Page 60 of The Wolf

“That’s not even accurate,” I protests, pointing my pencil at her. “We don’t do iteverynight.”

“Right, sometimes you do it in the morning,” Meg retorts.

“Or the afternoon,” Clara adds.

My face burns with shame. If they—the humans—can hear me, I don’t even want to know what the others think of me. “I’m notthatloud!” I continue to deny it.

“Yes, you are,” reply allthreeof them.

I snap my head toward the gargoyle, narrowing my eyes. “Oh, sonowyou speak?! I don’t recall asking for your fucking opinion! You’re not entitled to one!”

The smallest crack of a smirk forms on his stone face.

“It’s even creepier when he talks,” Meg comments. “But just between us girls,” she leans in with a wicked smile playing on her lips, “I hope that gigantic rock Alex gifted you isn’t compensating for anything. And byrock, I mean the ring, not the gargoyle.”

The room erupts into laughter, Clara doubling over and Meg practically rolling off the couch. Even I can’t hold back. Glancing down, Iturn the ring slowly on my finger, loving the coolness of gold and the comforting weight of it. It’s a stunning antique piece with a massive, round diamond, set in a high crown at its center. Smaller stones are set on either side, adding subtle sparkle against the flashiness of the main rock. The slender band is hand-crafted with delicate floral patterns that wrap around it, each curve and petal carefully shaped. It’s an extraordinary timeless treasure, but I’d expect nothing less from Alex. It’s even more special, knowing it belonged to Dahlia.

“Trust me,” I grin, “he’s way more than generous in that department, too.”

“Lucky you.” Meg sighs heavily, then rises to her full height. “Anyway, all this sex talk made me hungry.”

Clara gives her the look. “You know you’ve been here barely two weeks?”

“Your point exactly, Granny?” Meg arches a brow.

Both Clara and I stare at her.

“Ah, give me a fucking break! I was a bartender. What do you think? I was getting laid regularly. Yeah, so trashy of me!”

“Meg,” Clara starts. She has this expression on her face like she’s gearing up for a mini therapy session on how meaningless sex won’t fill the void.

“No, you don’t get to judge how I choose to cope.” And with that, Meg is already on her way to the kitchen to fetch some snacks from the pantry.

From what I’ve gathered, we get food and supply restocks twice a week—more if needed—but we grow or make much of what we need ourselves. The vampires compel delivery drivers from chain stores to drop off their trucks at a specific spot, where they’re transported into the Veil. The village is home to many witches, young and elder werewolves—either before their firstshift or after their last—human mates, and children of various ages. They all need regular food and other household goods, just like us, and this keeps the village stocked with essentials for its residents. And the same goes for anything else that’s needed—like fabrics and craft supplies for Clara, for instance. It really is such a beautiful and united community.

As Clara continues to make adjustments to my sketch, I watch her carefully. She’s calm, composed, and always has this effortless grace about her. Even now, when I know her mind must be racing, she’s still soher.

“How do you do it?” I blurt out, unable to keep the question in any longer.

She pauses, her hands stilling as her warm brown eyes meet mine. “Do what, darlin’?”

“All of it,” I say, shifting slightly on my stool to fully face her. “Stay unchanging while the decades are passing. There’s so much time, such a long life. I can imagine it’s different for supernatural beings. They’re fast, strong, and can defend themselves. They can be out and travel the world, do so many amazing things. But me? I’m human. And with Alex’s overprotectiveness? I’ve got a statue stalking me every second of the day.”

Clara chuckles, shaking her head. “Edwin wasn’t any different when I first got here. That damn wolf wouldn’t let me so much as pick flowers from the garden without sendin’ someone to follow me.” She squeezes my arm gently. “But you find your rhythm. You pick up a skill or two, and once mastered, you move on to the next. You learn so much, history that’s been hidden, science we were never taught. You get to meet so many new souls, some of ’em human, sure, but most unlike anything you’ve ever seen. And, well, you have sex… A lot of it.”

“Clara!” I squeak, laughing despite myself, my cheeks hot.

She grins, unfazed. “What? It’s true! And of course, you raise your children. I homeschooled all of mine. Not that they’d learn anything particularly useful from the education system, though the socializin’ was what worried me. I didn’t want ’em growin’ up thinkin’ they were missin’ out on somethin’. But I wouldn’t dare let ’em outta the Veil. I was too scared back then. And now?” She pauses, her expression softening. “I’ve let my Willow go ’cause she practices witchcraft—she’s fierce, focused, and knows how to take care of herself. And my boys? Before they shifted, they gave me trouble every second of the day. Now look at ’em—out there savin’ the world. Yet here I am, just like you—a fragile human.”

“But don’t you ever get bored?”

“No,” she responds without a second of hesitation. “I’ve been here more than sixty years, Julia. And not once have I been bored. Not a single moment.”

“That sounds… exhausting,” I admit, biting my lip.

She laughs, a rich, warm sound filling the entire room. “Maybe, but it’s worth it. Every second. I give Edwin a home to come back to, somethin’ to help him keep goin’. And to him, that’s my superpower.”

I smile at her. “I like that.”

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