Page 127 of A Wolf in the Garden

“Do you know aboutwhenua?” I ask, helping to spread the dirt around the tree evenly.

He frowns. “That’s the word for land, right?”

“Yes. It’s the word for land, and it’s the word for placenta. There’s a bunch of words that connect the body to the land and the people that live on it, in terms ofte ao Maori. Likehapu— that’s the word for sub-tribe, so your veryverywide family, and it’s also the word for pregnancy. The word for birth iswhanau, which is also the word for family. Anyway, I don’t know if I’ve ever told you, but when a baby is born, you bury their placenta in the ground; you return thewhenuaback to thewhenua.Mywhenua, from when I was born, is buried in Mum’s front yard, under thekowhaitree.Koroburied it there, and it’s one of the reasons Mum will never sell that place, or at least that’s what she always said.”

I look up, smiling at him through the leaves as we finish patting down the soil. “I don’t think we’ll ever move from this place here… I mean, do you? I love it here.”

“I love it here too. It’s something we should decide together, but… I don’t want to move. I’ve spent my whole life being nomadic to a degree, and all I’ve ever wanted is to stay put. With you.”

It’s a relief to hear him say it. I love this little island. I look at the oldies who have lived here for decades, and I always think that’s how I want to be, still here, still enjoying the laidback lifestyle. I get up, moving back to the other hole, and Van grabs the second tree. “Thesepohutukawa… they’re the perfect trees for that kind of thing,” I say, thetikangaaroundwhenuastill on my mind. “I want to plant one morepohutukawaat the back of the house, that’s the spot that I’d been thinking about…”

“Forwhenua?For placentas?”

“I know it probably sounds strange to you.”

“No, it doesn’t. It’s your culture. There’s nothing strange about it.”

“I appreciate that,” I say. “But what about your culture? Is there anything I should know about? Any rituals?”

“Not for that, no. We can do things your way, when the time comes. I’m more than happy to.”

I start pushing soil back around the second tree. “I guess that means I’m ordering morepohutukawa.”

“Yes, order away.” He’s quiet for a moment, kneeling beside me, his arm brushing mine as we add in the backfill. “We’re putting down roots, so plant as many as you need.”

“Okay.” I pause for a moment, bare hands pressed to the soil. I can feel the life within this tree, and it’s sister that we just planted. I can feel the life in all the plants in this garden, and the sudden urge to give them a little more is overwhelming.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. I’m just… Fuck it. I'm going to do it. Can I borrow your magic?"

"Of course. What for?"

"For this garden. What's the point of being a garden fairy if I don't use it? How different is it than using growth enhancers and fertilisers on the plants?"

He gives me a curious look, but he takes my hand, pulling me to my feet.

Individually, the plants really don't need much, just a wee nudge along. I tap into Van's power, combining it with my own, then feeding it to the twopohutukawabeside us. Their flowers burst open, red blooms stretching higher and higher as the trees grow taller. I stretch out my magic further, feeling it catch gently against each plant, feeling them grow and bloom. It's fascinating to watch, to see each plant double in size, colours popping out of nowhere.

I finish with a sigh, feeling tired, but not so exhausted that I can't function. Van scoops me up regardless, and I don't fight it.

"Everyone's going to get a surprise tomorrow," I say as Van steps onto the newly concreted path that will eventually run through all three acres of garden space.

"A wonderful surprise," he says quietly as we follow the winding path along, "it's stunning, Ellie."

"Thank you for hiring me."

His laugh is a deep rumble, lips pressing to my forehead. "It was a good decision."

* * *

“Van?” I say, my voice echoing in the empty house. There’s no reply, no sound except the cacophony of birds singing their dawn chorus as I step into the kitchen, looking out the window. It’s not yet sunrise, the last of the stars still twinkling above in their final few minutes.

He must have shifted. He does this often enough that I've quickly grown used to waking in the early hours to an empty bed. Usually I roll over and go back to sleep, but today I felt too awake to do so.

The air is still and crisp outside as I slip on my gumboots, closing the front door behind me with a gentleclick. I don’t bother calling out to Van as I head towards the first field of vines because I know he’ll hear me walking through the grass. I’ve barely made it ten metres when, on cue, his joy and love surges through the bond, and a single bark rings out loud and clear across the vineyard. I search in the direction of the noise and spot him almost immediately, the black silhouette of his wolf standing out against the orange sky for a moment before he leaps away.

I keep walking forward, up through rows of grapevines, pausing when his figure — now a man once more — appears at the entrance to the next field. He's naked, his hair dishevelled and his smile wide as he walks barefoot towards me. He’s beautiful in this dim morning light, pupils shining, canines sharp, muscles rippling under tanned skin with every movement, heavy balls and long, thick cock hanging between his thighs. That part of him grows thicker and harder with every step, rising as the knot I love so much swells red and hot, and need licks at my clit at the sight, my pussy already aching with the desire to be fucked.

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