Chapter 5
HAROLD
Already, having good food—and a lot of it—has done wonders for Selene.
Blue veins no longer spider across the surface of her pale skin, and she’s gotten color from going outside.
Her bones are still visible in many places, but she’s filling out quickly and growing into her new clothes.
Her cheeks are pinker now, and she smiles much more often.
It’s those smiles that I am weakest for. When she glances over her shoulder while she’s cooking—often poorly—and sees me watching her, a grin turns her cheeks into little apples, and her eyes squeeze closed. When she does that, my heart thunders in my chest like a racehorse.
And yes, I think about her many nights when I’m alone in the new bed I had made and put where my cot used to be. It did cost a pretty penny, but I’ve insisted Selene stay in the bedroom so she can have privacy. She fought me for some time over it, but I stood firm, and eventually she gave in.
I won’t deny the bed is more comfortable than the cot was.
It’s awful of me to even think of Selene in a lewd manner after all she’s been through, but watching her move about my home, sitting at the table with her while we play cards, even having a glass of beer together…
It’s easy to picture her staying there.
The other town guards have hassled me about finding a wife, and the occasional woman has made eyes at me. For the most part, though, I’m perfectly content alone. Until Selene fell into my life like a puzzle piece clicking into place.
But she still doesn’t trust me, and I know I will need to be patient to earn it. I want her trust more than anything else.
So I do everything I can to help her settle back into a normal life, to learn what it means to live again. She will need to go out by herself someday, but I can at least try to make that transition easier for her.
Selene stays close by my side the whole way into town, sniffing the air often as we get nearer to the square like she’s trying to pick up a trail.
“There are some food vendors,” I offer as we near the grocer’s. “Would you like to have lunch?” It’s one of my days off, which have become infinitely more valuable to me since Selene appeared. And I wouldn’t mind spending some money on a meal prepared by someone else.
Selene perks up. “Sure. What sort of food?”
“What about pies? The tavern serves the most marvelous beef pie, you have to try it.”
“I’d love to.”
Deciding it better to eat before we shop, we locate the tavern where the baker works. Each pie is wrapped up perfect for eating with your hands. Selene gasps in indignation as some of the gravy drips down her fingers and splashes on her skirt.
“That will be hard to clean off,” she grumbles, and I hold in a chuckle at the petulant expression on her face. She values cleanliness immensely after her experience living in filth, and I won’t begrudge her that.
“I’m sure it’ll come out.”
Then I order us each another pie.
“I can’t eat that much!” Selene protests.
“We’ll take it to go.”
She does eat the whole second pie, though.
Then we’re off to shop for our produce, and this time, Selene walks beside me rather than behind me.
She’s curious about things we pass, and I offer to stop, but she seems intent on staying the course.
The town appears to endlessly fascinate her, from children running through an open doorway to a dog barking from a yard.
She peers curiously into windows, but never strays.
At the grocer’s, I introduce her to Bartol, the easygoing older man who works behind the counter. Selene is cautious at first, but when he offers a hand to shake, she takes it politely. He shakes with vigor, which earns a little squeak of surprise before he lets her go.
“Nice to see you with someone on your arm, Harold,” Bartol remarks. “Where did this lass come from?”
Selene tenses beside me. I know she won’t want me telling her story to just anyone, so I make something up.
“Selene just came to town. Daughter of a friend of my mother’s. We met when I visited last, and she decided to move here.”
Bartol whistles. “Good catch. Though I think you need to feed her more.” He heads into the back room, then returns with a big lump of butter and rings it up for me without asking.
Next, we’re on to the butcher’s. We settle on a few good cuts of meat and carry them home with us, Selene toting a bag over each arm.
It feels so marvelously normal, I wonder if it can last.
SELENE
It was scary, I’ll admit, going into town again.
I haven’t seen so many people in a long, long time, and the noise was nearly overwhelming.
There were wagon wheels on cobblestones, children shouting, people talking everywhere we went—but I was with Harry, who towered over me, keeping me safe and secure. That brought me back down to earth.
I must admit that despite how shocking and stimulating it was, I enjoyed seeing the town again, observing all the goings-on.
There’s so much life out in the world, and I had forgotten during those long years in that room.
I worried as we walked that someone would sniff me out, that a stranger would know what I am and scream it from a rooftop.
But after going out, I realize that everyone has their own matters to attend to, and I am the least of their concerns. That, in itself, is comforting.
Maybe it really is safe to go outside now, as long as I’m with Harry. I couldn’t imagine trying to brave the town square alone.
“Why don’t we go on a walk?” Harry asks the following day, his last day off before returning to work. “We need to make sure you’re using all your muscles again so they can get stronger.”
I know I don’t have much stamina, which means that he’s right to suggest it, but I’m already tired from going into town the day before.
“Do we have to?” I ask in a voice that sounds whiny, even to me.
“Well, I suppose we don’t, if you’re against it.” He tilts his head and studies my face. “I’ll be with you the whole time. And it’s too early in the year for bears to be out and about.”
I wasn’t thinking about bears before, but now I am.
Not wanting Harry to think I’m weak, I get to my feet. “Let’s go, then.”
He gives me that big grin I’m already starting to find familiar and comforting, then stands and offers me his hand. I take it, and his thick fingers wrap around mine, making them disappear.
We walk like that, hand-in-hand, down the lane to the main road.
The sun hasn’t set yet, giving us orange light to see by as we enjoy traipsing through the trees.
Harry points out different types of plant life, explaining to me the difference between a birch and a maple and nodding at the buds starting to appear on their sticklike branches.
And though we hold hands our entire journey, when we get home, Harry bids me goodnight and departs for his bed in the back room without a further word. I watch him go, missing him the moment he’s out of sight. Sometimes I wish he would stay, but I can’t ask that of him.
My body is changing rapidly now, and I am starting to feel a strength that’s strange and also welcome. My breasts fill out, getting big enough that they finally look right in my new clothes. My thighs get thicker, and the muscles in my calves can stand up to more walking now than before.
Harry encourages me to go into town when he’s sleeping or at work, but such a bold thing feels impossible.
Sure, the world isn’t as frightening as I thought it might be, but that’s because he’s always at my side.
I know I’m safe when I’m with Harry. But going alone, when any alpha could jump out from a darkened corner?
I don’t say my fears aloud, though, because to him, it is probably irrational. He doesn’t know yet what I’ve kept close to my chest. Sometimes, I consider telling Harry, just so he knows what he harbors under his roof. But what if he kicked me out? I couldn’t bear it.
I never want to leave Harry’s home, because it already feels like my home, too. Which I know isn’t fair when I’ve commandeered the big bed in the only bedroom. But Sadie is a gentle horse, though a little obstinate, and the small plot of land is just the right size.
Soon, I start to feel… almost human again. Almost like a woman, perhaps, and not a hollowed-out shell wearing grooves into the mortar of her prison. Which means that I start to have wants.
Needs. Desires.
Yes, I desire Harry. When he arrives home from work in the dawn hours, I always get up to say hello, even if I was in the middle of a dream. Though tired, he is still handsome, and his white teeth are always visible when he smiles behind his beard.
“Would you like dinner?” I ask, hoping that this time he’ll let me cook for him. I want to do things for him, to thank him for all he’s done for me. But he simply shakes his head and ushers me back off to bed, then tends to cooking his meal alone.
So I wash his clothes, and feed his horse, and trim back the hedges. I do everything I can to show him how I feel, how I ache for him to touch me again, just once. But he has never been inappropriate with me, never even suggestive. If anything, he keeps his distance.
Which sometimes leads me to wonder other things. Perhaps he does not like women. Or perhaps I am not appealing to him in that way.
That thought, to my surprise, dampens my mood. Surely that is the reason I can’t detect anything beyond friendship between us. He saw me at my worst and cared for me, and maybe he will never wash that image of me, sick and filthy, from his mind.
And so, though I dread the thought, I begin to look for a place to live. I’ll have to get a job if I’m no longer living off Harry’s good nature. But it’s the right thing to do. He should be free to find someone else, and he can’t do that while I’m taking up space here.
While I sit at the table poring over the newspaper, looking for what housing might be available, I find a room in a women’s home. That would probably be ideal—inexpensive, but surrounded by other women.
I grow more and more sour the longer I look, though, so I put the newspaper away and try to think about something else.
I’m getting quite warm, despite the cool early spring weather, so I take off my leggings and sweater. And yet, even when I do that, I’m still warm. I can’t remove any more layers and be decent, though, so I will just have to bear it.
Then I squint when a cramp hits me in the gut. But it isn’t the same as the cramps I remember from when I used to get my monthly blood. It’s something else—lower, more acute.
Feeling miserable for myself, I retire to the bedroom, close the door, and strip off all my clothes so I can finally be cool again. Then I lay atop the bed, cringing whenever another cramp hits, wishing I could be what Harry wanted.