Page 85 of A Wolf in the Garden

“I understand.” I can hear the hurt in her voice, but I hear the truth too. She does understand; I’m sure that in her five hundred years, she’s dealt with more than one short-tempered wolf. She looks us over, nodding to herself as she decides something. “I’m going to go brew Ellie a tea, something a little stronger than the one we had before. It’ssafe,” she adds, preempting my response. “It will help her remain calm for the rest of the evening. She’s had a huge shock to her system. It will take me ten minutes, and that should give you two a little time out here alone, alright?”

“Alright. What-what do you mean, a shock to her system? Her heart is racing, is she in any medical distress or…” I trail off, panic clawing the air from my lungs.

“She’s fine, Evander. She’s going to be fine. She regained a memory, one that’s been buried for goddess knows how long. When this happens to someone, it’s as if they arelivingthat memory, that moment, for the first time. That’s what I mean by her being shocked.”

“But what memory?” The logical part of my brain knows I’m being overly demanding, but I can’t stop myself, not with my wolves out for blood like they are. Neither of them are even coherent at this point, simply howling with pain and snarling with frustration and anger. I’ve already come close to shifting once, despite the fact that it would be the opposite of helpful to take that form right now.

“I don’t know. I read magic, not minds. She will tell us. The tea will help. I’ll be out in ten.”

I nod, jaw clenched, clutching my mate tighter.

* * *

“I’m sorry,” Ellie apologises for the tenth time as I lift her out of the passenger seat, kicking the car door closed behind me, the sound of the pouring rain loud against the garage door. The tea Nerilina gave Ellie was certainlycalming— enough to make her sluggish and unsteady on her feet — and I barely made it out of there without snapping at the elf again for drugging my mate.

“Stop apologising.”

“But I scared you.”

I carry her through the internal door, into the house, down the hall and into our bedroom. “The situation scared me, not you.” I still feel scared, shocked, my nerves shot, my body drained — the same way Ellie looks right now. She fell asleep in the car the minute I started bumping down Nerilina’s long driveway, and the half-hour drive back across the island had given me time to process everything she’d described about the incident and her unearthed memory. I’d pictured it over and over again as the wind and rain battered the windscreen, not really seeing the road at all, only seeing the images in my mind, imagining my father’s pure black wolf tearing into a fae deer’s throat.

I’m not done processing, that’s for sure, but I’m no longer feeling so aggressive that I could tear things apart either. I bend to place Ellie on the bed, but she stops me with a hand on my arm and a weak, apologetic smile. “I’ve really gotta pee.”

I carry her through to the bathroom instead, setting her down beside the toilet. “I can manage,” she says, but I ignore her, undoing the buttons on her denim shorts and tugging them down her legs, pulling her underwear down a moment later.

“I’m not having you fall and crack your head open on the tiles.”

She sighs, resigned, as I help lower her on the seat. “This is so undignified. Will you go, for this part, at least?” she laughs, pushing at my leg, and I acquiesce, leaving the room.

“You know,” I tell her, once I’ve pulled the door closed behind me, my voice raised so she can hear from the other side. “I can always hear you peeing anyway, so I don’t know why you’re so concerned about where I’m standing while you go. It’s a completely normal bodily function, and I hear everything.”

“Oh mygod, Van, don’t tell me that! You’re going to give me stage fright from now on!” I hear her snort, devolving into giggles, and laugh to myself under my breath. This is what I always want; to hear her laugh, to make her happy. I don’t want this oppressive fear that’s looming over us, this unknown. Just thinking about it has pure rage rising in my chest once more.They knew. They fucking knew she was fae and in danger, and they said nothing.

It’s not right, part of me thinks, regarding my mother’s choice to use her magic that way, even as another part of me understands why she did it. Ellie’s description of the incident was understandably disjointed, at times quoting my parents, at other times getting lost in describing the scenery from her memory. I need to ask her to talk me through the whole thing again, to focus less on descriptions of the orange sky and cold water, and more on what happened, and then decide what to do about it. But first, I need to take care of her.

“I’m going to go grab something for you to eat, okay? Donotget up without me, you’re still high on whatever she gave you.”

“Yes,alpha!”

I huff at her sarcastic tone, and head for the kitchen. I return a minute later, with a bag of bread rolls and a pack of cheese slices which I leave on the bed. It’s basic food, but something to fill her stomach, at least. “Is it okay for me to come in?”

“Yeah.”

I help her stand, pulling her underwear back up her thighs, leaving her shorts on the bathroom floor. “You’re going straight to bed anyway,” I tell her as I prop her up against the bathroom sink.

“Oh, am I?” she asks quietly, lathering her hands.

“Yes, we both are.” Our eyes meet in the reflection of the mirror, exhaustion clear on both of our faces.

“Okay.”

I carry her through to the bedroom, dragging back the sheets and setting her down, pulling her shirt off over her head, reaching around her to fumble at the clasp of her bra. I used to think I’d get better at taking them off, but I still haven’t mastered the damn things after over a decade of sexual activity. Ellie laughs breathlessly in my ear. “Quiet, you,” I warn her. “I’m in a mood to just tear it to pieces.”

“Mmm.” Her hands reach behind her, brushing my fingers out of the way, unclipping the bra in one smooth motion. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

I plant a kiss on her shoulder as I tug the bra down her arms, freeing her breasts, feeling the thrum of her pulse under my hands. My tongue licks at her skin, and it’s not sexual… I just need to taste her, to scent her, to know she’s here and real and safe with me. Her hands cup my jaw, bringing my lips to hers, her kiss soft and sweet. “Are you okay?” she asks, stroking my face, running her hands through my hair.

I should be asking her that. I should be the one holding it together, not the other way around, but I can’t look in those big brown eyes and lie. She sees the truth, anyway. I shake my head. “No. I’m not.”

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