RED
The bowl of apple-berry crumble was warm enough to make my palms prickle as I shouldered open the front door, nodding my thanks to the witch as I slipped into the night. A balmy breeze toyed with the wispier strands of my hair as I ventured out into the gardens, savouring the soft crunch of mulch beneath my bare feet. The gardens were even lovelier in the night than they were in the day, glowing in the presence of those fat, butter-bellied fireflies that bobbed up and down like chunks of carrot in a soup cauldron.
A memory of a wooden spoon cracked down upon my knuckles, but the rustling leaves in the nearby trees soothed it away. It was strange, to think how much had changed since that night; how much I'd changed, since discovering that Hunter was my mate. There was a time when this short walk would have brought me to my knees, but every one of my steps was sure and steady now, as was the rhythm in my chest, pushing clarity and strength through my veins. The world was so much sharper against my senses, so much larger than I ever could have anticipated. Taking a deep breath of jasmine-laced air, I couldn't help but wonder if Hunter's severing of our ties had been more of an unleashing than anything. I'd never felt so alive.
I was so lost in my thoughts that I almost bypassed the silver wolf completely. He was reclining in the shade of an arched trellis, looking forlorn with his head resting on his paws. The wrought iron structure was laden with the jasmine flowers I'd smelled earlier, their white petals glowing like little stars against a night sky of deepest emerald. A glimpse of gold beyond the archway showed Eddy fast asleep amidst the lettuces, some of which were missing sizeable chunks. I shook my head with a rueful smile, hopelessly charmed by the filly's audacity.
The Wraith lifted his head to watch my progress. I crouched to meet him at eye level, setting the bowl down between us, two spoons jutting out of the apple-berry crumble in silent offering.
"So it turns out you're not just a wolf," I said, thinking back on our altercation with the witch. When I'd heard all of those bones snapping, I'd thought it was the Wraith being crushed to death by some horrible spell. Now I realised he'd simply pushed the Change to its limits, so come to my defense as quickly as possible with a human tongue. I shuddered to think of what might have happened if he hadn't gone out of his way to paint a target for the witch on his own chest. And then there were the things he'd actually said...
The Wraith whined, an apology evident in his tone, but he made no move to shift or otherwise defend himself.
"I am not angry," I reassured him, reaching out to take his head in both hands. His fur was soft and silky between my fingers, the residual heat of his body seeping into my skin. "Only sad that I didn't get a chance to know you sooner. But that's not what I came out here to tell you."
We looked deep into each other's eyes, the blood of his soaking into the moss of mine. I swallowed hard, already fighting back a fresh wave of tears. Goddess, I was a wreck!
"It's okay if you never feel comfortable shifting around me. I accept you for who you are, no matter what form that takes. And I will understand if you choose to leave us at any point, to pursue whatever brings you joy. But before you go," I said, taking a moment to swallow past a lump in my throat. "Before you go, I would have you know how grateful I am for everything you've done for me, even if it was in pursuit of your own agenda. I am alive because of you. I thrive because of you. And for that I am thankful."
Like a moonbeam rippling through water, the Wraith's transition from beast to man was swift, silent and serene to behold. Silver fur melted into moon-white skin, still gleaming with a hint of its former luminosity. His hackles sank into tousled, snow-white locks, streaked with blue where it swept across his forehead. That savage, wolfish strength pooled into broad shoulders and overflowed down a sculpted chest and waist. I didn't let myself look any lower, just in case the Wraith was naked as the day he was born, but it turned out to be a moot concern. The face that formed in the cradle of my hands demanded all of my attention, so beautiful that it took my breath away.
It was something from a dream, hauntingly familiar and yet new all at once, a vision the Orchid Mantis had somehow teased from our minds and tried to replicate. But there were so many details she had missed: the pink scar slashing down from his left temple, through the corner of his eyebrow; the faint smattering of silver freckles across the bridge of his nose; the subtle texture and colour of his full lips, like a cloud blushing pink at the kiss of the sun. I felt a blush rise to my own cheeks as I stared, utterly transfixed by the thought of how that sensuous mouth would feel pressed against my own, trailing down the sensitive skin of my throat...
"You are alive because you persist against the odds," the Wraith said, his voice husky and deep as he scanned my face. There was a wild edge to his keen assessment, a trace of the wolf he hadn't quite left behind. "Though I must confess you're extraordinarily adept at finding the worst possible odds to pit yourself against."
A chuckle caught in my throat, which I made a point of clearing as I dropped the hands that were still cradling his face. Not a beast, I reminded myself, though the Wraith certainly crouched like one, with his head cocked to the side as if listening for danger. I would have to keep my hands to myself; the creature comforts I thought I'd been administering to an ordinary wolf might be entirely misconstrued by the man who wore its skin. It was a wonder that he'd endured my coddling with such patience up until now.
I realised I was staring. "I don't know your name," I blurted out, suddenly flustered to be talking to another person. It had been too easy to spill my thoughts and fears to a seemingly mute wolf with unassuming ears.
The Wraith arched a mocking brow. "What's wrong with being a majestic wraith wrought from mist and blood?"
Oh, Goddess. I hadn't even considered that he'd been listening in on my conversation with Rana. "Nothing," I said, perhaps a little too quickly. "Though I think you could afford to part way with a fact or two about yourself after eavesdropping on my whole life story."
He snorted, but still offered no details about who he was, where he came from.
Suppressing a sigh, I grabbed the trellis for support -- that I no longer needed, but the habit was hard to shake -- and eased myself into sitting position beside the Wraith, who still managed to tower a full head over me in human form. We subsided into a shared silence as he mulled over my request. I didn't press him for time; I needed to gather my own thoughts, a process that was proving to be far easier while looking out over the gardens. Though my heart did threaten to skip a beat when he leaned over me to pick up the bowl of apple-berry crumble, his shoulder brushing mine. I was relieved to note he was wearing ill-fitting shorts, patched together from mismatching scraps of shifting leather. The witch must have scrounged up whatever remnants of lycan hide she could find over the years, no doubt left behind by the murderous flora and fauna of the hell-scape she lovingly dubbed her gardens.
The Wraith offered me a spoon, which I took in silent thanks, waiting for him to get a good scoop out before going in for one of my own. Steam curled off the pink glob of fruit, smelling far more appetising than it looked as I brought the spoonful up to my mouth, careful to blow away the heat.
A groan to my right startled me. For a second I feared the crumble was poisoned, but then my taste buds caught up with the Wraith's and the full force of the flavour hit me. The apple was rich and sweet, tempered with tangy berries and sweet, woodsy spices that married perfectly with a hint of lemon in the gravy. The crumble itself was like a crumbled sugar cookie, delicious enough to eat on its own, with a contrasting texture that took the dish to a whole other level. I only wished for something smooth to par back the intensity a little, like a cool glass of milk, or the whipped cream that Mysandra used to serve with flat cakes on special occasions.
It had been so long since I'd eaten anything substantial that my stomach was already cramping, but I pushed on regardless, no stranger to fighting back nausea.
"This is good," I mumbled through my half-chewed food, swooping in for another spoonful before I'd even finished the first.
The Wraith batted my spoon away, swiping the big chunk I'd been aiming for. "Too good to share," he said with mock seriousness, yanking the bowl closer to his chest.
"Hey!" I exclaimed, smacking him on the arm as I reached over to snatch the bowl back. But the Wraith was quick, far quicker than my eyes could register, and in the space of a blink he was holding the bowl as far away from me as possible. And the insufferable bastard was smirking. "Give that back!"
"Take it back," he dared, red eyes blazing with the challenge.
I averted my gaze. "You can have it."
He grunted. "Fine. Suit yourself."
When he brought the bowl back to his lap, presumably to continue eating, I made my move. I lunged for it with all the speed, strength and ungainly coordination at my disposal, ruthlessly elbowing him in the chest as I snatched the bowl straight out of his hands.
My crow of victory lasted a scant second before his arm snaked around my waist, tightening as he hurled me to the ground. I squawked like a startled bird at the sudden impact, air whooshing out of my lungs almost as quickly as the bowl was whisked out of my fingers. The Wraith brandished it like a trophy, but winning was the furthest thing from my mind as I soaked in the feral satisfaction written across every inch of his angular face, the taut strength in the arm that pinned my shoulder to the ground. His canines were elongated now, as if a surge of adrenaline had triggered the Change and compromised his humanity.
"See?" he said, easing back to let me up. I tried not to look too disappointed. "You persist even against abysmal odds."
I was surprised by how easily and honestly I laughed. It was a liberating feeling, after so many years of trying to blend in with the walls and stay out of everyone's way. "I could've beaten you," I declared, brushing dirt off my spoon. I'd dropped it during all of the commotion. "I just didn't want to hurt you, that's all."
Now it was the Wraith's turn to laugh, an abrupt, barking sound that he looked almost startled by. The expression on his face set me off into another fit of laughter, and soon were were both clutching our stomachs, the apple-berry crumble forgotten by our feet. I wondered if he, too, was unaccustomed to this effervescent feeling, like all of my worries were eroding and lifting away into the night.
"Ah," he said, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye as our mirth lapsed into a companionable silence. "I don't know what I was so worried about. Talking to you is easy."
"Is that why you never shifted?" I asked, cocking my head at the strange boy. Brave enough to face down a Bone Snatcher with nothing but his own fangs and claws, but scared of a little conversation?
"Well," he said, clearing his throat. "There was the matter of my nakedness. It's hard to get your hands on shifting leathers when you're a rogue."
"Fair enough," I said, chuckling at the thought of someone so powerful being self-conscious. A weight lifted off my chest when I realised that he hadn't been avoiding me the past few days. He'd been avoiding embarrassment, which implied that he valued my opinion!
"I know that I owe you an explanation," he said, voice dropping a notch. "And I will gladly oblige you tomorrow. But I was hoping that I could be your Wraith for just one more night."
Some nameless feeling welled up inside me, sweet and aching all at once, threatening to spill over my lower lashes. "I would like that too," I whispered, laying a hand on his shoulder.
He was right; there was much we had to discuss, and I didn't know where we would stand with each other after that conversation. But for now, I was content to share in the warmth of the wolf who re-emerged by my side, curling around my body to shield me from the chill that was slipping into the air. I leaned back into the warm fur of his side, knees curling up to my chest. Together we watched the fragrant breeze wend its way through the flowers and leaves, seeming to echo the Earth Mother's claim that against all the odds, I was among friends.
My last thought before slipping into a deep, dreamless sleep was how strange it was to feel safe in the arms of a murderer.