Page 61 of A Wolf in the Garden

When this kid had brought up the livestock attacks during our interview, I knew it was going to be a problem. I’d told him it was irrelevant — the fact that a bunch of shifters from a scattered pack decided to be absolute fucking idiots and poach livestock from farms across New Zealand hasnothingto do with me — but of course I’ve been lumped in with them anyway.

The rest of the article is okay, but I can’t help but feel frustrated that a piece that’s supposed to be focused on the vineyard instead starts out with a discussion on my nature.

“It paints you in a good light,” I tell Ellie. “Theshifter dangeris bullshit. And it reads like a gossip column when it talks about my money.”

“I know,” she says sympathetically. “It’s what I was expecting, even though I’d hoped it would be better. I mean, it could be worse.”

“It could be worse,” I agree. “Though that’s a low bar, given the current state of news articles on wolves.”Livestock AttacksandFarmers Call for Action Against Wolvesseemed to be the only two headlines in every publication I came across in the week following the full moon.

“I…” Ellie begins, trailing off. She looks up at me, doe eyes full of sad acceptance. “I know it’s a different issue, and maybe I shouldn’t compare the two, but I know what it’s like to see the public get the wrong idea about something and then get all up in arms about it.”

“You’ve read a lot of racist comments online,” I say, understanding what she’s meaning.

“I’m not going to repeat the stuff I’ve read or heard people say about Maori over the years. It’s not everyone,obviously; most Kiwis are good people, but I’m not going to lie and say racism doesn’t exist here, when it does. And the people who are likethatoften make a lot of noise. Anyway, it’s a bummer about the fact that he had to go and stick the wolf attacks in the Lost Moon article. If it weren’t for that it would read as a nice piece, and I’d be sending Mum a copy.”

“Definitelydon’t, not with that wolf comment; it’s only going to reinforce her concerns.” Ellie finally got around to telling her mother that we were together — and that I’m a wolf — last week, and I happened to hear the phone conversation. She hadn’t realised quite how good my hearing was; it didn’t matter that I was down near her front gate while she was up in her house, I was able to hear Amaia saying,“Ellie, what are you doing? Werewolves are dangerous,”and Ellie’s voice rising as she argued back.

“Yeah, I won’t.”

I sigh, frustrated. Nothing is going quite to plan, right now. I miss my sister and her pups. Lacey’s residency visas for herself and her sons have been delayedagain, and I have a feeling it’s to do with the sudden anti-wolf sentiment here in the wake of the poaching scandal. Technically she could fly here at any time, entering New Zealand on a tourist visa, but that would start a ninety-day countdown to get her residency approved. At this stage it doesn’t seem wise to risk that, especially now that we are in December and the government agencies will all be closing for two weeks over the Christmas and New Year break.

It’s not the only thing that’s been bothering me. There’s been a definite increase in humans giving me a wider berth since the full moon attacks, reminding me of the weeks just after the Unravelling, when I couldn’t walk down the street without humans crossing the road or darting into stores to avoid me. And then there’s Ellie’s fae heritage, and what that truly means; although it’s been three weeks since the full moon without any further incidents, I still have this underlying fear that the way Ellie’s magic manifested might be more sinister than we are currently assuming.

The morning after last month’s full moon, Nerilina had met with us down on the beach, examining the patch of mushrooms that had sprung forth out of nowhere. She’d watched Ellie interact with them, watched the way they glowed green from Ellie’s touch, and had concluded that Ellie’s magic had manifested in response to my own and the power that ebbed with the full moon.“She feeds off you,”she’d told us both.“You two are an interesting case for sure; I’ve never seen someone use a wolf’s magic to amplify their own… then again, this is fae magic that we’re talking about, and arguably that’s what they’re doing with their own kind on a much wider scale. For the two of you however, it seems almost dyadic, which would make sense given your romantic attachment to each other.”

She hadn’t been able to tell us what the purpose of the mushrooms were, what they signified, or what might happen in the future, and had been annoyingly nonchalant about the entire thing, shrugging and saying,“Look, I’ll do some research and be in touch, but I don’t think it’s harmful. You probably just engaged in some sort of fae sex ritual unknowingly. The moon rules all of us creatures in this realm just as it does in the First; that’s the one thing we all have in common.”

Nerilina’s explanations don’t really cut it, as far as I’m concerned. I don’t want guesses. I don’t want assumptions that Ellie is protected. I want concrete answers, and it’s beyond frustrating that I — thatwe— can’t seem to find them. The fae have always kept to themselves, and those in the First Realm’s upper class are as tight-lipped as ever about what is actually going on. Nobody really knows how dangerous the fae are now — the threat has to be significant, for that to be the driving factor behind the Unravelling — and I’m terrified that Ellie might be drawn into this.

She won’t be the only one, either. There must be plenty more changelings like her, and it makes me feel sick to think that there’s probably someone else out there right now being stalked and taken by the fae. We already know that some have been kidnapped.Human batteriesis the term Nerilina used, and something tells me she knows more than she’s letting on.

Still, I’m selfish enough that I’m not going to do anything further about it. I’m not a superhero. I’m not interested in saving anyone else if it’s going to draw more attention to us, to Ellie, and put her in further danger. I spent nine years longing for this woman, and now that I have her back, all I want is to live a normal life with her. So no, I’m not going to go out of my way to save other changeling humans that might be troubled by the fae, and I don’t care if that makes me a monster.I have to keep Ellie safe.

With our moods soured, the sizzle of the frying pan and the oddsnipof Ellie’s scissors are the only sounds that fill the silence.

“How was your day?” I ask, doing my best to sound light-hearted.

“It was good. I got lots of work done. Mainly admin, but it was nice to catch up on things.”

“That’s good.”

“I caught up with Ana and Betty for lunch too, so that was nice.” She laughs, shaking her head as she tucks flower stems into her chosen vase.

“Were they fetishising wolves again?”

I can tell by the way Ellie giggles that the answer isyes. We’d bumped into the two old ladies while walking along one of the larger beaches two weeks ago, and they’d acted more like teenagers than women in their 70s at the sight of Ellie and I holding hands. Afterwards she’d received multiple typo-laden text messages from the two of them, demanding details.

“Betty asked if you have any great-uncles that are single.”

My laugh is loud in the quiet kitchen. “You’re joking.”

“I wish I was!”

Ellie sets the completed arrangement on the dining table, returning to sweep up the mess of leaves and discarded stems. When she’s done, I’m just about to add fresh pasta to a pot of boiling water, but she stops me with a hand on my arm, and reaches in front of me to turn off the stove.

“What —”

“It can wait,” she says, taking the pasta from my hand and setting it back down on the counter. “I think we both need to feel good this evening.” Her voice is quiet, but I know that tone, and I don’t bother disagreeing with her.

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