Heart's Desire

Chapter 8 - Monty

Except he's not an animal, I remind myself sternly. He's a grown-ass man—even if he doesn't look or act like one.

He lowers himself carefully into the water, and then he gasps.

"What is it? Too hot?" I ask, checking the temperature with my hand. I've gotten so used to bathing Luna and Luca, I thought I had it down to a science.

"No," he breathes. "It's... amazing."

He shivers, and I wonder if he's really okay. "Alright. You'll tell me if it's not, though, won't you?"

He nods once.

I grab a washcloth and dip it in the water, then gently squeeze it over his back and dab at the long scratches that crisscross his shoulder and arms. He makes no sound, and holds completely still, though I know it must hurt—especially when I pull a stray thorn or two from his skin. The water quickly turns pink with a mix of berry juice and blood, and the only good thing about it is that I notice a few of the scratches have already started to heal.

"So, you do heal like a Wolf," I remark, cleaning a long shallow cut on the inside of his lower arm, which had looked a lot worse a few minutes earlier. "Didn't seem like you did, before."

"Ferrault is a dire," he says softly, eyes angled at the tinted water between his knees. "His bite won't heal. Even for a Wolf."

"A dire?" I repeat. "What's that?"

He turns to look at me, his dark eyes wide.

"You don't know?"

"Uh..." I draw a blank. "Sorry, no. Dane probably does. He's all trained up on the Wolf lore. Is that like a title, or something?"

He faces forward again, hunching his shoulders and hugging his knees to his chest.

"No. His nature. And a practice."

"Okay... anything more you wanna tell me?"

He shakes his head, and a shiver arcs across his shoulders.

I get the feeling if I pressed him—if I asked directly—he'd answer, but I don't want to push him right now. It can wait.

When he's mostly clean, and I've got all the thorns out of him, I pull the plug from the drain, and show him how to adjust the hot and cold faucet handles, and how to work the shower.

"Rinse the rest of the dirt outta your hair and get dressed," I tell him. "Then we'll talk about those berries."

He nods, still with his eyes lowered, and I can't resist anymore.

I reach out and slide my hand along the side of his face, making him look at me.

"Hey, Kit? It's gonna be okay, you know," I say quietly. "Dane's a good man, and he won't let anything happen to you while you're under his watch. And... neither will I. You got some learning to do, but even if you make a few mistakes, nobody's gonna punish you for it. Nobody's gonna hurt you here. Understand?"

He smiles—just a little, but for real—and I feel a crack open in my heart.

"Alright. I'll wait outside," I say, and leave him alone.

I gotta be careful; that crack gets any bigger, and he'll slip right through.

~ ☾ ~

I wait for him to finish his shower, lounging on my sofa and reading a book of poetry Noah lent me. I don't really get it, except that it's raw and modern, and speaks to people on the edge—people marginalized by the way they look, or the way they're born, or where they're from.