Page 2 of A Kiss From a Wolfman

I remain still as the fragrant breeze disturbs the inside of my room with its quiet intensity. The wind whips around me, blowing my hair and tugging at my clothes. A force more significant than my understanding is at play, and I am powerless to do anything but bear witness to it and hope it’s here to aid me.

With wide eyes, I watch the heavy wooden door to my room swing open on silent hinges. A fresh breeze from the hall rushes in. I wait for the guards to storm in and demand to know what I’ve done—to punish me and remand me to the dungeon below.

Yet, as I wait to hear their clanking footsteps, none come. It is utterly still beyond my opened door. A gasp slips from my lips as I watch another improbable feat occur: the old dark cloak I have hanging from a peg in my room floats towards me. It lands gently on my shoulders. Invisible hands give me a reassuring, almost affectionate squeeze.

My mind immediately goes back to Laurelle. Could she have a hand in whatever is unfolding in front of me? Or have I succumbed to my despair in this room and am now hallucinating this whole thing?

Despite my confusion, I still tie the clock around my shoulders.

Without hesitation, invisible hands carry an old satchel I had resting against the wall towards me. The doors to my wardrobepeel apart, and various clothing items are carefully stuffed inside until the old leather is stretched to bursting.

All I can do is watch—the urge to scream and cower never comes.

The bag flies towards me, and the long strap loops over my head and drapes itself across my body. The weight is comforting and brings me back into my body. This is real and happening.

Finally, a coin purse made of sturdy brown fabric floats towards me. It hovers in midair. Glowing golden orbs swirl around the bag before solidifying into pristine golden coins. My jaw unhinges as I watch the coins fill the bag until it sags under their weight. There must be at least a hundred in there.

It glides toward me, and I manage to raise my hand. The heavy pouch settles against my palm—the weight a delight. This will be more than enough for what I have planned. Quickly, I tuck the bag away, not daring to question this wondrous gift.

Lifting my eyes, I survey my room one last time. I won’t miss it, nor my life here, but I want to commit it to memory. My eyes lock on an open space in my room—nothing is there, yet I swear I can see something. A faint shimmering—a pulsing of air that makes me feel like whoever is responsible for this assistance is watching—waiting for me to claim this gift they’ve given me.

Squaring my shoulders, I inhale sharply.

“Whoever you are—whatever you are…thank you.”

A gentle breeze blows over my cheeks in acknowledgment. The floral-scented air invades my lungs and strengthens my resolve once more. I don’t have much time. Without a second look, I turn and quietly exit the room.

The hallway is eerily quiet, spurring me to walk faster. I move through the palace with a singular focus. I can taste my freedom—it coats my tongue like honey. The stone walls around me blur as I sail down flights of stairs and back corridors, careful to avoid lingering servants on their rounds.

I travel deeper and deeper into the bowels of the castle. With an arm wrapped around my leather bag, I’m careful not to let the gold coins jingle and give away my location. While I may be a princess, I’ve never had money of my own. My father and brother keep their coffers firmly locked. This money will buy me the future I’ve longed for.

Taking a sharp left, then another one, I rely solely on memory to navigate this labyrinth. I am far enough down that I should just have to pass by the kitchen, and then I’ll be able to cross into the courtyard.

Pushing through another set of doors, I can smell the fresh scent of grass and?—

Someone rounds the corner. A girl. She’s young, draped in the white smock most of our scullery maids wear. Her face is gaunt, and a strand of reddish brown hair clings to her brow from underneath her handkerchief. My heart drops as she looks up, a sharp breath parting her pale lips.

If she makes a noise or alerts the guards in any way, I will be found out. Icy fear licks up my neck as I consider the punishment I will receive if I am discovered.

This young girl holds my whole future in her callused hands.

She pauses a few paces from me, bobbing into a half-hearted curtsey. When she rises, she takes me in from head to toe, from my fraying cloak to the bag strapped across my chest. Her eyes widen, and her dark brows lower.

“Please.” It’s the only word I can muster.

My heart pounds in my ears. Seconds pass, but they feel like years. Each shallow breath she takes causes my stomach to sink further. She twists her small hands into the front of the dress. Quickly, she glances over her shoulder before looking back at me.

“Through there leads to the garden.” She uses a slim finger to point to a wooden door nearly concealed by the crumbling stone wall. “Go now. The cook is only a few paces behind me.”

Gratitude floods me as I quickly reach into my satchel. If this girl is discovered to have aided my escape, she will suffer a fate worse than death. It is dangerous to linger here, but I must reward her kindness.

“Here,” I say, dropping five gold coins into the front of her smock. “Leave here as soon as you can. Use these for safe passage.”

Her eyes widened once more.

“Thank you,” I whisper. She nods, her eyes shining.

Without risking exposing either of us more than I already have, I turn from her and yank open the hidden door just as footsteps approach from the end of the hall.

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