Page 147 of Her Wolf

He used it to cleanse. To kill. To maim.

A dog whimpered, almost inaudible above a penetrating whine.

He lifted a hand and touched his ear. Wet. Blood.

His face was too tight.

Sunburnt.

Another whimper, the only sound except for the hungry gnaw of the fire consuming the tinder box they’d so carelessly walked into.

Accelerant.

In his eagerness to get close to Eleodora again, he’d dismissed that faint scent lingering in the air.

A mistake he’d never make again.