Chapter Five

Cassidy's world was on fire. Every breath was agony, the angle her teeth met felt wrong, each jostling movement of the wagon she was in sent a scorch of flames through her body. She longed to sink back into the oblivion of the darkness, but she kept clawing back to consciousness, fear and worry making her sick.

"She's bleeding all over the blankets." A dark voice observed. She couldn't see who was speaking because her eyes were too swollen to open. "Don't you think we should stop at a healer my Liege?"

"We can't afford to, not while she is still in fox form." The man from the forest answered. His voice was deep and decadent, like the cake her mother would sneak into her room on her birthday. She would shiver in pleasure if she wasn't in so much pain. "We will have to wait until we make it to the hold in Tyrrim, where Garth can have a look at her."

"I still don't understand, why a fox?" The other voice replied, and Cassidy bristled at his dismissive tone. "She is no longer of any importance to anyone."

"That's precisely the point." Forest man must have moved closer because though his voice was soft, she could hear him even better than before, or maybe it was just her heightened animal senses. "She no longer matters to anyone." The words hurt deeper than she thought they would. It was truth, but being true didn't steal the sting from them. "She won't be missed, no one will look for her, and no one will expect her until it is much too late." It was an odd thing, to be talked of as if she weren't in the same wagon as the men. Of course, they most likely didn't realize that she was actually coherent enough to understand them. She wasn't sure how to feel about having her potential future being mapped out so mysteriously. But, she had no choice in the matter. The fact was, it was true. If it weren't for her mother and Forest man, she wouldn't have a future to look forward to, or dread. She would have met her end at the hands of her own people. The swaying of the wagon helped quiet her mind again, and she lost herself to the darkness.

"Alright little fox..." Forest man's voice pulled her back from the soothing depths in which she wasn't aware of her broken body. She whimpered, the sound coming out strange and wrong from her mangled jaw. The sway of the wagon had stopped, so she assumed that they must be at their destination, the hold in Tyrrim. "It's time to get you healed up." She was lifted gently, but the twist of her body was still torture. She let out a cry a pain, and she could feel her ears twitch outward and flatten. Her muzzle was awkward, and the excrutating pain in her jaw made clenching her teeth impossible. "I know it hurts, but you'll be better soon."

She was back in the warm spot of Forest man's chest, the steady thump of his heart easing some of her fear and discomfort. She still couldn't seem to crack her eyes open. She had taken plenty of beatings in combat class with her siblings, but there was always a healer on hand to mitigate the worst of the damage. This was the worst pain she had ever been in, several parts of her body grinding and grating in ways that made her sure she was broken.

Forest man strode with her for a few minutes before she felt the stillness that came from entering a building. The sound of marching feet made her ears twitch and twist, catching the echoes off what sounded to be flagstones and a high ceiling. She lost herself in the sounds to keep her attention off her body.

"Oh my." The voice startled Cassidy out of her daze. "What is it we have here?"

"Someone in need of your unique talents, Garth." Forest man replied, and she was deposited onto something firm.

"A fox? The poor thing. I will never understand the stigma shifters associate with them. Aren't they all animals anyway? Poor bastard."

"Bitch, in this case." Forest man gave a small chuckle.

"Oh. Oh! A female. Even worse!" Gentle fingers started with her hind legs, "Several lacerations." The touch was clinical, assessing. The fingers travelled upward, cataloging her many wounds. Once he got to her ribs, she gave a squeal of pain. The touch dug in a little, and her breath burbled in her chest. "Three broken ribs. I don't feel a lung puncture." Up and over her fore legs and shoulders. "Jaw looks odd." He poked and she swiveled her head away. "Easy girl, I need to know how bad." He poked again, the pressure so intense she couldn't make a sound. "Broken, definitely. Well, I can heal her, she's not too far gone."

The voices moved into a murmur, as she lost herself to the pain. She wasn't sure how much time had passed in her agony, but the gentle touch was soon back. "Here girl, this is going to hurt. I will need to help you swallow a potion. It's a foul concoction, but you must swallow all of it. It will be harder with your jaw, and the fact that you have a muzzle, but we will get it in you." He cradled her head, turning her on the firm surface. The pressure on her ribs was miserable, but she steeled herself against it. She had come this far, she could last it out. There was the pop of a vial cork, and fingers pried her muzzle apart. Liquid splashed in the back of her throat and she gagged.

"No! Swallow, swallow...that's a girl." Most of the liquid missed her tongue, and she was grateful because the few drops tasted like week old porridge and puke. Her throat worked as she swallowed as fast as she could, wanting the vile mixture gone so she could breathe again. "There. Now. It will take a day. You will sleep through most of it." She could already feel the drowsiness setting in. "Let's get you tucked away here, so I can keep an eye on you." She was gathered up and swiftly deposited on a much softer surface before she could even give a protest against the pain.

It took a moment, but then the world was lost as she succumbed to the potion and slept. Her dreams were fitful. Running through a dense forest in her fox form, happily. Snatches of Killian's hateful face. Forest man's eyes. Her mother's laughter, and her father's disapproval.

She came back in fits and starts. Someone wiped her eyes with a soft cloth and pressed the lip of a cold glass against her mouth, urging her to drink. Then darkness again. There were more murmuring voices, female this time as her aching body was moved, turned, soft clouds of fabric whispering against her skin. And more darkness.

Cassidy gave a sharp gasp as her eyes flew open. She must have gained her human form again in the healing sleep. Her fingers clutched at the pile of blankets and she blinked against the bright light from large windows. The drapes had been flung wide, allowing the daylight to filter through the bubbled glass.

Someone stirred at her side, and she turned her head. Forest man was stretched out in a wingback armchair, staring at her lazily. "Good afternoon little fox. You've been asleep much longer than we anticipated."

"We?" She struggled to sit, an echo of ache in her body reminding her that she had been very close to knocking on death's door. "Where am I?"

"Tyrrim." One of the Lycan cities that sprawled the northern reaches of the kingdom. Much farther from her village than she had ever been. This man must be a Lycan then. She remembered a snippet of conversation that had involved the Lycan King. "Here." He handed her a glass of water. "Drink."

She dutifully lifted the glass to her mouth, taking a dainty sip, well aware that she was firmly out of her depth. "Thank you." She didn't mean just for the water. This man had gone out of his way to help her, and only her mother knew why.

"No, little fox, don't thank me. I have plans for you." He stood quickly, looming over her. "I will give you a day to rest, and then we start your training."

"Training?" She stared up at him, nonplussed. What sort of plans could possibly include her, a half-noble fox shifter with no clan, no home.

"Of course." He loomed closer. "The Lycan King requires your service, little fox. Tomorrow we begin your assassin training."