Chapter 16

He raised his muzzle to look at me, his blue, human eyes so similar to mine shining with unshed tears. He needed an escape, to cry, to try to feel better, but he was too arrogant to allow himself that at seven years old. It was a squiggle of a wolf, very young, lanky, with huge ears and a snout tinted with slightly darker gray hair, and hands with skinny, hairy fingers. He had excess hair on his elbows and forearms, as well as on his calves. But I was so proud of him, and I was so afraid that something would happen to him, that thinking about my own safety or health seemed silly.

I put my arm around his shoulders, pulling him to the side of my body that wasn’t covered in blood. Mirko rested his head on my chest, his muzzle very close to his sister’s restless and curious hand. Sasha gave a little shout of joy when she touched Mirko’s cold nose with her little fingers, and laughed when he sneezed.

“It seems like someone likes your nose,” I commented, forcing a smile.