Page 58 of A Wolf in the Garden

“Van?” I whisper. He squeezes me tighter again. “What are you thinking? Say something.”

“I’m thinking about how I will kill anyone that threatens you. About how I would tear their heads right off their shoulders.”

I sit in stunned silence for a moment, because I’m pretty certain he’s being completely literal right now. “Okay,” I whisper, running my fingers through his fur. I don’t know if my brain will ever properly reconcile all the different things I know about werewolves and wolf shifters and Van. I can’t imagine him killing anything, and yet he’s told me, in horribly descriptive terms, that he likes to hunt for prey in both his wolf forms.“It’s satisfying, when you feel the snap of bone reverberate through your jaw, and the hot blood floods your mouth.”

A shiver runs down my spine, and I shake it off. “Maybe we should head back,” I suggest.

“Good idea. You can shower and sleep.”

“What will you do?”

“Keep you company. I’ll sleep after moonset.”

“No hunting?”

He shakes his head. “There’s not much to hunt on this island. Besides, when I entered the country, I had to sign a Department of Conservation form that they give to all shifters and weres, promising not to hunt native wildlife. They’re going to do yearly surveys on the property to check I’m sticking to it, too.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“Youhada paddock of tasty sheep,” I joke.

“Why do you think I got rid of them? They hadnames; they would have been delicious, but,” he shrugs one huge shoulder, “I always feel guilty if I eat the named ones. And people would have figured it out, if only one sheep went missing a month. It’s too obvious. Let’s not give these locals anything more to gossip about.”

“Can you imagine, if one of them saw what we did?”

He shakes his head, helping me to my feet. “What was that word you used?Monsterfucker. That’s one way to make the local news, for sure. Have your naked ass plastered across the front page while you’re bent over giving a werewolf a blowjob.”

“Honey, I think you imagined that. I didn’t even get a good look at your dick.”

He bends low, teeth scraping my shoulder, making me shudder. “Next month,” he growls, breath hot on my neck, making my pussy ache all over again.

I slip into the clothes I wore yesterday evening — my phone reads 2:41 AM — and together we fold up the blankets, Van’s tail wagging adorably as I step near him to plant a kiss on his stomach, which is as high as my mouth reaches when I stand next to his hulking frame.

I’m not paying attention to what’s underneath when I begin to pack up the picnic mat, and it’s only Van’s snarl that has me looking properly at the ground, the scrunched-up mat in my arms forgotten. There’s a large patch of mushrooms — a whole array of them: white, purple, spotted, smooth — directly under where I’d lain sleeping. I reach out and touch one, a green glow jumping from my fingers, setting off a chain reaction, a cascade of green light that ripples outwards across the entire patch, blindingly bright in the dark.

“Fuck,” Van swears.

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

The Motuwai Chronicles

DECEMBER EDITION

The Wolf, the Vineyard, and the Bid for a Winning Garden

Reporting by Ben Smith

Evander Livingston calls his newly-purchased vineyard, Lost Moon Estate Winery, his “passion project,” alluding to the ongoing renovations and refurbishment of the entire property. With the charisma — and looks — of a Hollywood superstar, I witness first-hand just how charming he is with customers when I meet him at Lost Moon for an interview.

The news of the purchase of Lost Moon Estate Winery by a wealthy American wolf has been the talk of the island since his arrival on Motuwai in early October. Whilst most have been excited to see what this means for the established vineyard, others have expressed concerns over their neighbour being a wolf, and what this means for people’s personal safety on the island, given the recent attacks on livestock across the country under the last full moon. Livingston tells me people have no reason to be fearful of him. “I can understand that people may be wary of someone new, especially given the fact that the non-human population here on the island is still relatively small. My goal here is to contribute positively to the local community. Us wolves do not pose a danger to anyone here.”

Livingston is no stranger to winemaking; having completed a degree in viticulture and enology, he’s spent the last few years working on vineyards around the world, including wineries in France, Italy, and California, before deciding on Motuwai as the location for his own venture into the business. “New Zealand has always been special to me; growing up, I used to holiday in Northland every Kiwi summer. It’s good to be back.”

Livingston is tight-lipped about his family, but a quick internet search yields results. The eldest son of Weston Livingston, Evander is said to be worth upwards of 100 million US dollars. His father, who owns a tech company based in Silicon Valley, has a personal fortune valued at 1.1 billion US dollars (1.6 billion NZD).

Livingston is most excited about the garden project at the vineyard, headed by up-and-coming designer Ellie Hinewai Harding (Ngapuhi, Ngati Hine), who was last year crowned the Young Garden Designer of the Year by the Landscape Design Institute. “We first broke ground mid-November,” Livingston says, “so it’s only been two weeks of physical labour, but you can already see so much taking shape.” Livingston appreciates the aspects of Maori culture that Harding weaves into her work, although Harding is quick to say that she is no expert in matters regarding te ao Maori, and is constantly learning more about her own culture.

---