The Blood Wolves | Vol.3, The Eldenarian Artifacts ✓

11.

Makaela awoke to a set set of curious, red eyes looking down at her.

She sucked in a sharp breath and pressed her back into the ground beneath her. Her heart fluttered as her chest tightened as she shrunk underneath his intense gaze.

"Did I frighten you?" Dorian—her new companion—furrowed his brows. "I didn't mean to." He quickly moved away from her.

"N-No," she stuttered. "You just caught me off guard." Grunting, she pushed her aching body into a sitting position. Her muscles were on fire and the pain her face hadn't subsided. She could smell the dried blood beneath her nose. The metallic scent almost made her gag.

Dorian, who was crouched beside her, licked his thumb and rubbed it into the bloodstains above her lip. She scooted away and screwed her face at him.

"What the hell are you doing?"

He tilted his head like a dog. "Helping."

"First of all, that's gross," Makaela replied while shuddering. "Second, don't put your saliva on me, got it? I get that you're part dog or whatever, but that's not what humans do."

He apologized and hung his head. "Would you like me to find some water for you?"

She blinked twice. Why was he being so nice to her? They barely knew each other.

"No...that's fine. Thanks."

He nodded.

His behavior was interesting, to say the least. If someone took away the red tribal markings decorating his sculpted back and gave him normal colored contacts, she would've never known he was a savage werewolf known for slaughtering tons of people in cold blood.

Though, he did seem to act more like a dog than a human person. He was protective of her. Now that she was thinking of it, he hadn't really left her side since she blew open his cell. She had no idea why. He didn't even know her. She wasn't one of his pack members—or his mate. They weren't even friends. She knew nothing about him, and he knew nothing about her.

Even though she freed him from his cell, he was still a creature known to be born without a moral compass.

Why is he being so nice to me?

"Is everything alright?" Dorian asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"It's just that you look sort of...angry."

She rolled her eyes at him. "That's just my thinking face."

"Well, what're you thinking about?"

The golden-eyed magician pursed her lips, debating on whether or not to question him about his helpfulness. It was an odd inquiry, but she was curious now. Despite only meeting one Redfang once in her life, she was fairly certain she knew how they were supposed to act. And Dorian definitely didn't fit their description.

She decided to drop it. Maybe Nyghtmir had put him in rehabilitation classes to turn him into a tamer version of himself.

"I was thinking: 'where the hell are we'?" she replied.

They weren't in Vashara, despite going through the portal back in the prison. She and her group, sans the Nightlings, were inside a gloomy cave. A waterfall cascaded over the entrance, shielding them from the dangers outside. Over the rushing water, Makaela heard crickets chirping in the air.

She looked around the cave. Crystals sparkled in the craggy ceiling, glinting with the faint light seeping in through the opening at the mouth of the cave. Off to the side, Emile and Amora stood whispering to themselves.