Page 66 of Ravaged Wolf
“I’ve never heard of them.”
“They look like blueberries.” I lead her off into the trees. There’s a clearing a few yards away in the opposite direction of the other cabins. I scouted it when I was planning my shelter but decided to build closer to the den so Granddad wouldn’t have so far to walk.
“Do they taste like blueberries?” she asks.
“They taste kind of like a cross between a blueberry and an almond.”
“Weird.”
“Weird and delicious.” I smile at her. She makes an effort to smile back, but her forehead’s pinched. Eventhough I’m walking slow, she’s struggling to keep up while squeezing her thighs together. She looks miserable.
“You know, when I was like fourteen or fifteen, my dad sat my brothers and me on the sofa and lectured us about females and periods for like an entire afternoon.”
That surprises her so much she actually meets my eye. “What?”
“My brother Tarian had said something stupid, and my mom overheard. Thinking back, Dad might’ve been trying to save Tarian’s hide by giving Mom time to cool down. It was very awkward for all of us, though.”
“What did he say?”
“I am not repeating what Tarian said.” I smile so she doesn’t feel like I’m shutting her down. “Dad pretty much did the thing that the Council does when they talk all night long to stop a vote. He just kept going. The thing I remember is that every so often, he’d glare at Tarian and be like ‘you’re so smart, canyoubirth a pup? You’re so big and strong, canyoubirth a pup?’ And Tarian would be like ‘no, sir,’ and Dad would bellow ‘no, youcan’t!’ To this day, whenever my brothers say no to each other, we shout ‘no, youcan’t!’ just like he did.”
I miss my brothers. They found ways to visit me at Salt Mountain a few times over the years by signing up to fight on the circuit, but it was bittersweet. Mom and Dad couldn’t come, and we’d video chat, but Mom would get really upset.
Izzy is smiling, so I shake off the ache in my chest. “It must be nice to have brothers growing up,” she says.
“It was.”
She’s quiet for a few minutes, lost in her thoughts, but she’s forgotten to waddle, so that’s good.
“When I got my period the first time, Mom basically was like—you’re one step closer to finding your mate, no more slacking, you need to get through this Suzuki book, you’vebeen on book four way too long. And I expect you to be careful and prepared. I’m not a drycleaner.”
I’m careful not to let the flash of anger show on my face or in my voice. “What is a Suzuki book?”
“It’s the book you use when you learn piano.”
“Do you like playing piano?” That is going to be a son of a bitch to get for her.
“I hated it.”
“Thank goodness.” It slips out.
Her lips quirk, and her eyebrow raises.
“It’d be really tight in our cabin with you, me, Granddad, and a piano. One of us would have to sleep on top like those ladies in tight dresses who lie on top and sing in the movies.”
She giggles. I am immediately a foot taller.
She also didn’t question that I called itourcabin.
“Here we are,” I say as we step into the glade, an almost perfect circle in the middle of tall trees that is somehow carpeted with dark green grass instead of vines and shrubs. Red mushrooms pop up here and there. My wolf rouses himself and pads to the border between us. He’s not uneasy, but there is something about the place that catches his attention.
I set the bucket and supplies down for her. We’re back to avoiding each other’s gaze.
“Uh, thanks,” she says softly.
“I’ll just, uh—” I hike my thumb over my shoulder.
She tenses almost imperceptibly. I hesitate.
