Page 112 of A Wolf in the Garden

I freeze, a wave of self-loathing washing over me that I know Van senses. “See,” he says quietly, “that’s the reaction I was expecting, and that’s why I didn’t say anything earlier.”

“It’d probably be inedible. I’d probably poison us, putting magic in it. No one wants to eat garlic that glowsgreen.”

“It wouldn’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

Ihadbegun to wrap my head around the fact that I’m fae — knowing exactly what I am has been different to just knowing that I wasn’t fully human for the two years prior — but after they got in my head, after I sensed that cold evil, that complete disregard for my life other than as a tool for their own devices, it’s made me feel very icky about my own magic.

“I don’t think your magic will poison us, baby,” Van says in that same gentle tone, his hand still tracing paths on my leg.Comfort, love, warmth. He presses feelings at me until I’m coated in them, until they start to ease the ache in my heart.

But really, nothing is going to ease my worry better than talking to Van about it. “I feel like a bit of a cheat and a fraud, career-wise,” I admit, staring off into the distance. “How can I competitively show my gardens and say, ‘oh look, everything justgrows,’when it turns out I’ve probably been infusing it all with a bit of magic the whole time? I thought I was good at gardening. I thoughtIwas good. I thought it was a skill I had worked towards, one I learned fromKoro, and from my study. Something practised andearnedand steeped in Maori tradition.”

Van’s hand stills on my thigh. “You are good at it. You always have been. I think we can say with certainty that you only accessed your magicafterthat first incident with the mushroom in your garden. You didn’t know magic existed. How could you have practised it? You didn’t. My magic helped to awaken yours further. You haven’tcheated.And even if you did use magic in your gardening, why should that matter? You’re putting too much value in other people’s opinions.”

“But what if all the humans in my line of work start to hate me? I don’t want to hide my ears anymore. I’m horrified by what those fae are doing, and it makes me feel gross about my own magic, but I know I am not them. I’m not associated with them. Your mum and Nerilina have both reiterated that there’s so many good fae out there.”

“Yes. There’s good and bad people everywhere. I don’t see a murder on the news and suddenly think‘every single human is evil because that one guy killed someone.’You can’t paint yourself with the same brush as them, baby. Don’t do that to yourself.”

“I’m trying not to.”

“Good.”

“But what do I even tell people? It was a huge step for me in that article, to admit that there’s a ’touch of non-human blood.’ Is that what I’m meant to say forever, when I know what I really am?”

“You’re a garden fairy.”

I stare at Van, trying to decipher the expression on his face. “Is that what you really think?”

He shrugs one large shoulder. “It seems like the most fitting description. It makes sense, in terms of what you can do. You are still mostly human, after all.”

“I wish I had more info about my father, but whoever he is, he’s probably already dead, or taken by the fae.”

“It’s likely that he was just as clueless as you as to your fae ancestry.”

“True.”

We lapse into silence, both of us staring out at the vineyard. “I don’t have all the answers, Ellie,” Van says after some time, “but I know that I love every bit of you, antlers and all. You are beautiful. Your ears are beautiful, and I love that you don’t hide them anymore.”

“I can just imagineSammy Barnettfrom the gardening club gossiping about how I’m a cheat once she finds out. She’s been bitter ever since my garden was picked over hers for the festival this year.”

Van snorts. “Forget about her. Even if you had used magic in your garden, which I really don’t think you did, it’s not cheating to be authenticallyyou.”

“A lot of humans would disagree.”

“Not a lot. Some.Somewill disagree, yes, but they’re wrong, because what they’re asking is for you to diminish yourself, to belessthan who you really are, for their comfort. The problem is with them, not you. I understand that you worry about that stuff, believe me,I know. But you and I… we have just as much right to exist and live and thrive and be happy doing what we love and what we’re good at as the next person. Do it at your own pace, obviously — don’t feel like you have to rush, but know that you are allowed to take up space. You don’t have to step back just because some human might think so. You can be Ellie, and be that tiny bit of fae that you are, and justbe. And if anyone has a problem with it, they can talk tome,” he adds, snarling protectively around the last syllable.

As much as I like to think that I’m good at being independent when it comes to my career, the fact that he’s willing to be all growly, protective wolf over the issue turns me on, a spark of desire hitting me right in the pussy over his voice alone. He knows it too, giving me that sharp-toothed wolfish grin I love so much, and I can’t help but roll my eyes and laugh. “Okay, oh protective mate of mine, I hear you.”

“Good.”

He tucks his hands under his head, his white t-shirt riding up and exposing a strip of tanned skin and washboard abs as he closes his eyes, the dappled sunlight dancing across his face. I turn back to my design, tucking my legs up against his side and getting into the flow once more, my heart feeling a little lighter than before.

I’ve almost finished the draft when Van jumps up suddenly, giving me such a fright that my stylus slips, drawing a huge line right through the design. “What?” I snap, hand over my heart, my underlying anxiety about everything bubbling to the surface.

Van’s gold eyes glint as he gives me an apologetic smile, his hands tugging at the hem of his shirt, muscles rippling under his skin as he pulls it off over his head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just spotted a wild rabbit up on the hill. Those little fuckers girdle the vines and eat low-lying grapes, and you know if you leave one you’ll end up with ten more.”

My heartbeat is still thundering in my ears as I nod. “Multiplying like bunnies?”

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