Page 8 of Hunted By Wolves and Shadow
Just when I had started to settle, strange scratching noises disturbed the quiet. I clutched the blanket tight, my pulse racing in my throat.
“Wolf, was that you?”
There was no answer. Had I expected anything else? He was the same as everyone.
My whole body was tense, on alert like I was out on that path again. A loud growl sounded in the night, so close it must have been right outside. I shivered and dove under my cover. I didn’t understand why the Mist and beasts were so aggravated right now. I didn’t like how Wolf had turned into such a crusty-livered toad without warning. I was uneasy here without Grandma, and mostly, I hated that nobody at home would even notice I was missing.
Chapter 4
Emi
Orange light bathed the cottage when I blinked open bleary eyes. The fire had died to ash, and the door to the bedroom remained as firmly shut as the night before. With a sigh, I folded my blanket and returned it to the chest, pausing to watch the dark puddles of shadow below the thick fog.
The Mist had retreated past the garden walls, but beyond that, blanketing white banks of it obscured the path. I groaned. I really didn’t want to be trapped here another whole day with this ornery, unpredictable stranger.
As if summoned, Wolf emerged looking as unrested as me even though he’d had the comfortable bed. He had no right to the dark circles under his eyes or his wary expression.
The previous evening, he’d seemed warm and kind, if a little guarded. I thought we’d connected. I should have known better. I was too used to this for it to hurt the way it did.
There must be something wrong with me. All I’d ever wanted, in the whole world, was for one person to want to know me, and cherish me, and learn all the things about me. I mentally shook myself. That person was never going to be some secretivestranger in the forest. My own family didn’t even want those things. I would have settled for Grandma Ruby returning to talk to me, even in her brusque and practical way.
At least she didn’t ignore me completely. I waited for Wolf to say something…anything, but he looked right past me out the window and then turned away.
“Good morning, Emi. Did you sleep well?” I muttered to myself. “Sour-faced moldworp.” It felt good to tell the man off even if he couldn’t hear. The little huff he gave was probably just coincidence.
Of course it was mentioning Jade’s name that had made him shut down. Some sympathy crept in. What had my sister done? A fling that ended badly? Had she taken advantage of him? I knew too well how she could be.
I followed Wolf to the narrow kitchen in search of breakfast. Where last night, we’d danced around each other and every brush had been a thrill, today it was tense and awkward.
I sliced an apple and some cheese and thought back to how he’d looked at me with what I’d sworn was interest. There was even a moment when I thought he might lean forward and close the distance between us. I was a fool. With a sigh, I popped my last slice of hard sheep’s cheese into my mouth and swallowed the sharp and biting taste.
We could at least be civil. Anything to ease this tension and break the strained silence.
“It looks like we might be stuck here a while longer. Will your family be missing you?”
He shrugged one shoulder.
Okay. I tried again. “What will you do when you get home?”
This time he moved, but his whole body was tight as he flicked the frilly curtain at the kitchen window aside. A cool draft seeped through the gap in the sash while my frustration simmered.
Finally, he spoke. “Same as I always do, I guess.”
Despite the non-answer, my temper cooled. There was a note of despair in the words, some sadness I didn’t understand.
Time for a new tactic. “I’m sorry for whatever I said wrong last night. I thought we were having a nice conversation before that.”
“We were,” he mumbled with that same undercurrent of regret.
“Right, well, I didn’t mean to ruin it. If I hit a nerve or…Or if Jade did something…I’m sorry.” At his frozen stillness, all the circular thoughts I’d had last night while I lay awake cycled to the front again. “I’ve been going over and over it in my head, trying to work out what I should have said that I didn’t or what I did say that I shouldn’t have.”
His gaze slid across me. “Why?”
“Why? Because I can’t help it.”
“What’s the point?”
“I don’t know?” The itch of irritation returned, and I started pacing the living room. Beyond the window, the forest pressed in, swirling with hazy shadows while the faint light from the sky lost its fight against their darkness. I wanted to yell. I was losing the same battle in here. “My brain likes to torture me with all the things I could have done better, what I could have said to be funnier or smarter or more interesting. All the things I could have held back to be less annoying or boring, or not such a burden. It’s stupid, I know. Trust me, none of it ever makes a difference.”
