Page 78 of Tricky Magic
“That is why I left when I did,” he said, placing the finished braid over her shoulder. “It’s okay that you don’t know a lot. What matters is what you do with your time. Listen and learn; there is so much outside of our bitchy circles.”
Ellea sighed, playing with her braid. Finally, she nodded and looked up at Devon. His light blue eyes were so kind and open. She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him hard. He laughed, placing his arms around her back.
“Thank you for being my friend,” she mumbled into his chest. “I mean, if you want to be my friend.”
“We fell asleep watching wizard movies and hunky hunters, I think we’re best friends.”
Ellea let out a sob while buried in his chest and then Ros rounded the corner. She groaned and let go of her friend. She rolled her eyes and Devon chuckled as Ros’ loud steps came toward them. He tugged on her braid before turning her toward the grumpy old man.
“She’s ready for you, and she hasa tonof questions,” Devon said, and then he bolted the other direction.
Ros looked at him suspiciously as he quickly left through a side door. He looked back at Ellea and grasped her by the chin, searching her face. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m fine, only feeling like a dumb child,” she admitted.
“Child? You’re twenty-eight?” he asked, looking concerned.
“Yes, but mentally, I feel like I’m missing so much.” She sighed.
“Yeah, but…” He quickly kissed her scowl. “But you’re learning.”
“You’re not one to soften the blow, are you?” She glowered at him.
“Nope.” He grabbed her hand and walked her toward the door. “Let’s go outside and see what you can learn tonight.”
44
Ros
Ros hated how Ellea was feeling. No one should ever feel as though things are being kept from them. From the little he knew about her upbringing, he worried that that was exactly what was going on.
Ellea had finished two burgers, five cookies, and some fried things she couldn’t get enough of. He would keep feeding her just to hear her moan every time a new flavor hit her mouth. She now leaned back on the large outdoor couch she shared with Ros, cradling her drink in her hands. The sun hung low behind them, and the warm hue radiated off of Devon and Sam across from them, sitting in their own oversized chairs. Ros would have never guessed that this was where he would end up after Ellea came into town, with his friends, in comfortable conversation as the other wolven began building a small fire.
“Now that you’re full”—Sam gestured to Ellea, who was melting into the cushions—“I hear you have some questions?”
“I don’t even know where to start.”
“She saw your photo on the wall,” Devon said. “The one of you two after the war.”
Ros couldn’t help but answer the secret smirk Sam was giving him with his own.
“That was ages ago,” Ellea said. “How long do wolven usually live for?”
“There isn’t a set number,” Sam answered. “Things are constantly changing, and with the numbers dwindling, the lifetime of a wolven has changed too.”
“The numbers are dwindling?” Ellea asked with weighted concern in her voice.
Ros could remember a time when thousands of wolven lived in one area. Currently, it was in the low hundreds; everyone had their own theories about the decline, but both he and Sam agreed on one.
“Yes,” Sam answered honestly. “Things aren’t how they used to be.” He paused, smiling at Devon. “Besides my ancestors having ten or twenty pups by the time they were my age, the world has changed. Technology rules and the Gods are gone.”
“What Gods are gone?” Ellea asked.
“They aren’t gone,” Ros interrupted. “They’re in Hel.”
They had been since before he was born.
“Yeah, a lot that’s doing for the supernaturals,” Sam grumbled.
