Page 84 of Untamed

"Fleur! What are you doing here?" the reddish-brown-haired female hisses.

"I... um... I was just going home and saw your car and thought..."

"Why you up so late at night? Tomorrow is school," the Drink-Giver frowns at the little female.

"The lights from the clinic woke me up," the little female says softly. "I just wanted to see-"

"You wanted to see if Jake was in here," Drink-Giver interrupts the female.

"Oh, Flower. He's not out carousing," the reddish-brown-haired female says quietly.

Something flashes deep in the little female's eyes. My breath catches. My she-wolf is done cavorting. She has gone still, as stiff as a frozen fish in the stream-ponds in winter, with eyes wide under the ice that entombs them.

Pain. Such torment for such a tiny female.

I move forward and enfold her in my arms. Part of me knows how strange it is that I can hug this little Apple when I'm so unused to touching other wolves. Maybe Mactiir and Pup have had more of an effect on me than I realized.

The little female is crying. I tighten the hug, making sure that she feels my strength. When I feel like crying, or I'm missing Mama, Mactiir's strength helps me. Maybe I can help this female, too.

"I should wring his neck," Laughing Male says under his breath, but I hear it. "Or let little Luna deal with him..." he says pensively.

"I just wanted to see him," Flower says in a whimper. "Elias isn't home, and I thought I could see if..."

Her voice trails off.

I look at the Laughing Male over her shoulder and silently demand he fix this. Whoever is making Apple cry should stop it right now. His spring-leaf eyes widen, and he pulls out his black box from his pocket. I hear him as he mutters, "Jake Rosen, get your ass to the Watering Hole, right-fucking-now." I smile and give him a nod. Good.

The little Apple has stiffened up in my arms. She starts to pull away. "I should g-go. It's really, really late and-"

"Too late now, Fluer," the Laughing Male is grinning ear-to-ear. "Little Luna has spoken. Well," he amends, his smile dropping, "she hasn't spoken. At all, really. I mean, she communicates, without speaking. Which, now that I think about it, is fascinating. How do you do that?" he asks me.

I just look at him. Even if I wanted to speak, how in the name of the goddess would I answer that question?

Laughing Male points at me. "That's what I mean. See that?" he asks the room. "She's calling me an idiot."

My eyes widen. How did he know?

Drink-Giver bursts into laughter. Everyone else laughs, too, but Drink-Giver has folded himself across the tall table from his laughing. I frown at him, my she-wolf, and I feel insulted, but at least Apple has relaxed a bit.

I tug her over to my drinks and offer her the dark, fizzy one. She smiles weakly but takes it and sips. I watch her closely, but she doesn't seem surprised by the taste. So, Drink-Giver wasn't trying to poison me. This poison drink must be regular with pack wolves. They are so very strange.

"Do you like to dance, Luna?" Apple asks me.

I shrug a shoulder. I've been watching the dancers. Mama and I never danced like that. Some of the dancing looks fun. Some of it makes my ears feel hot.

"No dancing. You're both too young," Drink-Giver issues the command with a scowl.

I sniff in his direction.

"Fleur, why don't you show little Luna the jukebox?" Laughing Male interjects. His brows are furrowed, his mouth curling down at the edges. He's staring hard at the black box in his hand. He looks up, giving Drink-Giver a look... a 'speaking look.' That's what Mama would call it.

They look at me. Sneaking looks,surreptitious; secret, clandestine, furtive.

I stand up and walk closer to the dance floor. Bodies move with the beat of the music. Mama and I would just dance without music, finding the rhythm in the song of the wind, the sun, and each other.

Here, the music leads, directing the wolves to sway and bounce. Most fascinating is how they touch each other. Hands, bodies, sometimes mouths.

As I venture closer, the dancers part and edge away from me.

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