Ruler (Wolves of Royal Paynes #2) - Kiki Burrelli Page 0,12

windows, that revealed what looked like flowers hanging on the wall. On closer inspection, they weren't flowers, but food wrappers that had been elaborately folded to resemble flowers. A string of food wrapper butterflies draped from the ceiling, tangling with birds and vines.

It looked like a secret garden, a forest oasis, made entirely of trash.

Dog growled low, and I spun into a crouch, searching for the danger. Dog wasn't facing the wall though, he'd turned around in the other direction.

He bared his teeth. At me.

"Dog?" I took a single step forward, and his mohawk rose in warning down the length of his spine. I had enough sense to realize something was happening here; something had him on edge. Was he protecting me from the danger? The more obvious answer was that he was protecting something in this room from me, but it was empty. And why would he feel the need to do that? "Come on, it isn't safe up here."

Dog thrust his head forward, aggressively leaning his bulk my direction. His hind legs braced against the splintering wood floor, ready to leap forward at a moment's notice.

I fell back, knowing that when Dog looked like that, he needed space or someone would lose a finger. From farther away, I could make out the junk that lined the wall behind him—piles of cardboard and ratty blankets.

The pile I'd written off as a ratty blanket moved and I quickly sidestepped to get a clearer view. Dog swung around to meet me, keeping his body between us but he wasn't so large I couldn't see the medium-sized body curled against the floor behind him. Other than the small inhalation I'd first witnessed, the body remained tight and motionless in a nest of cardboard and loose paper, like a fawn waiting for its mother to return. His clothing was dingy, the same color as the cardboard, and he had brown hair, but this person was much too large to be the child from the photos in the cabin. Now that I knew there was someone there, I heard them. Their heartbeat was quiet and slow, so slow I had to strain to pick up the muted patter. The smell that filled the room clearly belonged to this person, but it wasn't as concentrated as it should've been in the air directly around the body.

I needed to see this person's face more than I needed my next breath, but they were too tightly curled, like they were trying to take up as little room as possible. It had to hurt sitting so rigidly coiled.

"My name is Faust. I'm not here to hurt you. Are you Storri?"

There was no response or reaction, other than the person breathing a little deeper, like they'd been measuring them more strictly before that moment.

I kept my tone soft and my words slow. "My friend seems taken with you. His name is Dog. I know it isn't a very good name—"

"He likes it," the person whispered, so quietly I still had no idea if they were a man or a woman or if they were closer to their forties or twenties.

I smiled wider than I had in years. "He likes it? Did he tell you that?"

At first, there was no response, and then, no louder than a kitten's blink, they said, "Yes."

But that time I was ready for the phantom words. Thick, scratchy, and too deep to be female. This was Storri.

I held back from the urge to rush forward and pull him against me. It wasn't sexual. Though there was desire present, it had nothing to do with my wants at the time. I simply needed to be touching him. Holding him.

Because, in my arms, he was safe.

The room shook, leaning heavily enough to the east that the paper decorations swayed. We needed to get out of this tower, but I couldn't pick him up now. I might not have two arms after if I tried, and Storri was already terrified. If I forced anything now, he was liable to go into shock.

"I really wish that I could take my time with you and slowly let you see that you can trust me, Storri. But this tower is going to fall. You must know that."

Storri uncurled his upper half, sitting more upright. He nodded with an animal-like grunt while his floppy brown locks swung. His eyes were the same rich caramel color as the boy in the picture, but with deep, dark bags beneath them. He didn't look malnourished