It was almost as if they were acting in concert with one another.Cynthia fell forward and was just able to brace herself with her hands in time to kee... her face from hitting the ground. She felt the big wolfhound on her back and he was a heavy dog. She pushed up and tried to gather her feet under her to get up. When she did, he bit down on her neck and growled. He didn't bite hard enough to break skin but it was hard enough to let Cynthia know that he wouldn't let her get up. And it seemed to. Her clothes had been torn, as if she had been in a vicious fight. There was something familiar about her… I scooped her up and carried her inside, then laid her down on the sofa. ‘Let’s get you cleaned up, miss.’ I applied an antiseptic to the cuts on her face, then removed her tattered clothes. She was too weak to protest. More bruises and cuts covered her upper body. I applied more antiseptics, then drew her a bath. As I settled her into the hot, relaxing water, she spoke. ‘Thanks, Will.’. More

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