Come on. I’ve got you.” Darcy steered him into his bedroom, helping him down onto the bed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard, so soon. Are you okay? Do you need me to get Wystan?”
“Yes,” he mumbled. His tongue felt thick in his mouth. “Go find him, send him here. And don’t—don’t come back. Don’t want The Bitch to see.”
Her hand paused. “The serum’s wearing off, isn’t it? A lot faster this time.”
“Go!” He could feel the wolf rising, scrabbling under his skin. He clenched his eyes shut, every muscle shaking with the effort of not shifting. “Please! Only want The Bitch to know self as man, as strong, as mate! Not like this. Go!”
“All right.” He felt her get up. “I understand. I’ll find Wystan.”
He couldn’t respond. Speech would have come out as a whimper, or a howl, or a snarl. Words flew from his mind like migrating birds, no matter how he tried to call them back. The soft touch of fabric against his skin chafed like chains.
“I’m here, Fenrir.” Icehorse’s cool fingers brushed his wrist, taking his pulse. “It’s going to be fine. Just breathe.”
*Poison wearing off,* he said telepathically, since speech was beyond him. *Need more, now.*
Icehorse hesitated. “Are you sure? As far as I can tell, the substance that we found in Lupa’s bag is indeed the same serum as described in Vance’s notes. But I could be wrong. And even if I’m not, I still can’t guarantee that it’s completely safe to take. From Vance’s journal, he seemed to think that it wouldn’t have any long-term side-effects, but