Page 49 of Season of the Wolf

Her eyes shifted to the hunk of violet-colored stone—amethyst. I hadn’t seen her without it since the ritual. According to Hilda, she used it to create a beacon of sorts, one that would alert us the moment my brothers had returned and awakened. I understood its purpose, but it’d mostly served as a distraction when it came to Elise. Even now, her eyes were glued anxiously to where it sat beside her plate.

In a week’s time, certain areas of our home had been transformed to accommodate our expected guests—the brothers I was equally excited and nervous to meet. Excited because, growing up an only child, I always wondered what it’d be like to have siblings. Now, I was getting my wish.

But then there were the nerves—a trivial concern that resided at the back of my mind. A fear that, somehow, thenewme wouldn’t meet their expectations. I knew I was different in so many ways, and from what I’d been told, my brothers would return with their memories intact, their abilities as refined as the day they died.

So, yeah … I was a bit concerned what their perception of me would be, which made me kind of grateful things were taking longer than we anticipated. The two empty bedrooms were now furnished and sprinkled with personal touches Elise handpicked for the six. Daily, I’d catch her in there, straightening a slouched pillow or picture frame, doing all she could to dispel her nervous energy. This, the waiting, it was beginning to wear on her.

“It will take as long as it will take,” Hilda concluded, her tone conveying her confidence in the process.

She stood after that, opening and closing her hand in a quick flash that instantly cleared the dining room table of our dishes. When I smiled at the cool trick, she winked at me before disappearing in the kitchen. When she returned, she carried a crystal dish in hand and the sight of it made my mouth water. I knew it held the cake I smelled being prepared earlier in the day. It’d been made with real, tangible ingredients, no conjuring involved, so the entire house smelled of vanilla, butter, and cinnamon for the better part of the afternoon. Another quick flash of the hand and a stack of plates previously displayed in the china cabinet a second before were now in a stack beside the cake dish. Being a hybrid had its perks, but having magic would’ve been cool, too.

I guess a girl can’t have it all, though.

All our eyes were glued on her as dessert was sliced and served. This wasn’t a special occasion, but itwasHilda’s way of trying to lessen the tension that seemed to swell within the walls of the house as time passed. Everyone had their own source of contention—Elise’s anxiety concerning the spell, Dallas as the guards reported an increasing number of mutts, Liam and his ever-present concern for me, and my now mirrored concern for him. While I’m sure Hilda knew cake wouldn’t fix our problems, it would certainly make them seem a bit further away for a moment.

A slice was placed in front of me, and then the rest was served counterclockwise with Elise being next. Finally, when Hilda came to Liam, his plate hit the tabletop with an aggressive clank. She shot a cold look his way right after, one he returned.

There’d been something odd between them this week, something neither spoke of, but I’m sure the others felt it, too. When I asked Liam about it, he dismissed the question almost as soon as I brought it up. I dropped the subject, but knew this wasn’t something I imagined, the strain on their otherwise cordial relationship.

I’d seen it in the daggered glances from Hilda, the lack of conversation and acknowledgement between the two. Even now, I noted how her jaw flexed while taking her seat, all the while sporting a glare she aimed right at Liam.

“It’s nice spring has finally decided to grace us with its presence,” Elise said, maybe desperate to break the awkward silence.

Her comment made me glance out the window beside me, at the damp grass that still lacked its usual vibrant green. But at least the snow was gone.

“Any day now, the flowers will bloom and these woods will be coming back to life,” she added.

I nodded with a smile, but my very next thought was of carnage and blood staining the petals of the very flowers Elise had just mentioned. Yes, spring was indeed upon us, but so was war.

No one spoke. Maybe I wasn’t the only one having a hard time suspending reality for extended periods of time. Cake or no cake, our stressors were real, and they were still here.

Even if no one wanted to talk about them.

We finished and did our best to remain just as upbeat as when we first came to the table, but the amount of effort it took was exhausting.

“Well, I suppose I’ll turn in,” Elise announced, reaching to remove her plate from the table, only to have it poof into thin air while Hilda sat smiling. Elise returned the gesture, but the expression never reached her eyes. Only worry resided there as she left the table, headed for the stairs.

“Be up in a sec,” Dallas said with a gentle nod toward Elise. It was his nightly routine to check in with the guards for a briefing before the shift change in a few hours. When he stood and walked toward the front door, I assumed that to be his destination.

With no table to clear or dishes to wash, the rest of us retreated to our rooms as well. It was still too early for sleep, but here in Liam’s bed was the only place I felt relaxed, untouchable.

His broad hand moved down the length of my spine and up again. My cheek to his abdomen, I lay there hypnotized by the steady rise and fall as he breathed. The house was silent. Even with the door to his bedroom wide open, we could have easily pretended it was just us here.

The aroma of Hilda’s homecooked meal still wafted in from the dark hallway. The longer we were here, in this massive estate Elise chose with us all in mind, the more it felt like a home. An idea I was afraid to fully embrace. The possibility it could all be taken away was too great. So much so, it made my stomach ache every time I thought about it.

“We used to play a game,” Liam spoke up, piquing my curiosity right away.

“What type of game?” I smiled against the fabric of his shirt, imagining a thousand different ways this conversation could go.

His fingers traveled to my hair, their tips lightly caressing my scalp.

“It was kind of a word association thing. I’d say a word and you’d say whatever came to mind next.”

My smile grew and I nodded. “Okay, go for it.”

He took a deep breath, thinking for a moment before blurting, “Dog.”

“Bite.”

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