Chapter 18

The snow crunched under Cato’s feet. He hadn’t noticed but the temperature was colder outside of the stones. He didn’t show it, he couldn’t. The golden eyes fixed themselves on his. The wolf stood before him, head low, his yellowed fangs bared. A low growl shook the ground.

“What do we do now?” Cato asked, forcing himself to sound nonchalant.

“Now you try to tame it,” Boudicca called from inside the rings.

“Simple enough,” Cato mumbled in response.

For a moment all was quiet. He felt the cold against his skin. His pantaloons were tight around his ankles. Cato felt a gust of wind tug at them. There was no armor this time. This was a fight of will. Cato stared into the wolf’s eyes. The golden orbs shimmered with malice and amusement.

A sharp crackle broke the brief pause as the wolf opened its jaws and Cato stared directly into its white-hot throat. The heat was intense as the snow in the clearing around them began to fizzle into pools of water and steam towards the black sky.