Chapter 4
“This wasn’t exactly how I thought the day was going to go,” I whispered to Sienna before taking a bite out of the piece of beef jerky in my hand. It was one of my best batches, if I did say so myself. Instead of using premixed seasoning, I’d started experimenting with making my own blend. It had either been that or spending a huge chunk of my paycheck buying Duncan treats every month. The idea of underfeeding him was something that kept me up at night; it wasn’t like there was a growth chart on the internet for what I could expect from him.
He was a bougie little donut.
Sienna snickered from her spot beside me on the gravel ground with our backs to the front of my truck, both of us trying to avoid the bugs splattered on the grill, my puppy between us having a stare down with the white mini wolf sitting about six feet away, doing the same thing right back. I’d known he was on the small side, considering his growth had basically stunted after a few months, but in the presence of the white wolf, who was probably five times his weight, it was very, very apparent.
I didn’t think either of them had blinked in a while, but I wasn’t sure considering I’d been eavesdropping the crap out of the conversation that the satyr woman, Henri, and Pascal’s maybe-dad were having as they interviewed Matti and the two boys on what exactly had gone down leading up to all this. From what I understood, the kids had, in the past, taken off on adventures that they weren’t supposed to go on, and they had done it again.
Except this time, they’d come across a “river crone” who had been ready to eat them. The river crone was a mythical being who should not have been anywhere near here from what the escalating body language in the group confirmed—and from the brief conversation that Henri had with someone on a cell phone, telling them to “find her.”
I was a little in awe of him. Who was this man asking for explanations, throwing out orders that people listened to, and demanding searches? He was not the man-boy of my memories that sulked and brooded quietly in the corner, too grown up to deal with Matti’s and my BS.
Ripping a piece of jerky into thirds, I popped one in my mouth, held the second out toward Duncan Donut until he edged his head closer—not breaking eye contact in the process—and took his piece from the side. Only then did I toss the final chunk at the white pup. It hit her on the forehead.
She ignored it.
“What do you think so far?” Sienna whispered as the group conversation got even more intense when the wolf boy said something the adults must have not liked. Even Matti winced.
“I like the drama so far. It’s almost as entertaining as campground parking lot dynamics are,” I told her, letting my gaze drift to the black body between us. His tail was up straight, the flame back to a solid blue instead of the ice-blue one that had taken over when he’d been ready to fight MegaWolf in my honor. It wasn’t that I couldn’t believe he’d done it—I could. But it still shocked me.
This little bitty boy had defended me, outsized and all. He had risked his life for me . Me.
I would do anything for him , I thought once more.
Which was why I was hoping someone who lived here would consider marrying me.
A part of me couldn’t believe I’d actually just thought that.
I was willing to marry a stranger to be here, in this quiet land with fencing, big gates, half-goat half-human children, hairy green monsters that wanted to eat them, and werewolves bigger than my first car who were also my best friend’s family.
I had made a rare being fart. I’d had two children claiming I’d saved them. My boy with red eyes had bitten a werewolf’s tail.
None of the fairy tales my parents used to read me at night could have prepared me for any of this.
Except that thought led me to another, and then another, and I turned to Sienna, remembering what I was pretty sure I’d overheard.
“Question. Did Matti actually talk to Henri before we drove here?” I whispered, trying not to sound suspicious but pretty much failing.
Her nose wrinkled. “Huh?”
“I swear Henri asked what we were doing here, and Matti said something sarcastic about him not answering his calls,” I explained. “He said he was going to text him, but….”
Her face darkened, eyes getting squinty the longer she sat there. She plucked at the spaghetti-strap of her pale-yellow top—a color I could never pull off, but she could perfectly. “He never actually said he spoke to him, did he?”
We looked at each other.
“I’m going to kill him,” I warned her.
And my friend nodded like the person I wanted to murder wasn’t the love of her life. “I’ll help you.”
We both turned to glare at Matti, who must have sensed it from the way his attention shot over to us, and he waved like he’d never done a wrong thing in his life.
That was such a Matti thing to do if he was desperate, and I had been pretty desperate the night I’d showed up to their apartment asking for help. I wasn’t really going to kill him, but I might get Sienna to twist his nipple for me.
In the meantime, we sat there munching on jerky from a silicone sandwich bag in my fanny pack, and I released some deep breaths, my skin feeling kind of tickly, my lungs sucking up the fresh air like they had been deprived all their lives. The magic that lived in my gut stirred in response, a ball of squiggly warmth.
What was it about here? I had traveled so much over the years, and while some places had wonderful vibes and traces of magic, no other place had ever felt like this one. Not even close.
I peeked at her, but Sienna seemed totally unfazed. Even a little bored. What was she staring at?
She answered my question a second later. “If that satyr looks over here again, I’m going to get up and go have a calm conversation with her about how rude she’s being.”
That got me to beam. “You’re so scary, but what she needs to worry about is my attack hound right here. Did you see him?”
Sienna patted the furry butt cheek closest to her. “I saw him all right. The boy needs a steak dinner for that.”
The good boy’s ears twitched, but he still didn’t break eye contact with Agnes, even as he said “Yes” in my head.
Yes, he agreed he was a good boy and he needed steak. He was always listening.
I smacked his other butt cheek for good measure, just as the adult satyr turned to look over again real quick.
I didn’t say a word, and Sienna pressed her lips together tight, smelling whatever emotion the woman was releasing. Wariness, more than likely. Possibly even a little bit of fear; herbivores were like that, from what I’d been told. I palmed my bracelet. If she was like this now, what would it be like if I took it off? Shiloh had been fine, more than fine, but….
A warm hand slipped into mine, and my best friend since the age of fifteen gave it a squeeze. “I love you, Nina. I’m glad we made it, and I hope things work out.”
I let go of her hand and threw my arm around her, my head going to her shoulder. Somehow, she planted a kiss on my temple. “I love you too,” I told her. “Thank you for coming with us.”
Loud sighs came from the group, and we watched the woman put a hand on Shiloh’s shoulder before leading him down a path that curved around the right side of the big building. The boy’s head was down, his shoulders slumped, and I really didn’t think I was imagining his hooves dragging behind him. The man stayed talking to Henri for a minute longer before they nodded in agreement over something. Henri dropped into a crouch and leaned in close to Pascal, cupping the back of the boy’s head with his hand. He said something that had the little boy gesturing with his hands before nodding as well.
Then the werewolf man pressed his cheek to the top of Pascal’s head, and the little boy tucked himself into his neck and gave Henri a hug. With a scruff to his hair, Henri stood and gave him an expression that was totally a chastising one. The boy and the other man turned and headed down another path, but I watched as Pascal paused, looked over, and gave me a wave before continuing his march. His maybe-dad glanced over as well, in the middle of a frown. He lifted his hand briefly, mouthed what I thought was “ thank you, ” and kept going too.
Only then did Henri turn to where we were; his lips started moving. He still didn’t seem very happy. Matti gestured us over, his eyebrows up.
“It’s showtime,” I told Sienna as I stood, and beside me, Duncan got to his feet, attention still on the white wolf pup. Somebody was a little obsessed. He was too young to have a crush, wasn’t he? Or was he just in love with the familiarity of someone who looked similar-ish to him? Anytime we’d been around a dog before, he had never really cared much for them. But this was totally different. He’d never seen Matti or Sienna in their wolf forms.
It was like he was seeing himself in the mirror for the first time and couldn’t believe it.
“Agnes,” Henri’s demanding voice called out.
Uh-oh.
I wasn’t sure how I was expecting him to react, but it sure wasn’t the way he did.
“I’m glad you’re back safe and weren’t hurt,” he told the white wolf in a voice that was somehow stern and careful at the same time. “But now it’s your turn to deal with the consequences. Go inside, tell the elders what you did, and see what your punishment is. They’re waiting in the library.”
The ball of poofy anger had already gotten to her paws when my donut did, but she barked at Henri.
“Now,” his reply was no-nonsense, sounding very much like a dad. “You knew what you were doing. We had this talk last time.”
The amount of attitude in her body couldn’t be ignored as she lowered her head and stayed in that position for longer than I ever would have imagined—she was pushing it, defying his orders, even I knew that—but then she took off in the direction of the main house, disappearing around the back of it.
Matti’s cousin blew out a long breath, which didn’t do anything to the tension padding his body. He focused on where we were, and the man I hadn’t seen since he’d been in his twenties dipped his chin. “Thank you for helping the children.”
He was talking to me. “Sure, anytime.”
His hands went to his waist, his jaw—a very defined one—ticked to the side. “Now, you going to come over here so you can tell me what this visit’s about or are we going to keep yelling at each other?” Henri drawled. Not just bossy but blunt too.
We’re here for the pup who has a paw on top of my foot, who can’t live around humans anymore.
Instead of saying that, I reached down, scratched the top of my donut’s head, and held out both hands to him.
“Yes , ” he told me, using his gift more often.
I scooped him up before marching over, Sienna at my side. Then I did what I’d told Matti I would do: I let him handle it. For now.
Or that had been my plan.
It seemed like Matti wasn’t fast enough with an explanation when his cousin got impatient two seconds later.
“You didn’t come all this way by accident. What’s going on?” Henri asked… all four of us, really, even if his attention in that moment was centered on the puppy balanced on my forearm, legs hanging off either side of it. His long ears drooping.
He was so cute. He looked like a prince. I would even go as far as to say he made me think of a god in that position, shiny black coat an obvious sign he was well taken care of. The fire obsidian around his neck a subtle flash of color against his body.
Duncan gazed at Henri steadily, making it very, very clear he was something more. He listened, and he understood everything that was said to him and in front of him. He always had. For his age, he followed rules more than I ever could have hoped for.
“It’s not an accident,” Matti agreed, finally finding his words. He made a funny face. “I explained why in the voicemails, if you’d listened to them.”
The mountain of a man he was related to blinked.
“We’re hoping someone might recognize what Duncan is,” Matti kept going. “He’s the pup in Nina’s arms, if you didn’t get that.”
Henri didn’t move a muscle.
“ And we wanted to see if the elders would be willing to accept two new members to the community,” Matti wrapped it up neatly, leaving the final part of our visit out in the open, just hanging in the air like a wish upon a star.
The whole marrying part implied.
I’d been watching Henri’s face, and that got him. Dark eyebrows rose on caramel cream skin, and even his clear eyes widened. I wasn’t sure a man who looked like him could peek at someone, but that was the closest word I could come up with to describe the way his gaze flicked over to me for a split second. “You’re serious?”
Was he scoffing?
“Yeah,” Matti confirmed.
“Here?”
He was definitely scoffing.
My friend nodded.
“You and Sienna?”
Matti shook his head, and his older cousin’s expression hit a new level of disbelief.
“Cricket and the pup?” he asked slowly.
Sienna took a step closer to me, asking under her breath through the side of her mouth, “Why does he keep calling you that?”
I only whispered, “Later,” because I felt the need to jump in, even though I’d told Matti I’d let him handle it.
“I understand the rules about getting married, and I’m okay with them,” I spoke up, wanting Henri to be aware that I did get what was going on and was willing to do what was needed to get permission to stay here. Other than my two closest friends, I didn’t have anyone or anything tying me down. My parents had retired to Mexico, and they weren’t coming back. I couldn’t exactly move there now, with Duncan being what he was.
Amber irises met mine, and I tried smiling at him.
Maybe I should’ve kept trying to hide my nervousness, but it was getting exhausting, and honestly, if Henri opened up his senses to smell how I was feeling, he was going to be able to tell anyway.
Henri’s eyes narrowed in reaction. Not exactly nice. Not in curiosity or interest either. But in the middle of a thought that could have gone either way. Wary.
Once upon a time, I’d been his little cousin’s friend who he had tolerated slightly better than his own relative, possibly because I was a girl, or maybe because he felt bad for me. We had never been friends , but he had been nice enough. Just the right amount of attentive that had lured me into hoping to run into him during his visits.
And with a face like the one he had now, I could understand why. The only modeling he would ever be qualified to do was maybe be the new face for that paper towel brand with a lumberjack on them. But he’d be perfect at it. That bone structure, those forearms, and boots? Sold.
Matti cleared his throat, bringing everyone’s focus back to him. “You see the pup, Henri. His eyes. His tail.”
“I see ’em,” Henri agreed a moment before scrubbing a palm over his forehead, the spot of red still bright near his elbow, threatening to stain his shirt.
I unzipped my fanny pack and dug around until I found what I was looking for, then I held it out.
Henri eyed my face, then my balled-up fist. But he didn’t hesitate long before extending his hand, palm up against my palm down, cupping his fingers beneath mine. I dropped the Band-Aid into it. I always carried a couple around in my fanny pack, along with ten other things, mostly snacks, a poop bag, a glove or two, and a couple baby wipes. “Your elbow is bleeding,” I told him.
The muscle in his jaw flexed, but he took in the Band-Aid sitting in his palm, then shoved it into his pocket instead of using it.
It was the thought that counted, I supposed.
“Right,” Henri went on as if nothing had happened. “There’s no use in you telling this story twice, and this decision isn’t just up to me,” he said. That bold gaze worked its way down to what I thought was Duncan but realized it wasn’t when he tipped his chin in the direction of my hand. “If that bracelet is doing what I think it’s doing, take it off. Whatever the pup has on, remove it too. We can’t help him if his magic is hidden, and I haven’t seen you in a long time. I need to know what you’re hiding.”
Hiding was such a strong word.
But it wasn’t like I’d expected any different. I’d want the same thing if I was in his shoes. Probably more. It had been obvious to me from the moment we’d gotten out of the car that the people here had something precious they were protecting: magical children for starters. A forest with so much goodness… power… magic, whatever you wanted to call it, that I wanted to roll around in the leaves. Pick up tree bark and tape it to my skin. Bottle the scent and take a bath with it.
This was a community of people who I was told wanted to live in peace as themselves in an adorable village setting hidden in a small nook of the world. They had so much to lose, more than I ever could have imagined.
So I nodded at him, then turned to Sienna and held Duncan out. “Will you take his collar off, please?”
She did just that, releasing the button with the tip of her nail. With it in her hand, I suddenly stopped sensing her magic at the same time Duncan’s strong, subtle one pressed against mine. She reached for my other arm and tugged my bracelet off. She put it on too, twisting her wrist this way and that way, as if testing it, but it didn’t make the person wearing it feel any different.
Here went freaking nothing.
Because there I suddenly was. We both were. Duncan and I in our full glories. More vulnerable than if I’d been naked, in some ways. I took the bracelet off from time to time, but it wasn’t often, and never when I was around people like us, unless there was a statement I wanted or needed to make, like earlier. That was rare. I wasn’t the competitive type.
I watched and heard Henri take a tentative sniff, then another. Testing. After a moment, his brawny chest literally puffed out as he took such a deep inhale it would have made a yoga teacher proud when he held it for second after second.
If I hadn’t known he wasn’t human before, I would have then. His eyes widened, then widened a little more. His thick throat bobbed.
A couple of times, when I’d been younger, he’d let me sit next to him on the couch or at the dining room table. But back then, my true heritage had been a mystery. In Matti’s words, I hadn’t smelled magical, but I’d smelled magical. Those around me had been able to tell I wasn’t human-human, but what I was hadn’t been apparent enough. The same way that Duncan had been before his own nature had exploded across him physically and mentally.
Henri released his deep breath.
That stubbled jaw clenched even more somehow.
Slowly, he turned to his cousin and stared at him, hard.
Matti looked at him right back. Straight-faced. But there was a glint in his eye….
I didn’t think I imagined that Henri’s voice came out different, maybe slightly hoarse as he reached out. “I’ll take those, Sienna.”
My friend took the bracelet off and handed it over, along with the collar, and at the same glacial speed that he’d looked at his cousin, Henri brought both up to his nose. His chest rose and fell again. Then again. And for the second time, his intense gaze returned to Matti.
Henri’s attention slid back in my direction, and I smiled. He needed to like us. I rocked up to the balls of my feet and let the eighteen years of living among their kind help me take the next step. “Do you want to smell my neck?” I offered, thinking about how many times someone—werewolves mostly—had done that to me. With permission of course. It was like a crash course in getting to know someone, Matti had explained. You could learn a whole lot of things about people from their odor, and the least important of them was whether or not they used enough deodorant.
Henri’s jaw flexed again. “Do I want to…?” He sounded a little strangled.
Shifting Duncan’s weight on my arm, I tapped my neck with my other hand. “Smell me,” I repeated. Why was he making it seem like I was offering him a lit stick of dynamite?
I slid my gaze toward Matti, who was looking real funny at his family member.
Taking a whiff of another person wasn’t unheard of. It wasn’t weird. If anything, it was a formality. Good manners. An olive branch from me to him.
There was a lot I didn’t want him knowing yet , but this was nothing.
At least it should’ve been nothing.
“Or not,” I muttered, trying not to feel dejected.
Maybe I’d finally met the one werewolf who wasn’t a Nina fan.
But I refused to give up hope. Slowly, I lifted my shoulders and asked, “What about a hug?” We used to know each other. A reminder of the past might help.
It didn’t.
There was more staring. Eventually, he cleared his throat and looked away. “I’m going to hold onto these”—he moved his hand indicating our jewelry—“while we’re inside. I’ll give them back later. Let’s find the elders.”
I gave him a thumbs-up, not sure if he was wary over this whole situation, or just me, or Duncan, or what.
Henri had always been a serious potato.
But I guess it was a good thing he wasn’t telling us to get back into my truck or growling because he couldn’t control his dislike of Duncan or me. Henri didn’t seem overly interested in my donut either. He hadn’t focused on his tail half as much as I’d expected him to.
Maybe he knew something I didn’t.
I guess we’d see.
For now, we’d head inside and go from there. I’d forgotten all about these “elders” that Matti had mentioned. They were the main leadership here, the decision-makers. He’d explained it on the drive in a short, vague way: Henri was the CEO of this place, and they were his board of directors. One couldn’t act without the other.
With that, Henri headed in the direction of the main building. Matti followed, waving us to do the same. I held Duncan against my chest and took in the forest as we headed to the massive log structure. Nature was nothing new to me, but I couldn’t ignore or get over how this place felt. From the way Duncan’s sniffer was going too, tipped up high, maybe I wasn’t the only one pleasantly surprised and soaking up whatever special stuff was around here.
Now, without distractions, I’d swear there was something different about the trees. The barks wrapped around the trunks had a texture I’d never seen before, almost iridescent at a distance. They also seemed bigger and greener than any others I’d ever seen. In a way, they reminded me of the redwood forests I’d stayed by several times—there was something epic and timeless about them.
Rumor and folklore claimed that there were places in the world where magic was stronger. Where it was embedded more deeply in the environment than in other places. Those stories told that it was where parts of the Great Meteor—the unknown mass that had supposedly been responsible for bringing magic to Earth, according to ancient civilizations across the globe—had landed and subsequently turned normal people into what they became: legends and mythological entities.
I’d heard arguments that there was a chance we had always been around and someone in the past had made up stories to better explain how magic was possible, and maybe that was true. Maybe there had been a meteor filled with something special that changed the very essence of the humans it had come into contact with and made them something different. Or maybe those magical beings had always been around, and people needed some way to explain it. Without a time machine, who would ever know the truth?
Maybe the very old ones, like my neighbor was supposed to have been.
Regardless, this place made me wonder if the meteor theory was true and fragments had landed here thousands of years ago.
Or I just needed something to help me understand how this may or may not be a real-life magical forest with mythical creatures running around in it. Which then got me wondering… did authors and screenwriters come up with enchanted forests after visiting places like this? Were they based off reality? Why had I never thought of that before?
“You coming?” Sienna set her palm between my shoulder blades, forcing me to shelve my questions for later.
I nodded.
We went along, going straight for the front of the main building where my friend held one of the doors open. Henri was waiting inside. Duncan stuck his neck out while his nose continued twitching, taking in all the scents. The foyer we walked into had two connected hallways, one to the left and right, another straight across from the front door, leading toward the back of the building.
“Follow me,” Henri instructed after Matti closed the door, heading down the hall that led to the rear.
We did, the silence so loud within the quiet, plain walls. There wasn’t artwork, a clock, or anything decorative. Not really a surprise. Every werewolf home I’d ever been in had been the same. Even Matti and Sienna, as bougie as they could be and with the exception of their clothing, were pretty minimalist. Now ogres? They loved their little treasures.