Where Foxes Hunt with Wolves - K.A. Merikan Page 0,2

pushed off the blanket to showcase his tattooed body. He was younger than Radek, but bigger, muscular, and an all-around snack.

“Are you not even a bit jealous?” Radek groaned, pulling out the first bottle, complete with a label featuring geometric folklore symbols. “Never mind. It’s not that I’m horny for him. I feel sorry for him. He used to be so much fun, and now he’s the first openly gay village head in the region, making sure people have access to European Union funds for eco-tourism? Is there anything more boring? I don’t get it. Who wants that kind of responsibility?” Radek thought back to his dad, who used to be the village head until a pack of wolves had murdered him two years back. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

Unlike Emil, Dad hadn’t taken the position out of selfless desire to help his neighbors. He’d been a shrewd businessman and used his role and influence to convince the local government a fox fur farm would create much-needed jobs in the isolated valley of Dybukowo. Despite protests from some of the residents, the business not only started but was still thriving, even though it hadn’t benefited the community nearly as much as it had their family’s bank accounts.

“Um… Didn’t you study tourism? Should be interesting to you,” Jan said and stretched on the bed.

Radek scowled, losing all interest in fucking Jan again. “Why are you taking his side?”

“I’m not taking a side!”

“You are. But that’s only because you haven’t visited him at home. He’s recently gotten into bread-making, and last time I’ve been here, he and Adam spent days making preserves for winter. He became an old person within the span of two years,” Radek said, opening the bottle to smell the homemade liquor. He knew it was good stuff the moment the alcohol kicked the insides of his nostrils with its sharpness, but the first swig of the thick, sweet beverage confirmed that one thing had not changed about Emil.

His booze-making skills.

“Whatever,” Jan said, rolling his eyes as he stood, holding up Radek’s underwear, which had somehow found its way between the sheets.

But Radek shook his head. What was the point of getting fully dressed when there were so many hunks around, other than Emil?

Jan shrugged and started putting his clothes back on. It wasn’t midnight yet, so they had a hell of a party to look forward to. They shared some of the liquor, smoked more pot and headed downstairs where the gathering of misfits was in full swing.

Radek’s friends were a whole rainbow of characters. Most of them he knew from university, and they still hung out, even though he’d graduated in the summer. He had no doubt his property in the mountains had a lot to do with their eagerness to keep in touch, but they weren’t inherently greedy. It was just that… who didn’t like a party filled with free booze?

Iga smiled at him and grabbed his hand, her white teeth bright against her olive skin. She used to be his closest friend in Cracow, but now had a very demanding job that offered excellent pay too. He’d have assumed working in marketing and finance would be excruciatingly boring, but Iga not only got to meet some celebrities through her projects, but also went on frequent work trips, with the recent one being all the way to Shanghai. She used to be envious of Radek calling a serene place like Dybukowo home, but now she was the one with an interesting life.

“Radek! I was just telling people about that trick you do, and they wanna see it. You know, where you can recognize people just by their smell?”

The room furnished with natural wood and wicker spun slightly when he faced everyone while the fire crackling nearby. There were about two dozen people in the cabin, and while he wasn’t sure he’d invited so many, he was fine with the excess as long as they didn’t run out of booze.

Radek glanced Iga’s way again. “Yeah. Yes. My nose is like a spaniel’s,” he declared, spreading his bare arms wide before taking another swig of Emil’s gift. Had he already drunk almost half the bottle?

Iga grabbed a scarf from the stack of coats in the corner. “Can this be a blindfold?”

Several long howls echoed outside.

The laughter and talking died down, and Daniel, who served as an impromptu DJ, turned off the music.

“Did you hear that? Or was it just me?” he asked, rubbing his face. “Sorry, I’m