Page 21 of A Wolf in the Garden

I groan as my orgasm peaks, my pussyclenching on nothing. I do my best to draw it out, but it’s over too quickly, the sudden urge to be absolutelyfilledby him so strong I can almost see myself jumping in the car and driving to him now, laying myself out before him like an offering, a sacrificial lamb to the hungry wolf.

“Fucking hell,” I whisper, staring up at the low ceiling. I’ve managed to live a celibate life for two years without much trouble, and then Van reappears and upends that in just over a week, turning me into a horny, dripping mess every time I am near him, every time I simplythinkabout him.

I really,reallyneed that cold swim in the water.

* * *

The swim does do wonders for me; there’s something about floating in the calm water that brings a certain sense of relaxation that I’m yet to find elsewhere, as if the buoyancy of the saltwater quite literally lifts the weight of my worries off my shoulders. I acclimatise to the cold water enough that it no longer feels shocking, but invigorating instead, and I swirl my limbs as if I am cutting through the liquid, enjoying the feel of it dragging against my skin, the pull of the current barely there, waves nothing but a slight upward roll across the glass-like surface. Under the water, the green of my newpounamuis more pronounced, and I cradle it in my hands again, marvelling at the colour for what must be the fiftieth time today.

As it’s a Monday, the beach is completely empty, with not a single other soul around, allowing me to truly appreciate my surroundings. The blue of the ocean in the distance is breathtakingly beautiful, but around me the water is so crystal clear that I can see my toes perfectly despite being neck-deep. From the shore, a baby gull cries, begging its mother for food, while the more panicked calls of a flock of oystercatchers ring out, their bright orange beaks a stark contrast with their black feathers.

I dive under the water, touching the ocean floor with my fingertips before surfacing again with a gasp, hands brushing the excess saltwater off my face. With no wind and a sheltered bay, I feel confident to lean back until I'm floating on the surface, limbs stretched out like a starfish, letting the water slowly push me towards the shore while the odd fluffy cloud passes overhead. I lose track of time, only checking every so often that I haven’t drifted too far, otherwise lost to the bliss of this place.

When my fingers and toes are properly prune-like, and the cold has started to seep into my bones, I finally get my feet underneath me with the intention of getting out of the water. It’s then that I spot something off in the shadows, lurking under the overhanging branches of the hugepohutukawatrees that line the beach. At first I think it’s a person — which is fine — but then it moves again, and I get the definite impression of brown hide and…antlers?

It looks like a deer? Can’t be, they’re only on the mainland. Maybe it’s a big dog, like a great dane.

Maybe it’s a shifter.

A wave of anxiety roils in my gut, all the peacefulness of this afternoon washed away in an instant. There’s still so much I don’t know about the First Realm and all the non-humans and monsters that live there, and despite the reassurances of world leaders — both human and non-human — moments like this, when I justknowthat something supernatural is going on, still make me incredibly nervous.

It shifts again, and for a moment I catch a flash of glowing green eyes, sharp panic rising within me. I’ve seen that same glow before, on the strange mushroom I found in my garden, and it’s enough to get me lunging towards the shore, the water around me now feeling like a death trap. I dive under andswim, pulling my body forward with forceful strokes of my arms, until I have to stop and wade through the thigh deep water, gasping as I search the shore for the creature.

It’s gone. At least, I can’t see it anymore, though my eyes are blurry with saltwater and in my panic I struggle to focus on any one area on the huge beach, my gaze darting everywhere and landing on nothing. I splash out of the water, stumbling in the too-soft sand, and sprint to where I’ve left my keys and towel on the beach, snagging them up and continuing to run. Scrambling up the grassy bank to where my car sits, momentum pushes me forward, so much so that when I see something huge leaning against the car, I’m barely able to stop, slamming my hands and torso into the side of the hood.

An antler, almost as large as me, covers my entire driver’s door.

I breathe heavily, heart racing, as I look around desperately. No one is here.Nothingis here. The beach is eerily silent; perhaps it’s just the stress, perhaps I’m about to pass out, because I can’t hear the birds anymore, can’t hear anything at all. I focus back on the antler; on second glance, it’s not really an antler, just a branch shaped just like one, complete with green foliage, lichen, and tiny white blooms. Still, it’s too much of a coincidence, having just spotted a crazy demon deer on the beach, and I curse under my breath. “Fuck!”

There’s a regular old stick near my feet, and I pick it up, holding it towards the antler-branch, aiming to shove the thing off my car so I can get in and go. I take another step forward, the stick connecting with the antler, and in a flash of green flames the entire thingdissolves, the green fire licking its way up the stick in my hand, burning the flesh of my palm. I yelp in shock and pain, dropping what’s left of the stick and jumping back, watching wide-eyed as it all turns to ash that simply disappears.

What the fuck! What the FUCK!

The burning in my hand fades to a dull ache, and I stare at the palm of my right hand, where a nasty red stripe dissects it from the junction of my thumb and forefinger right down to my wrist. The sound of a dog barking makes me jump with a scream, and I wrench open my car door, diving inside and slamming the door closed, locking myself in. I ignore the fiery pain of my hand, barely checking in my rearview mirror before I am pulling away, flooring it, jolting over the speed bumps designed to slow traffic near the beach. The car beeps rhythmically at me, a constant reminder that I’m not wearing my seatbelt, but I ignore it, trying to focus on what to do next.

The green of the deer’s eyes was far too similar to the glow of that mushroom I found on my own property, and my gut tells me that it’s not safe to go home right now.

I could go to Cam’s house, it’s down the next street.

No.

Cam’s house is beautiful and secluded, surrounded by native forest. If some supernatural creature wanted to murder me, that would be the perfect setting. I’d be drawing that thing right to Cam, and for all that he is a huge orc, he’s the least combative person I know, having lived his entire life as a human without any desire to take part in traditional orc culture.

Van, then.

I feel awful, guilty and scared. I don’t want to put Van or anyone else in any danger, but I can’t think of any other options. I have to slow my driving as I catch up to the cars ahead of me, muttering “No, no, no,” as it becomes obvious that I’m caught up in the after-school traffic of hundreds of parents converging on the roads at once to pick up their children from the single primary school on the island. The slow crawl is almost as excruciating as the pain in my hand, and I spend the majority of the time glancing around and in my mirrors, half-expecting a deer to jump out at me at any moment.

I’m going to have to tell Van about all of it. I hate everything about this situation, hate myself for beingso bloody stupidand sweeping everything non-human about me under the rug for so long, as if I was going to magically wake up one day and be back to my old self with my old human ears.

The traffic finally clears and I step hard on the accelerator, not caring about how many laws I’m breaking today. Apart from the slight shake in my hands, I’m calm on the outside, though inside I’m in a full state of adrenaline-fuelled hyperawareness. I count off the landmarks on the way to Lost Moon Estate, my thoughts bouncing around in my head as I do so.

Almost there.

That was definitely some sort of creature from the First Realm. I know there’s no deer here on Motuwai; they wouldn’t let non-native animals like that loose on the island.

Van’s going to lose his shit over this, I just know it.

I don’t know how I’m going to sleep at night.

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