Lydia's Arc

Chapter 1 of 6

Lydia had two wolves left, and she'd spent the full moon vomiting instead of guarding them. She gripped the edge of the sink in her cottage. Her stomach twisted again. Behind her, on the thatched-roof porch, she could hear her little Pomeranian barking at nothing. She wiped her mouth and made herself stand up straight. Four of her six wolves were still missing in a town where hunters shot wolves on sight. She could not afford to be sick. Not tonight. She pressed a cool cloth to her neck and stumbled to the garden. Two wolves waited there, hidden behind the lavender. The dark one lifted its head. Its coat looked like a night sky, scattered with tiny white specks. It whined and pushed its nose into her hand. It knew something was wrong. She knew it too. "Two," she whispered. "I still have to bring four home." Her stomach clenched hard. She dropped to her knees in the wet grass and got sick again. The Pomeranian ran circles around her, yipping. The star-flecked wolf stood over her, ears flat, guarding her the way she was supposed to guard it. That undid her. She was the mama of this pack. Tonight she couldn't even stand. A knock came at the cottage door. Sharp. Three raps. Lydia froze. Hunters knocked like that. She wiped her face, staggered up, and hushed the dog. She pushed the two wolves deeper behind the lavender bush. "Stay," she breathed. Then she went to the door with her legs shaking and her mouth still sour. Erica stood on the step. Blonde hair, wet at the ends. She held a paper bag and a thermos. She took one look at Lydia's gray face and pushed inside without waiting. "You look terrible," Erica said. She set the thermos on the table. "Ginger tea. Drink it slow." She was already moving, checking the windows, lowering her voice. "I saw a hunter truck two doors down. That's why I came now." Lydia's stomach dropped for a new reason. "How close?" "Close." Erica gripped her arm. "Sit. You're no good to the pack passed out. I sheltered two of yours in my shed. I can shelter these two tonight too. You rest and recover. Tomorrow we go after the other four together." Lydia wanted to argue. Her body wouldn't let her. She sank into the chair. The tea burned warm going down and stayed down. She breathed. "Okay," she said. "Take them. Keep them low." Erica slipped out the back with the two wolves at her heels and the Pomeranian watching from the window. Lydia leaned on the table, empty and steadier at once. Her sickness had cost her the guard tonight, and it had forced her to trust her friend with what mattered most. Tomorrow they hunted for four. Tonight, for the first time, Lydia let someone else carry the pack.