Wolfen

by Alianne Donnelly

  Matron met him at one of the tables. Unlike the other women, she wore loose pants and the same leather vest from yesterday. “Welcome. Where is your friend?”

  “On her way.” He hoped. He’d only seen her from a distance earlier in the day, but he wouldn’t give this woman any reason to assume anything was wrong.

  Matron nodded. “Well, good. You look very handsome. Our fashion agrees with you.”

  Bryce grunted.

  “Did you get everything you need for your trip?”

  “Your quartermaster was very generous,” he said, forcing a smile.

  “I’m glad to hear it. Please”—she waved him toward a table farther down—“won’t you join me for supper?”

  An ear-splitting whistle made Bryce reach for the knife he’d strapped on beneath his shirt. On the other side of the circle, Helena jumped onto one of the tables, raising a clay bottle high. “Sláinte!” Firelight glittered off of her chainmail top, which she wore directly against her skin. It was tight enough to hug her chest, and short enough to bare her stomach. No skirts for the town rebel. No, she wore leather pants, bare feet covered with dirt.

  People cheered when she took a long swig. She jumped down and joined the dancing ring, and the musicians picked up the pace to match her.

  Bryce shook his head and followed Matron to his seat. The table was piled with food, a roasted goat adorned with greens and apples served as their centerpiece. On either side sat rows of bowls, one filled with sausages, another with steaming potatoes, and still another with fresh vegetables. There was a jug of ale to every four people, and a cask of what smelled like wine at each end.

  Every dish small enough to be passed around was, and Bryce took a bit of each to fill his plate. He’d hardly eaten all day. Normally, that wouldn’t have bothered him, but who could resist food like this? He had just enough restraint to use the two-pronged fork and eating knife, instead of shoveling it all into his mouth with his bare hands.

  Matron watched him eat for a moment before she took a sip from her goblet and asked, “Do you have many females where you come from?”

  Bryce almost choked on a piece of potato.

  Matron’s eyes went wide. “Oh, I didn’t mean that. I’m certain a male like you can have any female he wants. I was just curious. Your den isn’t all male, is it?”

  Bryce gulped down some ale.

  “Forgive me,” she said. “It’s been a while since I’ve had the company of a first gen, and all of the ones I’ve ever seen were children. I’m trying to imagine what sort of community they would have formed. If they’re anything like my daughter…” She nodded to Helena currently frenching some poor, unsuspecting guy. “Well, you can understand my curiosity.”

  “You want to know what our den’s like? Look around.”

  At first, Matron seemed startled, but then she took a gander at her own people, a slow perusal of giggling girls and the boys who made eyes at them, mothers cuddling their children and men drinking with their buddies. She paused at the musicians, a small smile creasing her aged face. David was on the wind instrument, playing a fast-paced old-agey tune. He looked happy. “I see,” she said, and maybe she was the first human who truly did. She graciously inclined her head at Bryce. “Thank you.”

  He nodded in reply.

  “I need to ask you something,” she added. “A favor. Look after my daughter, will you? I taught her to be strong and always fight to win. I know she can handle herself out there, but a mother always worries.”

  Of your two daughters, Helena’s not the one you need to worry about. Bryce didn’t say it out loud, but it was there on the tip of his tongue. This woman, wringing her hands about her Wolfen girl going off into the world, had left her own flesh and blood in the dust. Wolfen were by no means saints, but he’d never heard of one abandoning a pup in need, whether theirs or not, Wolfen or otherwise. Yet they were the animals?

  The crowd suddenly hushed, all eyes turned in one direction. The bonfire blocked what they were all looking at, but Bryce’s skin still prickled with awareness. Slowly, he pushed to his feet to get a better view.

  And there she was: Sinna. Her hair was loose and tumbling around her face and shoulders in a wild mane of glossy curls, cheeks red and chin shyly to her chest, but she glanced up every once in a while and her eyes reflected firelight his way.

  As ordered, she wore a dress. But it wasn’t the one they’d given her. It was a sexy little number dotted with white and pink flowers, clingy at the top and flaring at the hips to just above her knees. Her time in hiding had made her pale, but bathed in firelight, her skin glowed with health and radiance.

  And the gaze of every single man in attendance was glued to her.

  Bryce was no exception. He forgot to breathe, watching Sinna edge around the dancers craning their necks to see her.

  She approached and tucked her hair behind her ear, flashing her silver bracelet. “Hi,” she said. “Did you save me a seat?”

  Her hair was shorter than he remembered. Bryce wanted to ask if she’d cut it, and why, but something seemed to be wrong with his mouth.

  Matron cleared her throat, and Bryce realized several seconds had passed while he’d been woolgathering. “Uh, yeah. Here.” He offered his hand, like a damned gentleman, but when she took it, Bryce’s chest puffed with pride and he helped her to her seat.

  He couldn’t stop staring.

  Sinna met his gaze and her brow twitched in a quick frown, but then she smiled. “What?” she said.

  “Nothing,” he replied. “You look…I mean…” Jesus, what the hell was wrong with him? He cleared his throat. “That’s a really pretty dress.”

  “Thank you,” she said, and tucked away a smile that could only mean trouble. Reaching for the ale jug, she muttered, “Maybe now you won’t call me ‘little bit’ anymore.”

  He was pretty sure she hadn’t meant for him to hear that, but Bryce responded anyway. “No.” Never again.

  She flushed and ducked her head, hiding her face behind her hair.

  Bryce didn’t like that; he didn’t want her hiding from him.

  Helena dropped a thick, heavy log onto the ground across from them and sat, tearing a leg from the closest roast duck. “Oh yeah, this is the stuff.” She bit off a huge chunk and chewed with her mouth open. “My compliments to the chef,” she said around the meat.

  Matron rolled her eyes and excused herself to mingle with her people.

  Helena piled her plate high with every type of meat within reach, ignoring the vegetables all together. Bryce and Sinna watched mesmerized as she chomped down on two sausages at the same time. Eventually, she had so much food in her mouth, her cheeks were ballooned to the breaking point, but she still managed to stick her fingers between her lips to lick each one individually.

  By the time she’d reached her left ring finger, she noticed them staring. “What?”

  Sinna came back to her senses first. “Nothing.” She shook her head, twirling a curl around her finger. “Just, you know. Enjoying the feast.”

  “Uh-huh.” Helena chewed quickly and swallowed. “So which way are we going tomorrow?”

  “North,” Sinna replied shortly.

  “How far?”

  Sinna looked askance at Bryce.

  “It took us three days to get here from Haven,” he answered.

  Helena made a contemplative sound. “Three days on foot. We can probably cut that in half on horseback. Not too bad.”

  “We didn’t walk; we drove.”

  Helena’s hand froze on her second helping of duck leg. “Drove…what exactly?”

  “A car,” Sinna said.

  Helena considered that a moment, then shrugged and bit into the thigh. “Works for me.”

  They waited for her to say more, but she didn’t, so Sinna returned to eating her own much smaller portion while Bryce picked at the remains of his. He kept glancing sideways at Sinna. She wasn’t eating enough. They should take advantage of all of this food while they had it. No
telling what, if anything, they’d find on the way back, and there was only so much they could take with them without it slowing them down.

  He searched for something she hadn’t tasted yet, and spotted a platter of cakes farther down on his side. Reaching over the two people closest to him, he picked up the whole thing and set it down in front of Sinna’s plate. There.

  She looked confused by his gesture.

  Helena snickered, spraying pieces of food all over her immediate vicinity before covering her mouth. Making a visible effort to compose herself, she straightened, and dutifully finished chewing. When she was done, she smiled at them, fluttering her eyelashes before slouching down. “So here’s what I don’t get.” She picked up the third half-eaten duck leg, and pointed it at Bryce and Sinna in turn. “You two spend three days in a closed car together. You come here all lovey-dovey and smelling like you’ve been married since kindergarten—you’d finish each other’s sentences if you ever talked—but you haven’t slept together yet. How is that even possible?”

  Sinna’s fork clattered to the table. “Excuse me?”

  “I know, right? What’s with the celibacy schtick? We all know you want to do the horizontal tango. Sitting with you guys is like sucking up love fumes. It’s sickening, really. So what’s the hold up?”

  “Oh my God, please stop talking,” Sinna growled.

  Her mouth full of duck again, Helena turned to Bryce. “Is it ‘cuz she’s a virgin?”

  Everything stopped.

  It didn’t, really. The musicians still played, the dancers still danced, and people still did whatever they were doing, blissfully ignorant of this byplay. Bryce just didn’t see or hear any of it. The smallest instant of time stretched out longer than it should have, and, caught in the middle of it, he grasped for some way to undo it.

  He’d known about Sinna; of course he’d known. He couldn’t not know, as much time as they’d spent together. But to hear it said out loud…changed things. It was real now, part of a conversation they hadn’t had yet—and one Helena should never have been a part of.

  If it had stayed between the two of them, Bryce would have handled it a lot better than sitting there, dumbfounded.

  Sinna slapped her hands over her eyes. “I can’t believe you said that.”

  “What? That you’re a virgin?”

  “Stop it. Stop!”

  “Like he didn’t know? Come on, girl. Get real. His nose is ten times stronger than a wolf’s. He can probably tell, down to the second, when you start ovulating. He’s sure as hell gonna know if you did it with someone—he knows when you want to. Am I right?”

  Bryce growled, hackles rising, claws itching for release.

  “Hey, if the cherry bothers you that much, just ask him to pop it. I’ll bet he’d be on it like that.” She snapped her fingers.

  Bryce’s hand shot out and grabbed hers, while his other drew the knife. He slammed her hand flat onto the table and stabbed, deciding at the last instant to vary his aim by an inch, burying the blade a hair’s breadth from her wrist instead of severing it.

  The music stopped. People gasped, and fell quiet. Subtle notes of fear perfumed the air, mixed with smoke, and Bryce sensed the guards sobering up in a hurry.

  Helena raised her free hand to keep them at bay. Her eyes paled, the first sign of a mindless rage Bryce knew all too well.

  He leaned in close to make damned sure she heard him. “Next time you stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, I’m going to cut it off.”

  “Helena!” Matron stepped forward.

  “It’s all right, Mother.” She bared her teeth at Bryce. “You wanna talk body parts? Which one are you least attached to?” With a light tap, Helena made her own blade’s presence known. “Apocalypse Barbie here would be real sad to see this one go, don’t you think?”

  “That’s it. I’m done.” Sinna stood, pushed past the audience, brushing away David’s hand when he reached out to her as if she couldn’t bear to be touched. “Don’t!” The break in her voice stabbed Bryce through the chest. Helena could have cut him down ten times over while he watched Sinna’s mad flight, and he wouldn’t have cared. Couldn’t tear his gaze from her.

  At the outer edge, the guards barred her way, and Bryce growled when one grabbed her arm. His back started to bow, claws digging into the table around Helena’s hand.

  “Let her go,” Helena ordered, voice loud and clear, and devoid of any fear.

  Matron nodded, and the guards stepped aside. Sinna escaped at a run.

  “Now you,” Matron said. “Do be so kind as to release my daughter.” The sweet tones of authority were undercut by apprehension.

  With Sinna gone, Bryce sought out Matron’s subtly trembling form. “If I ever find her again, I will. That I can promise you.”

  Matron paled.

  Bryce pried his blade loose and shoved away from the table—shoved the table away, so far, it knocked Helena off of her stool. It took all of his control not to go for her throat.

  “Nice talking to you, too,” she called after him, laughing, as if it were a big joke.

  Bryce followed Sinna’s trail and calmed down a bit when it led him back to their little cottage. She’d left the door open, so he let himself in and found her curled up on the farthest pallet, facing the wall.

  “I hate her,” she said wetly, and Bryce’s chest squeezed tight. She was crying. “How could she just blurt it out like that? What kind of person does that?” She sniffled.

  Bryce searched for a handkerchief of some kind, but there was nothing. Except for the blue dress. He ripped one sleeve to shreds. “Here,” he said, handing her a piece. When she took it, he laid down a respectable distance behind her. “Don’t cry.”

  Sinna blew her nose, then tossed the sullied fabric aside. “It’s not like I was hiding it or anything, you know? It’s just not something you talk about. I mean, you and Aiden were so…and I wasn’t sure if…and then Aiden stayed behind and… It just never came up! And why would it? Right? We barely know each other.”

  Bryce turned onto his side. “Easy.” He patted her shoulder. How long would this go on? “It’s nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing to me! She made it sound like I should be ashamed or something.”

  Bryce frowned. “No, she didn’t.”

  “Just because she’ll spread her legs for anyone, doesn’t mean I have to do the same—”

  “Agreed.”

  “I’m not like that. And who would I have slept with, anyway?”

  “Uh…”

  “You see? It’s awkward, right?” Sinna blew her nose hard. “You don’t wanna talk about this any more than I do. People don’t go around talking about this stuff!”

  Enough. “Sinna?”

  “Yeah?”

  Bryce wrapped his arm around her waist. “Shut up.” He snaked the other beneath her head and up around her torso, and settled his leg over hers.

  “Okay.”

  Much better. He tucked his nose into the crook of her neck and sighed, utterly content. Then he closed his eyes and waited for her to fall asleep.

  49: Sinna

  People don’t often know their minds. They talk, and talk, without giving any thought to where the words come from or what they mean. I’ve never been like that, and spending years shut away from the outside world has only made me more aware of my consciousness.

  I know the labyrinth of my own mind, every twist and turn, every hidden nook and dead end; I can navigate it with ease.

  I know the vast minefield that is my dreamscape. I know when I close my eyes at night, something horrible is always waiting for me just around the corner. I take step after cautious step, but the treachery of those horrors, memories twisted into a living, breathing embodiment of my deepest fears, lies in the fact that I can never escape them.

  No matter how fast I run, or how well I hide, they always find me.

  Not this time.

  When my tears dry and the weight of exhaustion pulls me under, I don’t
see monsters lurking in the darkness, don’t feel their rancid breath on the nape of my neck. I have an ally at my back, keeping watch, keeping my demons away. With his arms around me like a shield, I float down a lazy river, watching puffy white clouds overhead. I bask in the sun denied me for so long, and soak up its warmth and comfort.

  The water is so clear, I can see straight to the bottom. Treasures lie there, twinkling and beautiful. I take a breath and dive under, reaching for a golden necklace. It’s farther than I thought, but I don’t mind. When I run out of breath, I inhale water like a fish and keep going.

  I reach the bottom and hold the necklace up to the light. The water buoys me in place, for once not sucking me down or shoving me back up. It’s part of me, and I’m part of it. I close my eyes and feel myself dissolve until I am everywhere, see everything, and feel every single molecule of my body spread out to encompass the whole world.

  I am no longer separate.

  I am everything.

  I belong.

  ~

  A feeling of being watched dragged Sinna out of sleep. She pried open one eye to get her bearings, and found herself draped over Bryce, her cheek to his chest, and his hand tangled in her hair. It was daytime, and she had no idea how long they’d been out, but Sinna had never slept so well in all her life.

  “You know, when I told you to sleep together, this isn’t what I meant.”

  Sinna groaned. Not her again!

  Helena perched in the window, one foot braced on the sill, the other dangling inside the cottage.

  With a sigh that lifted Sinna several inches, Bryce pulled a knife.

  Helena chuckled. “Easy, tiger. I come in peace.”

  “Ever heard of knocking?” Sinna groused and sat up, making a valiant effort to corral her hair before she gave up and let it fall where it wanted.

  Bryce’s mouth twitched watching her.

  “We need to talk,” Helena said, more serious than Sinna had ever heard her. “What you said last night, did you mean it?”

  Bryce sat up, rubbed his face. “About cutting off your nose? Yeah, I meant that very much.”