Page 103 of Lady Knight and the Thief

The hound flopped over onto its side, and the enormous tongue lolled out of its mouth. Cypress stood, dusted herself off, and then walked back toward her companion.

“What should we name it?” Cypress asked, a grin stretched wide across her face.

“You are not keeping the Winged Hound, Lass.”

“Rude. She found me. Of course, I’m keeping her.”

“Her? You know it’s her now?” Torren asked, fingers pressed into his eyes.

“I mean, assuming when they were turned into some spooky thing for the Hunt, their genitals weren’t swapped, yes, I canplainly see she’s a girl when she does that,” Cypress said, and pointed toward the Hound who was currently lying on her side, practically already sleeping.

“You cannot keep the Hound, Lass.”

“I don’t think you can tell her that, so what shall we call her?” Cypress asked, giving him a smug smile with her arms crossed over her middle.

Torren sighed dramatically again. “I imagine ye already have something in mind?”

She beamed at him.

Torren hung his head in defeat and asked, “What’s the name?”

“Deja.”

The hound’s ears pricked forward at the name, a small harrumph leaving her chest.

“Yeah? Do you like your name?” Cypress cooed, thrilled with the prospect of the hound accompanying them, despite the fact that she knew that this hound likely participated in previous hunts with fervor.

Again, Torren sighed dramatically, but began preparing a meal for them without a word. They’d only just stopped for the night, hadn’t even fully unpacked the food before Deja had appeared.

Cypress busied herself with setting up their bedrolls while Torren cooked.

What other wonders would the Wylds hold for her when all of this was over?

The large black shadow of Deja had trailed after Cypress and Torren high in the sky and then disappeared some time ago. Despite her size, the Hound flew practically silent through the air, even more so than a hawk.

Or so Torren said.

Cypress couldn’t say if she had ever paid attention to how silent a bird flew.

“Are the Wylds shifting around us for this journey?” she asked her companion while she stretched her neck.

“Not nearly as much as would be convenient,” Torren drawled, looking back over his shoulder at her.

Torren’s mare had become a little snot about being in the lead. Seren, thankfully, didn’t care that much and often dropped back a few paces without Cypress directing her to.

“So we’re not going the long way, but we’re also not taking a shortcut? Is that what you’re telling me?”

Torren shrugged. “Yeah, I suppose.”

“And you’re not lost?” Cypress hedged.

“I don’t get lost,” Torren scoffed and turned in his saddle to look at her. “I know exactly where we are, Duchess,” he winked, and then righted himself.

Cypress repressed a screech as a flush crept over her face and neck. As much as she wanted to ignore the way he made her insides light up,she couldn’t.

Shelikedhim.

Eugh.