Night Song (The Guild Wars Book 9) by Mark Wandrey (best ereader under 100 .txt) 📕

and ultimately one lost board, had eventually changed his mind back, but he still didn’t like fastening the leash to his ankle when Humans were around.

Humans were too often around.

Shrugging, he hooked himself to his board and slid on top of it, paddling out past the break to the deceptively smooth stretch of ocean, forgetting the presence of the Human pack again.

Small swells hinted but offered nothing he wanted, and while he kept focus on the water in front of him, he let his limbs dangle off the board. Finally a swell curled promisingly, and he paddled forward, coordinated and focused.

This was his second-favorite moment, moving into the building wave, judging the right time to stop paddling and push up—too early, and he’d flop back off before doing anything of value; too late, and he’d be in position to watch the wave crash toward shore.

The more he thought about it, the worse he did, so he simply watched, stilling his mind…and then in a set of sharp, quick movements he swung his board around, facing back to shore, pulled his arms in, pushed against the board, and leapt to his feet, right foot forward. It took bare seconds, enough for the adrenaline to flash through him with hyper-clarity.

Now was his favorite moment, both entirely in control and entirely not—at the mercy of the ocean, but finding his balance against its unpredictable power. The wave built, and he angled his board, mist coating his fur as speed and momentum built around him.

As the wave curled, he angled his head enough to judge which way it would break and shot through the tube of it, and for that handful of moments his power merged with the water’s, his heartbeat inseparable from the roar of waves—speed and mist—and the scent of his triumph.

He softened his stance as the wave broke, just before the world fell down on top of him. The board yanked his ankle upward as the force of the water shoved him down, and he let the spin take him, relaxing into the tumble as best he could. It took time to orient, habit never making this part easier, but he resurfaced before his lungs so much as twinged.

Drake snagged the board before it hit him in the face—that lesson had taken him longer to learn than any other, and he had the muzzle-scars to show for it—rolling back up onto the board to do it again.

The wave had taken him back toward the Humans, but he kept his focus on the endless stretch of water ahead of them, and they did the same. He let a few promising waves go, letting the Humans take them in the hopes they’d be pushed further away. They’d all accumulated where the waves were best, so eventually he gave up hope of separation and lost himself in the pull and balance of gauging which wave was right for a run.

As the sun set, fingers of orange and red stretched through the ripples in the water around him, and the growl of his stomach reminded him of shore. The water curled invitingly, and he decided one more wouldn’t hurt.

Paddle, judge, slew around, jump. The rhythm of it kept his mind still, until a sudden intrusion broke his focus. One of the Humans had doubled down to drop in on his wave, too close for the safety of either.

What in every damn Human hell?

He pushed forward on his right foot, trying to angle away, but the other surfer followed his moves, skill nearly matching Drake’s superior strength and balance. Damn Humans, breaking their own rules whenever it damn well pleased—

The wave built, higher than the two and three meters they’d been riding most of the afternoon, stretching four to five. Best wave of the day, and this idiot Human had to ruin it.

They raced through the tube as the wave curled around them, nothing existing beyond them and the water, the Human’s board coming perilously close several times as Drake angled away.

As the shape of it crumbled, Drake grimly held on, determined to ride as close to the shore as possible. Surfers didn’t drop in on each other’s waves, and the other Humans would head to the sand upon seeing this one’s move.

Fury replaced the purity of adrenaline, his fur prickling and his lip lifting even as he tried to navigate the rapidly shifting water. He made it nearly to shore before tumbling off the board, finding his angle faster than ever and shooting back to the surface. Unhooking the leash from his ankle, he kept the cord pulled tight in one hand and dragged it, and himself, to shore.

Clear of the pull of the waves, he slammed his board into the sand and whirled back, hunching slightly to refrain from hurling himself back into the water and dragging the Human—any of the Humans—back out to answer for the shit behavior.

“Aw, don’t get all snarly.” The first Human to emerge, shaking floppy hair back, moved with exaggerated ease. Older than Drake, but not bigger, moving just slowly enough that the other Humans were closing in before he got out of the water.

“You dropped in my wave.”

“It was a good one.” He shrugged, pushing his own board into the sand and making a point to flex as he did so. As though his Human muscles had anything on the ones Drake had developed over the last few years. Drake didn’t have Rex’s build, but he was enough to give many Humans pause.

“You dropped. In my wave.”

“I heard ya, pup. You can’t have all the good ones.” He turned his head slightly back toward the water. “Hear that boys? Doggo here got his feelings mashed.”

“No one taught you to share?” Another Human, bigger than the first, closer to Drake’s size.

“Nah, don’t you have dogs? One’s always gotta take all the toys and