Page 75 of Werewolves Don't Howl
“Who hates gnomes?”
“Manny?”
He gave me an amused look. “Manny adores gnomes. He wants to cuddle them to death.”
“Ah. Ogres love gnome jam. What about Ridley? How was he involved with those missing girls? What about Zephin Clay? He was there all three times…” I winced. “That’s too big a coincidence for it not to be him, isn’t it?”
“I would say it’s too obvious. If Clay was going to do something diabolical, he wouldn’t stand there waiting for people to notice him holding the bag. He’d be as far from guilty looking as possible.”
I wrinkled my nose at him. “Fine. Who do you think is the beast?”
He shook his head. “If I knew, it would be taken care of.” Of course it would be.
I put my hand on his arm. “What about the idea of using me as bait?”
“No.”
I moved closer to him so I could frown up at him more effectively. “I’m very capable.”
He slid his hands over my lower back, pulling me against him as he bowed his head so I didn’t have to crane my neck. “Three months isn’t long enough to give you adequate training against this beast.”
I sighed heavily. “So we’re supposed to just wait for something bad to happen? Again? The next time, maybe I’ll target innocents.”
“Impossible. That sort of spell can only work with what they have. Your hatred for me was enough to turn you to violence, but you wouldn’t ever harm anyone else.”
I gripped his arms and sighed heavily. I didn’t want to apologize for trying to kill him. It just seemed like words were too small to cover the depths of my horrific actions. Still, I wasn’t going to wait fifteen years like he had. “I’m so sorry that I hurt you, tried to kill you, caused so much damage. I’m going to look at apartments tomorrow so you don’t have to worry about me, but I think your apology helped with the anger. It seems entirely replaced by shame and horror.” I winced and wanted to bury my head in his chest.
He smiled as the moon shone over his face, making him glow with otherworldly magnificence. “It did hurt more than I expected when you finally stabbed me in the back, but it was quickly displaced by the comfort and happiness you gave me while you healed me. I’m not sure healing should be so pleasant. I’m tempted to have life-or-death situations regularly so I can enjoy your sweet ministrations.” His voice was a low rumble at the end that made my skin prickle.
I smacked his chest. “Don’t you dare! I think it was actually the spell messing with your mind. That’s why you said all those ridiculous things about a night elf’s love being poison.” Also about loving me, but I was trying not to think about that.
His eyes were so focused on me, I felt like he was watching each breath I inhaled and exhaled, capturing the vapor tendrils of my soul. “Miss Era, I wasn’t under a spell. I spoke the truth as I saw it. A night elf’s love is typically destructive. That’s why I’m here instead of elfland, running away from my guilt, brought on by love. You are loved by me quite emphatically and have been from almost the first moment I saw you. If you wish to pretend otherwise, I won’t speak of it again, but if my love could ever be useful to you, it’s yours.”
I stared at him while my heart lurched precipitously in my chest. “Love? Since the first moment you saw me?”
His eyes were dark pools of mystery as he slowly nodded. I saw the truth, the certainty in his eyes. He absolutely thought that he’d loved me from that first time he saw me fixing a little tree.
“Irrational, mad love would make it difficult to kill someone who clearly wasn’t going to survive transitioning. You kept me alive because you couldn’t help yourself.” I spoke slowly, feeling the words, the weight of the truth of them. It hadn’t ever made sense, why someone would prolong the pain from what should have taken a day or two and stretched it out to months, but it wasn’t because he hated me or liked to watch people suffer, but because he wasn’t capable of thinking rationally around me. Love at first sight wasn’t an elf thing. They didn’t have true mates the way wolves did. He’d been under a spell for a long time, and it had successfully gotten him to forget about his undercover assignment, distracted him from looking into Lynx, and he’d put off really investigating the beast because he thought it might be me.
I sighed heavily as I looked up at the most beautiful elf in the world whose heart had been stolen and given to me, a gnome-elf, who they’d promptly turned into a werewolf, because that first combo wasn’t devastating enough.
He frowned slowly, brows lowering over those lovely eyes. “You shouldn’t pity me.”
I couldn’t help it. Poor guy had been tortured by unrequited miserable love for ages. I threw myself into him, squeezing him in the tightest hug I could manage.
He hesitated for a breath and then wrapped me against him, snuggling me like someone desperate for affection. Poor Cross, desperate for affection from a monster like me. And he’d been under this spell for years? How had he not stalked me after he let me out of his cage? That must have nearly killed him to let me wander the earth without him, not knowing if I was alive or dead after he worked so hard to help me transition.
It explained so much, like why he’d taken one look at me on his doorstep and offered me a place to stay without asking for any rent. And why he’d brought all those super powerful creatures to back him up so he could be my protector. And why he’d spent months being there for me, giving me his strength and magic without me having to ask, without asking for anything in return while he trained me.
Back home, how he’d struggled when dancing with me, trying to maintain a respectful distance when he was finally given permission via his role of suitor to get much closer. How do you play a part you aren’t playing?
I squeezed him tighter, accidentally summoning my beast until his ribs creaked. Poor Cross, cursed to love someone who hated him. Did I still hate him? How could I hate someone who’d read to me while he let me kill him? He couldn’t help torture me to keep me alive. He’d suffered right there with me, maybe more, since his love bespelled soul would hurt even more out of empathy.
“Don’t worry, Cross. It’s going to be okay,” I murmured, snuggling into him. He smelled so good. Could I take advantage of his weakness for me? No. Maybe a little, but I wasn’t going to hurt him worse than he already suffered.
I’d take care of this. He couldn’t pursue justice while he was tangled in these feelings for me. He couldn’t use me as bait. He couldn’t focus on hunting down the monster when love was the worst monster of all. How awful to be compelled to love against your will. That was much worse than being compelled to live through a world of pain. I needed to step up and get to the bottom of things once and for all. No more Mr. Nice Gnome. Or Mrs. Nice Gnome. He’d probably marry me if I told him to. For real. He’d probably do anything for me that didn’t involve me dying. I had to break his curse and find the monster who had left a trail of dead girls behind before they struck again. The monster wanted to destroy Cross in absolutely every way. I wasn’t going to let that happen. Not anymore.
ChapterTwenty
