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The can tah whispered, and Larkspur woke from a dreamless sleep.
Both of his eyes, burning with that Jack-O-Lantern glow, snapped open in the dark. Less then two hours ago he had collapsed under the starlight, aching from fresh cuts and hating the smell of smoke. The Inferni coyotes had destroyed several buildings, but to Larkspur, the act was more then simply one of war. He had warned Haku, and warned him well, that what Gabriel de le Poer intended was not simply destruction. The Khalif’s teachings were powerful even here, and Lark understood what those fires mean. He was not alone in believing that the man who led Dahlia de Mai was a demon.
None of this mattered now.
White fingered paws carried him through the underbrush, stained by wet earth and ashy soot. He did not run, but his speed was great. Somewhere behind him the home he had taken, surviving the destruction for whatever reason, shrunk to insignificance. The voice of the eagle was low, but it was all demanding. If he had been commanded to run into hell’s mouth itself, he would have, so great was his devotion. But the wind betrayed what it had brought him, and when it did so he froze. She was here. After everything he had done, she had returned.
His heart swelled to the point it nearly burst, and then Larkspur did begin to run. He ran frantically, rushing forward, ignoring the aching muscles and fresh wounds gained defending the woman and her child from the Inferni coyotes. Though this was not his war, Larkspur needed to do what he had—to blend in, to appear normal. One day, Haku Soul would fall; if this came to pass, the D’Angelo needed to know he would not be dragged down with the beast. The wolf ran hard and ran fast until the scent grew exponentially. It was like a drug filled his brain and made his senses falter, but the signs were all around him.
By the time he broke the borders, he found the horse wandering away from him. With one loud bark, he announced his presence and rushed forward, tail wagging frantically, eyes wide and gleaming with the same fever-bright devotion that he had always had to the woman that had saved him from certain death.
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