Free Cold Mercy (Northern Wolves) by Sadie Hart Page A

next and the next. He wouldn’t be some slave.
    “You left me,” she said again, and the wolf wanted nothing more than to tuck his tail and whimper.
    Bay snarled at her instead, revealing a line of white teeth. But when her hand fisted over the fur behind his ears and she leaned her face close to his, those eyes eating at his soul, his resistance started to fade. “You fight, but you can’t win. You’re mine.”
    The words sang through him, filling him until the animal had pushed him aside and Bay lay hunkered in the back of the wolf’s mind, as if tied there by invisible chains. He struggled, but the monster was now in control again. He had the feeling the animal thought he was stupid for making her mad, for challenging her dominance.
    And so once again, Bay was helpless in his own body.
    Though this time at least, he got to see everything.
    Wolves poured out of the shadows left by the trees. Each one as white as the snow they walked on. Black eyes stared out at him from all of them, as empty as the pits that glowered down at him from the woman in front of him. “I’m Morrigan. Your Queen. Bow to me.”
    The wolf dropped his head, but out of the corner of his eye, Bay could see every other wolf drop its head too. Were they all like him? Human? The man last night, did that mean he was alive? Her hand touched his cheek, sliding under his chin as she lifted his head up by his muzzle. Morrigan leaned in, blood dripping from her smile as she met his eyes. Pride evident in the curve of her lips.
    “You are all mine now. That is all that matters.”
    So he was right, then? They’d all been human once? But who?
    One by one the wolves crowded closer, her long fingers stroking through their wintry fur. He watched as they cringed under her touch even as they wiggled closer, both terrified of her and craving her affection. She seemed to grow stronger with every touch, her face slowly becoming less gaunt, and all the while, her lips bled and bled. Red droplets struck the snow, staining the ground beneath her.
    She was feeding from them, Bay realized.
    When the last of her wolves slunk away, one brushing up against Bay as they crowded in behind him, Morrigan turned and laid one bare palm against a tree. She seemed to shudder and a small moan slipped from her as her body rocked under some invisible force. A crack ripped through the forest and Bay startled, feeling the wolves shuffle behind him, the air around them suddenly uncertain.
    Sulfur touched his nose and he breathed in the sharp scent, tasted it against his tongue. Another crack, like lightning across the sky, and bark splintered under her touch. A jagged line ripped its way down the tree trunk, ice and bark breaking loose and tumbling to the ground. Morrigan leaned closer, blood still dribbling from her chin as she blew softly on the opened tree.
    It jerked, wood and bark shivering slightly, and a predatory smile slid over her face. “Wake,” she whispered and Bay felt the rumblings of magic around him. Like the wind it lifted the hair down his back, bristled in his tail fur, but more than that, he could see the black tendrils of magic dancing out from Morrigan’s skin. Tasting over his nose and he flinched backwards, but not before he felt the electric sizzle jolt through him. Then the tendrils reached out and touched the tree, sinking inside. “Come to me.”
    Her voice slithered through the air, much like it had earlier and Bay whimpered against the pull of it in his gut. The wolf wanted to slink forward on its belly and grovel at her feet. The others did so without any hesitation at all, but this time Morrigan wasn’t talking to them. Her attention was focused on the tree, the split wood now writhing with long black worms.
    Bay watched as the tree shuddered again, bare branches crumbling away into ash, until there was nothing more than a huge stump. Then the bark twisted and crystallized, like ice forming over the shell, and he watched as the tree took shape. A