Page 17 of Just Crumbs

Without Briar between us, my brother and I gaze at each other awkwardly, so we both flop on our backs and stare at the ceiling.

“Brother, I think we’ve gotten ourselves into a fucking mess,” Gerrit says, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Warmth blossoms in my chest as I listen to the happy sounds of Briar bounding out the front door. “I think you’re right. This centuries-old woman is going to devour us.”

“And we’re going to beg for it.”

Chapter9

I’m Not Okay (I Promise)

BRIAR

Sundown is my favorite time of day. I lay stretched out on the grass, letting the last fading glimmers of the sun tighten my skin. In the full sunlight, my skin feels like it’s peeling off, but it’s just a slight discomfort during sundown. Spending any amount of time in the light is worth it.

The rich pinks and oranges that trace the sky have always brought me hope. There is beauty in the darkness, and the light seems to chase it, welcoming it wholly. It makes me feel like my darkness can be accepted one day, too.

I’m not naive enough to think that the boys will ever care about me. I’m a means to an end. I’ll save their father and give them a couple of good fucks, and then they will be on their way. But at least for a moment, I can pretend I am worthy of being loved.

The wolf, Flint, trots down the stairs to my side. He’s a massive creature with mottled fur that reminds me of a rabbit. He’d be as tall as, if not taller than, Gerrit if he stood on his hind feet.

He stretches his body beside me, his head beside mine. I reach out to stroke his head. Looking into his eyes, I can see the intelligence that lives within him. I wonder what it would be like if he could talk. I imagine he would be hilarious.

“I am not known for my sense of humor.”

I sit up with a start. “Did you just… did you talk to me?”

“Yes, I suppose I did.”

“But how? How are you talking to me?”

“I have a theory that maybe drinking Master’s blood gave you some of his powers. But that’s just a theory.”

I shake my head. This can’t be happening.

I cannot talk to a wolf.

I turn to face him, and he’s risen to sit on his haunches. I stare into those clear blue eyes, so inhuman yet captivating, and stroke his head. “Why are you talking to me, though? Why show yourself to me like this?”

“Master is very special to me.”

Is this wolf acting like a protective brother? The thought of that sends a giggle bubbling up through me. Or maybe it’s that I’m conversing with a wolf in the rapidly increasing darkness.

“I do not wish to overstep my place. But witch, the creatures in this forest speak of you. Most with fear, because they know you hunt and consume them. But some sing songs of sadness.”

I wrap my arms around my legs, burying my face in my knees. “That’s not fair, though! I don’t hunt them down. If one wanders into my circle and gets trapped with me, I… I’m always so hungry. I cannot let it go to waste.”

Flint nudges my hand with his nose, trying to re-establish a connection. I intertwine my fingers with his fur, and he nods.

The wolf actually nods at me!

“You do not need to justify yourself to me. Many animals in the forest fear me, too. I have heard stories about you from them. Of what happens after the man you call the Banisher arrives.”

I wince, squirming uncomfortably under his unnatural stare. “They know about that?” Flint circles me before lying on top of my feet. I like to imagine it’s his way of hugging me.

“If I could embrace, yes, this would be an embrace.”

I glare at him. “Quit reading my thoughts, wolf.” He chuffs.

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