*Maddox*
I walk ahead of the stretcher carrying Isla and try not to pull my fur out. If I had thumbs, I might’ve already pulled out enough fur around my forehead that I’d look bald.
Images of a wolf with a receding hairline come to mind, and I almost laugh. But nothing is that funny right now.
What the actual f**k was she thinking?
I already know the answer to that question.
As much as I want to blame Isla for all of this, it’s my fault. She left because I was rude and dismissive. She left because she was upset with me. What else could it possibly be? She hasn’t been feeling well, and I didn’t even check on her today while I was gone to look for the missing kidnappers.
The castle comes into view ahead of me, and I’m glad to see it. I’m not as energetic as I was before, so I don’t lea
