Page 78 of A Wolf in the Garden

“But who arethey?Who doesn’t want us to know?”

His reptilian stare is transformed by a wry smile. “I think you should ask your mate that question. He’s a descendant of one of them, after all.”

* * *

“Ididn’t think it was ever going to be relevant to get into detail about all of the werewolf politics around Mom’s side of the family. Obviously I’m sure we would have talked about it eventually, but —”

Van’s interrupted by the girl working behind the counter at the fish and chip shop, her voice shrill as she rattles off another order ready for pickup. “Three chips, two kumara chips, four crumbed snapper, two deep fried moro bars, two hash browns, two hot dogs, one beef burger, one sausage, and one pineapple fritter!”

I poke his arm. “That’s us.” It’s a huge order, because Van is having one of hisbig meal daysas I’ve come to think of it. It’s to do with how much magic he expends, either through shifting or other means, and I guess the events this morning left him feeling hungry. Using my magic hasn’t mademeany hungrier, but then again, I don’t have the fast metabolism that wolves do. Even when he’s not having an extra hungry day, he still eats more at each meal than any human I’ve ever met.

“I don’t know why they don’t just yell out the name it’s under,” he grumbles, getting up from the plastic seat beside mine to collect the two boxes of paper-wrapped parcels.

“You feedin’ an army, mate?” one of the other customers jokes, his muddy gumboots and black singlet screamingtypical Kiwi bloke.

“Not quite.” I can tell Van is stressed by the forced slant of his smile, his usual charm not quite present. The video footage Kaito sent us was disturbing to say the least; taken on one of the CCTV cameras within the bowels of a huge Mount Isa mine, it showed a deer with glowing green eyes appearing in the dim corridor, before charging at a man who would easily pass for a human apart from the pointed tips of his ears. Both had disappeared in a flash of green and blue light, with the entire encounter lasting mere seconds. When slowed down, the flash of light appeared to be a spinning circle.Portal magicis what Van had called it. A door through to the First Realm.

I pick up the conversation again once we’re both seated in Van’s car. The chip shop is only a quick drive to the nearest beach, and Van hits the ignition button while I summarise. “So, basically, your mother’s grandmother is a really powerful witch, as well as being the head of this werewolf clan.”

“Yes, she’s the head of the Maheras House.”

“They’re all werewolves?”

“All the Maheras? Yeah, what else would they be?” I shrug, and he continues, looking over his shoulder as he reverses out of the tight carpark. “Werewolves make up the majority population in the city where they’re based. Their society — like everywhere in the First Realm — has mirrored life here in this realm to a degree, with technology et cetera, but politically, the Maheras still act like feudal lords. They’re matriarchal, did I ever tell you that?”

“Who are?”

“Werewolves.”

“Allwerewolves?”

He nods. “It’s why, in general, werewolves and shifters don’t mix.”

“Ah. They’re not a fan of the wolf shifter boys, I take it?”

Van pulls out onto the main road. “Something like that. It’s not to say that werewolf men aren’t powerful or aggressive in their own right — most other species can’t tell the difference between a werewolf and a shifter, on first glance — shifter or were, the physical build is almost always the same.”

“Big and buff, right?”

“Yep. If you watch werewolves interact however, you’ll see in general — and I know I’m talking in very binary terms right now and it doesn’t fit everyone — but ingeneralmale weres defer to women more often, when it comes to the final say. For shifters, it’s not gender, but pack hierarchy that matters. And although anyone can be born an alpha, the reality is that on average, there’s more male alphas out there in the shifter population. About 75%, last I heard. So there’s a bit of a conflict there, in terms of cultural expectations between the two different subspecies of wolf.”

I take a moment to process what he’s said, and trying to apply it to what I’ve seen of wolves. “How does that work with your parents?”

He shrugs. “Do you feel like I boss you around? That I don’t see you as an equal? Because I’m a shifter alpha. I have the alpha bark, and we know it works on you. I’d never abuse that, you know that, right? I’ll never use it on you unless you want me to. I should have… I should have asked for your permission, before I ever tried using it on you but —”

“It’s okay,” I laugh. “I’m not ever going to complain that you have the ability to make me come with your voice alone, and I needed it that first time you knotted me. I trust you completely. I know you won’t abuse it. Maybe if we didn’t have the history that we do I’d be worried, but I know you. You’re not someone who is going to abuse your position. And I know we’re equals.” Even with the issue of money coming to a head last night, I know that it’s not really an issue with equality. The problems I have with him jumping in and paying for stuff are partly my own sensitivities around how I view my own worth, and partly his immense wealth and privilege blinding him to the fact that just because he has so much more, it doesn’t mean he should assume that I need his assistance. But when it comes to being us, to being heard when we do voice our opinions, we’re equals, and that’s the most important fact.

It doesn’t surprise me that he’s thinking about the same thing. “With the money thing…” He glances at me nervously.

“Yeah?”

“I think it was easy for me to fall back into the pattern of how we did things the last time we were together, but back then we were already in very different positions in life, and that power dynamic was imbalanced. So I’m sorry I didn’t think about the fact that yeah, it’s fucking condescending to have someone elbow their way in front of you in the supermarket because they’ve decided to pay for your groceries.”

I reach over, patting his thigh. “It’s okay. Let’s forget about it and move on. We’ve gone off on a tangent — tell me how it works with your parents when they’re both supposed to be the boss according to their cultures.”

“Honestly, I don’t know entirely and I do not want to know what goes on behind closed doors, but they make it work. I’ll be the first person to say I think my dad’s an asshole when it comes to a lot of people, me included, but he worships my mom, and sure, they disagree on things and argue like any couple, but that fated mate thing binds them pretty tight.”

Having grown up in a single parent household, I’d always watched Van’s parents and the way they interacted with curiosity. I think about the tender moments I’ve witnessed between them — the small touches and knowing looks, and the way Weston always seemed to watch his wife with a sense of reverence that was reserved only for her — and I know what Van is saying is true. “He’s devoted to her,” I say, and Van nods.

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