Page 50 of A Wolf in the Garden

“You’ll forgive me for it?”

I snort at her terrible joke, curling around her small frame, pressing my lips to her shoulder. “I love you.” I whisper to her.

I can’t remember the last time I was this content, this happy. It’s different from the last time we were together; there’s no more need for lies, for secrets, no more questioning about when to reveal my inhuman nature to her. The Unravelling took care of that, at least, and sure, it’s a messier world we live in now, but it’s freeing to look in the mirror every day and see my true self staring back at me.

“I love you too.”

We eat the rest of our dinner in silence, seagulls gliding in to land before us. Ellie tosses them a particularly burnt chip, and all hell breaks loose, three of them fighting over it, the cacophony drawing in even more birds. “Now you’ve done it,” I tell her, counting at least fifteen, the bravest ones pacing the sand just out of reach.

Ellie merely shrugs. “Tell me how a werewolf transformation works.”

I toss another chip to the birds, chaos erupting in front of us. “It’s fairly straightforward. The full moon begins to rise, and I begin to change. By the time the moon is fully above the horizon, I am in my werewolf form. I can speak in that form. I am very much myself, I just look a lot bigger, and more terrifying.”

“Do you have to see the moon to change?”

“No. I could be down here on the western side of the island, where the moon won’t show above these cliffs until hours later, and I’ll still be a werewolf.”

Ellie twists her body, looking up at me over her shoulder. “Really? Your body just knows that it’s time to change?”

“Something like that. Nobody really knows the origins of werewolves, but in werewolf mythology, my people say it was a gift from the moon goddess, giving us a strength and speed and power that is unrivalled, with the body and mind of a man and the head of a wolfish beast, but because she is bound up in the sky, we only access our gift on the nights when she shows her full face.”

“I like that story.”

“Hmm. If you talk to an elf, they will say it istheirmoon goddess, who cursed my kind to be monsters, so it’s all a matter of perspective.”

“Those elves should mind their own business.”

I smile, brushing my hand over her cheek, the pang of nerves rising in my gut for a moment before I push it away. Ellie has been comfortable with everything I’ve shown her so far. I’ve shifted in front of her a few times, and after the initial shock in the dark she’s been more fascinated than anything. If she’s willing, I’d like her to meet all the different versions of me. “Would you like to see me, tomorrow night, under the full moon? I won’t be offended if you say no, but I thought I would put the offer out there.”

Her heart thuds a little faster in her chest. “I’d like that, yes.”

Eleven

ELLIE

Ipull up at the gate in front of Cam’s house, winding my window down to punch in the access code. He made it clear after I was done working on his garden last year that I was welcome to stop by anytime, and after multiple reminders I started doing just that; popping by on short notice, usually after the Saturday morning markets, or in times when I was feeling like too much silence at home was doing my head in.

The gate slides open slowly, and by the time I’m parking in front of the huge, custom-built house, Cam is already standing in the open doorway, leaning casually against the frame. I give him a wave as I grab the basket of leftover produce from the backseat, as well as the bouquet of flowers I picked specifically for him this morning.

“I come bearing thank you and apology gifts,” I say, handing over the items. I’ve been racked with guilt over the fact that not only did I hide my non-human status from Cam, but that I didn’t even end up being the one to tell him the truth about me. Van had explained it all to him on the night of the fae attack, when Van called and organised for Cam to go and take care of my chickens after I had already passed out in Van’s bed.

“Oh, aye? You don’t need to apologise lass —”

“I really do.”

“No, you don’t.” He levels a serious look at me, stepping aside to let me pass through the huge door. I slip my sandals off, entering the serene space in bare feet. The house is minimalist in design, made to blend in with the natural surroundings; open plan with huge windows that show off the cliff-top sea views. It’s not hard to get a sea view when you live on a tiny island, but just like Van’s house, Cam’s sits on prime real estate, and the irony isn’t lost on me that for how poor I grew up, I sure seem to find myself befriending insanely wealthy people. Cam was, pre-Unravelling, a very successful commercial property agent in Scotland, and the commissions he made from selling properties that were valued in the hundreds of millions was more than enough to allow him to retire early. Now here in New Zealand, he’s finally allowing himself to work on his true passion: art.

“Is that a new piece you’re working on?”

“Aye, it’s just the initial sketch. I’ll be painting it on a very large canvas soon.”

He’s insanely talented, the ‘sketch’ looking stunningly detailed in the book left open on the table. The figure in question is a human man, standing tall and proud, handsome with red hair and blue eyes, and an expression that is so familiar…

“It’s you,” I say, working it out. “That’s you, isn’t it?”

“Aye,” he says with resignation, his mouth turned down in a frown around his tusks. “If there’s anyone that understands what it’s like to have a significant identity shift in adult life, lass, it’s me. Life in this realm was simpler in a human body; I can understand full well why you’d hide the ears and continue on as you’re always done.”

“I know, which is why I feel very guilty for not telling you sooner.” I follow him into the kitchen, feeling tiny within the orc-sized space, the countertop coming up to my chin. He shakes his head, his salt-and-pepper hair dragging over his shoulders, and begins unpacking the basket of vegetables into his refrigerator.

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