Page 106 of A Wolf in the Garden

I roll my shoulders, shrugging off the uncomfortable feeling at the back of my neck. “I won’t, not right now. And if you can, I think that’s something we should keep to ourselves. Besides, we’re not supposed to use any magic right now.” If she can use my alpha bark, the implication would be that she could essentially control my —our— pack. That’s pretty disruptive to everything shifters are ever taught about pack hierarchies.

“Maybe it’s because I’m always borrowing from your magic,” Ellie muses. “Maybe it’s an extension of that.”

I lean my head against hers with a sigh. “There’s no way to know without testing it, and I’m not inclined to do that anytime soon. Maybe we’re a unique case, but even so, the fae are still kidnapping people. They’ve been doing it for centuries… it’s about time those First Realm leaders started caring about it.”

Ellie shakes her head. “And to think, I thought the world was pretty safe here, pre-Unravelling.”

A wolf’s howl rings out in the crisp evening air. It’s Seth, beginning the night shift of active patrol here on the vineyard.

“Mmm.Ignorance is bliss, they always say.”

* * *

Given the fact that she’s not a wolf, it’s unsurprising that Ellie’s wound heals slower than the one on my shoulder. While mine is a pink scar after three days of taking it easy, Ellie’s still has a nasty looking scab covering it, and my guess is that it’s probably going to take another week before it starts looking closer to being healed. Between that, and the fact that we’ve been advised not to leave the vineyard, it makes for a slow few days waiting for my parents to return. Everything feels tense, we’re all a little on edge, and time seems to elongate, each day dragging far more than usual. Ellie and I sleep restlessly each night, waking often, though at least when we can’t sleep there’s other things we can do together; the quiet touches in the dark always ending the same way, with my knot buried deep inside her.

There’s gardening that could be done, but we’re both healing, and Ellie’s wound could still reopen if she overexerts herself. Instead, we’ve spent the greater part of three days picnicking in various spots around the vineyard, eating our way through the restaurant’s stores of food and drink, and doing our best to relax despite the situation.

“How much wine and cheese do you think we’ve consumed in the past few days?” Ellie asks now, laying back across the picnic blanket we’re on, her head resting on my thigh. We’re in the lower field, hidden among the grapevines, in our own little pocket of peace.

I snort, taking another sip of the merlot in my glass, a special reserve vintage from Lost Moon. “A decent amount.” Wolves can drink a fair bit more than a human, given our quick metabolism, but with the general feeling of beingtrappedon this land, even I’ve been pushing it. Still, if there was ever anyone to be trapped with, it’s Ellie. “More?” I ask her, holding another piece of brie to her lips.

“Mmhm.” She opens her mouth, taking the bite, but before I can withdraw my hand she captures my finger with lips and teeth, sucking, her eyes full of mischief.

I almost take the bait, but the wordscareful, you’ll have to suck on something else if you keep that up,die on my lips as I hear the noise of paws thumping against grass nearby, and realise that one of the shifters onsite is nearing us, running another lap of the vineyard. I look up just in time to see a white wolf dash past the end of the row, head turned so that her yellow eyes catch mine for the briefest moment.

To keep the number of people here to a minimum, I put all vineyard staff that were supposed to be working this week on paid leave, so the only others remaining on-site are the contractors working on the restaurant renovation, and Seth. My brother has been gracious enough to do every night shift so far without complaint — a testament to how serious the current situation is — patrolling the vineyard from sunset to sunrise in his shifted form, and I’ve been surprised and honoured by the way the four wolf shifters in Kaito’s crew have rallied around Ellie and I, despite all being from different packs. Between them all, there’s always a wolf on duty, running around the perimeter of the vineyard. It’s a huge reassurance, easing that feeling that we need to be constantly watching our backs.

There’s work I could be doing in the office, but I can’t pull together the motivation to care. Ellie is the same; she could be designing gardens for her other clients, or working on specific aspects of the vineyard’s garden design, but after the near-miss on the weekend, what we’ve both needed most is time with each other. Between the shell-shock of the fae attack and the intensity of our fresh bond, we’re emotionally spent, and there’s a level of desperation to our lovemaking that hasn’t existed before. We’ve both joked about how much therapy we’re going to need… but we also both know it’s the truth — we’re going to have to work through this stuff with a professional at some point.

I don’t like the panic that I feel when I close my eyes and remember how helpless I was on the beach, and the self-loathing that’s lingered in the back of my mind since Jenny’s death has returned in full force. It doesn’t matter that I know thatfactually, none of this was my fault. Based on the advice we were given, we thought we were safe down there on the beach, and the way the fae manipulated our minds is not something Ellie and I could have predicted.

I know this, and yet I still hate that I couldn’t protect her. Protecting one’s pack, and serving them, providing for their needs… those are the fundamental principles all alphas are instinctively driven towards — it’s what is expected, it’s what must be done. Ihatefailing, and I failed at this.

Ellie, of course, can sense some of this through the bond. I have more experience practising magic than her in terms ofshifting, but I’m no expert, and although I’ve begun to block her from feeling some of my darkest feelings, there’s still a lot that slips through. It’s not that I want to hide it from her, but she’s the true victim here, and when I see my perfect, empathetic mate tearing up because of the way thatIfeel, I hate it. It’s not fair to put that on her.

“Hey, Van,” she says quietly, pulling me out of these thoughts, and I know I’ve done it again. “I love you.” Her hand brushes over my shirt, until it rests over my heart. “I hate that you’re sad.”

I shake my head. “I’m…” I can’t finish my sentence.I’m fineis such a blatant lie, and she knows it.

“It’s okay to be sad,” she adds. “I didn’t mean that it’s not. I am too. And I’m frustrated, because this is supposed to be a really wonderful time for us, just after our mating bites.”

I nod, gently sliding her head off my lap, before laying down beside her, moving until we’re face to face, our noses touching, our breaths mingling. I stare into her eyes, tracing the shape of her face with the back of my hand, committing this moment to memory. This woman is my everything, and I could spend every moment of the rest of my life worshipping her, and die a happy man. “Oh,Van,” she whispers, feeling what I feel, pressing her lips against mine, her tears salty on my tongue.

I want to pretend that there’s nothing else but this; the smell of crushed grass mixed with her scent, the soft rustle of leaves as wind moves through the vines, the blue sky above us. I wrap my arms tight around her and hold her against me, her face pressed to my neck, her fingers digging into my side, her hold on me just as desperate.

“I’m never letting you out of my sight,” I whisper fiercely. It’s over-the-top, I know, but it’s how I feel right now. Until I can becertainthat no harm will ever come to her, I am going to be by her side every minute of every day, and it’s a sentiment I’ve echoed multiple times already this week.

“I know,” she whispers back. After a moment’s pause, she adds, “Thank you. I always feel so safe in your arms.”

I don’t voice the words I’m thinking, that she wasn’t safe. She wasin my arms, and my size and strength and teeth all meant nothing when it came to those fae.

“It’s not your fault, you have to know that,” she whispers, lips pressed to my cheek. When I don’t answer, she pulls back, concerned brown eyes filling my vision. “Evander, listen to me on this. There’s nothing you could have done differently. You did everything right.”

There’s nothing I could have done.That’s the problem. I just hope there’s something thatcanbe done so that it never happens again.

* * *

“Thank you for understanding,” Ellie says quietly.

---