The little beast was dead to the world for almost a full day. Daivad kept Kitten slung across Max’s back right in front of him while they traveled, and every once in a while he had to grab the beast by the scruff and haul him back up when he started to slide off.

Pait, now that she was no longer so terrified of riding Maxea that she couldn’t speak, suddenly had the time to complain about everything. Maxea needed a saddle, her back was too bony, and without stirrups Pait had nowhere to put her feet and her legs kept going numb and if she had a saddle they could add saddlebags to bring more supplies with them and it would probably be more comfortable for Maxea too and on and on. More than once, Daivad considered taking a sharp turn at high speed and sending the kid flying so she would go back to being scared into silence while they rode.

Pait only got chattier once the sky started to darken and they settled into a hollow for the night. As much as Pait might claim to be a country girl now, a night beyond walls still made her nervous. She paced the hollow with her thin arms wrapped around her bony frame, simply saying whatever words came to mind as Maxea trotted off to fetch a Wolf’s dinner.

Daivad tossed Kitten’s limp body onto Pait’s bedroll and bag and went to find a spot to piss. Pait must have assumed as much, because she didn’t try to follow him, just raised her voice to ensure he was still subjected to her jabbering.

He watched his own stream of piss splattering on the roots of a bush in a daze, still in disbelief at the events of the night before. Being back in Broken Earth again, seeing the castle carved into Mt. Mares face, seeing Nyxabella there in the middle of it all. Once again, being close enough to feel Richard’s magic. That explosive power. But the most unbelievable thing was that not only had he agreed to take care of the little monster, he’d actually convinced Nyxabella to let him do it.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

Daivad tucked himself away and, though he would have liked to have a moment to himself the kid was still talking, questioning if he was really sure the beast was still alive the way it was just lying there, so he wandered back to the hollow.

He untied his own bedroll and laid it out and was just about to collapse onto it when he noticed—

Kitten was on his feet. His slit pupils were blown so wide there was barely any yellow-green iris still visible. Wide awake.

The moment his eyes fell on Daivad, his little half-and-half muzzle scrunched in a snarl, baring all his pointed teeth. A strange sound rolled out of the beast, a high-pitched hiss threaded through with a rumbling growl, and the patches of fur along his back stood on end.

Pait had turned to a statue, one hand extended mid-gesture. Not even her reddish-brown hair blew in the breeze. She’d obviously learned her lesson when she’d run from him back in the graveyard.

“Ay,” Daivad growled at Kitten some yards away, fully aware of how ridiculous he looked trying to talk to a monster. “Relax. You’ll see Nyxabella again in a few weeks.”

Kitten’s face split open in a violent grin that didn’t look at all friendly, and that sound rolled out fresh and loud.

“I told her I’d watch you.” He could not believe he was doing this.

Kitten spat, and grumbled like he was trying to respond, and though Daivad couldn’t understand the sounds, the beast’s body language said it all. The muscles of his hind legs bunched—

And then all those teeth were in Daivad’s face. As awkward and bumbling as the monster looked, he was fast. Daivad caught him around the middle just as his jaws snapped shut an inch from Daivad’s nose. Kitten thrashed, scratched, snarled, and snapped, and in no time Daivad’s hands and forearms were torn to pieces. It was all Daivad could do to get a grip on Kitten’s scruff and hold the beast at arm’s length.

As when Daivad had grabbed him like this before, Kitten tucked his legs around his belly, but didn’t stop hissing, that grin back on his face, black tongue lolling.

“Mother Light,” Pait swore, eyes on the blood dribbling down Kitten’s back from Daivad’s arm.

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“Raar raagh grah,” Kitten said, his teeth clicking with every “word.”

“I said relax, you little shit.” Daivad let his own growl roll out in full. “Pait. Come here.”

“Fuck no.”

“Pait.”

“You’re batshit if you think I’m going near that demon.”

Daivad gestured with one bloody hand to his pants pocket. “Get the coinpurse out of my pocket.”

“What, you planning to bribe it?”

“Just do it.”

Daivad had to hold Kitten as far away as possible before Pait would edge close enough, her brown eyes locked on Kitten the whole time and her wiry body braced to run. With the deftness of a thief, Pait fished out the coinpurse, untied it from Daivad’s waistband one-handed, and darted back to a safe distance.

“Get the stone out and hand it to me.”

Pait gave him a Look. She knew what the stone did. “You want to call another beast?”

“He might be able to calm this one down.”

“I’d say you’ve lost your mind, but I’m starting to suspect you could never claim one in the first place.”

“Hand me the stone,” Daivad snapped, silently agreeing with her.

Luckily, it was only about five minutes before Daivad saw Julius’ telltale smoke flitting through the twilight before coiling on Daivad’s shoulder. He didn’t know how the beast’s magic worked, if he could teleport, if he was just that fast, or if he’d already been nearby, but Daivad didn’t bother pondering it because his arm was fucking tired and still bleeding freely.

Julius was bouncing before he’d even finished materializing. “Huge Man! Snack, please!”

“Pait, get him something from my bag.”

She fished out a handful of nuts and tried to hand it to Daivad.

“My hands are bloody, just give it to him.”

“You do i—,” her scream severed the last word as Julius dove off Daivad’s shoulder, open mouth aimed right for Pait’s palm. The nuts went flying, bouncing off Daivad’s face and chest, and Pait finally gave into her instincts and fled.

Julius fluttered to the ground and hopped around the hollow on one foot, using the other to pick up the fallen nuts as well as a few bugs and a twig or two and promptly smash them into his mouth.

“Julius,” Daivad said, and the beast’s one sapphire eye swiveled around to look up at him. “Nyxabella asked you to help, remember? Tell Kitten to calm down.”

The sapphire eye swiveled from Daivad to Kitten. After a moment, Julius walked over on all fours until he was looking right up at Kitten dangling above him. He blinked.

“Fuck you, Small Cat!”

Mother Light. “That’s not what I’d name Helping.”

Julius chattered up at Kitten in his own language, and Kitten growled in response. Daivad’s shoulder was burning bad enough that he dared to lower Kitten to the ground, hoping he’d be distracted enough by his conversation with Julius that he at least wouldn’t attack Daivad again.

“What are you doing?” Pait hissed from behind a tree as Daivad set Kitten on his paws.

Luckily, Kitten did not attack Daivad again.

Unluckily, what he did was rush off toward the darkening forest.

But he never made it, because just then Maxea stepped out of the shadows right in front of the little beast, her jade eyes flashing, muzzle still slick with the blood of her dinner. That growl rolled out of her as she loomed over the frozen Kitten, the sound filling the whole hollow. Next to Maxea, Kitten’s name finally seemed to fit him.

Daivad gestured with a flat, bloody palm, a sign to remind Max she was not to hurt the little beast, and she flicked her ears in acknowledgement. Julius smoked up to Daivad’s shoulder and whispered,

“Huge Dog.”

“Wolf,” Daivad corrected in a growl.

Julius amended, “Wolf Dog.”

“No, Huge Wol—,” Daivad suddenly realized what he was doing and stopped.

For several long moments, the tiny Kitten could only stare, frozen, up at Maxea. And then—

Inexplicably, Kitten began to strut back and forth before Maxea, chest puffed and his nub of a tail sticking straight up. Only Maxea’s eyes followed the little beast as he made one pass, then another. They all stared in disbelief.

When his strutting didn’t do the trick, he did what Daivad could only describe as dancing. He would hop and spin, shake his butt at Maxea, waddle around on his back legs, and never break eye contact. As if inspired, Julius started to bounce and hum to himself.

How was this what Daivad’s life had become?