Page 79 of Wolf Cursed
“I don’t understand,” I said, glancing between the twins then back to the dog that looked like it belonged on a Taco Bell commercial. “You guys are more than enough to protect this place…right?”
“Galileo is a chihuahua,” Idrissa explained. “He’s very territorial.”
Isaac set the dog down, and it nipped at my pant leg then stood there, growling at me.
Idrissa rolled her eyes. “I’ll put him up.” She grabbed the dog and put him inside a small crate against the wall.
“Okay, not trying to insult your wolf side, but…I have questions,” I said.
Isaac grinned. “You’re learning.”
“Isaac begged for a dog for years,” Idrissa explained. “But every breed we tried was terrified of our beast. They could smell it on us and quickly became overwhelmed and traumatized by living with what they perceived as constant danger.”
“But not Galileo,” I said.
“Nope. That dog has BDE,” Isaac said proudly.
“BDE?” I repeated, confused.
“Big dick energy,” he explained. “He thinks he’s ten feet tall. Hell, he thinks he could take all of us put together.” He shrugged. “So, he’s not scared.”
“He’s too stupid to be scared,” Idrissa corrected. She elbowed me. “Don’t be like Galileo, okay?”
“Got it,” I said.
“Good. Come on.”
Ignoring Galileo’s barking, Idrissa led the way through the house. We passed a living room full of large, cozy furniture and cluttered with an array of items—socks, shoes, a remote tossed against a soft blanket. It wasn’t messy, just lived in. All of the markers that made a house a home.
My eyes stung at the sight of it, and I tried to remember if my house—any of the dozens I’d had with Dad—had ever looked so lived in. Probably not unless empty beer cans counted.
“Isaac, is that you?” an older female’s voice called out. “Your sister needs to get that pan of oil off my porch before I kick her ass for staining the paint.”
I tensed as Idrissa stepped into the kitchen first and I followed.
“Message received, Mom,” Idrissa said.
A blonde woman stood at the counter of the kitchen island, a knife poised against an onion. She looked up as we entered. Her eyes fell on me, and she smiled, lowering the blade.
“Oh. You must be Ash,” she said.
“Hi,” I said tentatively.
She dropped the knife as she came around the counter and grabbed me, pulling me into a hug before I knew what was happening.
“It’s so nice to meet you,” she said, drawing back again before I could fumble with hugging her back. “Isaac and Idrissa speak highly of you.”
“Oh. Thanks. I… They’re great.”
Behind me, Isaac snorted.
“They’re something, all right,” she said with amusement and affection shining in her friendly brown eyes. “I’m Amberly, mother of these two heathens.”
“Hey,” Isaac protested.
Idrissa just snickered.
Amberly ignored them both as she said to me, “You’re welcome here anytime, Ash.”
