“How are you today, my pretty girl?” I asked in a low voice, sinking onto my haunches. A black ear cocked, but otherwise there was no response.
With slow movements, I eased the gate open and slipped inside, keeping my eyes on the wall as I sat side-on to the wary animal.
“I heard you haven’t been very nice to the people who feed you, baby girl. What has you feeling unsafe?” I asked, keeping my voice low and soothing.
A whippy tail twitched, and I smothered a smile as I continued to speak to the wall, easing my body a half inch closer to the back of the cage.
It always went like this.
For the first month, the rottweiler had been vicious, attacking anyone who approached her cage. It had taken time and consistency for her to trust me in her space, and last time I’d been here, she had allowed Dan in to clean her kennel without needing a muzzle and a sedative. I was determined to make her like me. We’d been close a couple of times, she’d come as far as to sniff my knuckles before retreating to her nest, but the day she trusted me enough to pet her, I’d feel unstoppable.
“We won our last game in Chicago,” I told her, easing a little closer. “I think we’re in for a shot at the cup this year. But don’t tell anyone I said that, or they’ll call me a jinx.”
I kept up a constant babble, eyes focused away from her corner so she didn’t feel trapped, and after long enough for my ass to go numb, a miracle happened.
I’d shuffled over halfway through the room, head turned away and hand resting on the floor closer to the nest of bedding when a soft wetness brushed against my knuckles. I paused in the middle of explaining the difference between a slap shot and a wrist shot. Shaking off the shock, I returned to my description of stick handling and cast a quick glance beside me. Seelie, the rottweiler who had caught my heart the first time I’d seen her trembling in fear, had stretched her beautiful body across the floor, her nose barely touching my knuckles as she watched me with cautious eyes. Her flanks showed scarring from a history I didn’t want to think about, silver gouges in her fur telling the story of human cruelty. Yet here she was, giving her trust to me.
“You’re such a good girl,” I whispered to her, keeping completely still as she eased a little closer, rubbing her muzzle more firmly against my knuckles. My vision blurred, and I couldn’t have given less of a shit. This beautiful survivor was showing me a level of trust I’d never expected to earn.
And that was before she pulled herself up and crawled over my lap.
“Seelie.” My voice broke on the word. I wanted to stroke her. To show her how I cared for her, but I knew this moment could break in an instant. She was testing me. Seeing if I would act out the same way others had toward her.
I had to be patient and prove myself worthy.
And in that moment, my thoughts went, inexplicably, to Blair.
Blair
The bulldog was snoringat my feet, and my hands were crusted with dirt from patting so many different dogs. I was tired from throwing ball, yet energized in a way I hadn’t been in a long time. It had been hours since my last coffee, and I wasn’t even missing the caffeine fix.
I was, however, missing Cian.
He’d told me he would return, but as time rolled on, I wasn’t sure whether he’d forgotten me. Or found someone else.
Stop it. Positive vibes only while we’re here.
I wandered out of the gate, locking it behind me, and along the corridor I’d seen him walk down earlier.
I took a couple of turns, hoping I could find my way to the front to ask for help, when Katie found me.
“Have you seen Cian?”
The girl blinked at me a couple of times.
“He’s probably with Seelie.”
Seelie. Right.
She blinked at me again before seeming to realize I had no idea who she was talking about.
“Take that corridor there, then first left, then right at the end, then go all the way to the back, second to last cage.”
It was my turn to blink, but the girl was already gone.
Luckily, the directions were rather self-explanatory as I moved down a corridor lined with cages and heard a soft murmuring coming from the back.
Cian was seated in the middle of a cage with a huge black and tan dog stretched out across his knee. A tear streaked down his face as he spoke about… puck handling?
