Page 28 of Wolf's Bane
He was a monster. She said the words in jest, but they drove home the point that he had to keep his distance from Solenne.
Last night he had been purposefully cruel. He wanted to drive a wedge between them, to make it clear that whatever they had been, they no longer could be. Clear to her. Clear to him.
And today, when he saw her reading under the tree by the pond, he remembered all the summer days they swam in that pond. He recalled every story Solenne read aloud as he lounged in the grass. They climbed trees and scraped knees and laughed, and it was as if no time at all had passed. He wanted that back with a fierce hunger.
He wantedherback.
It was foolish, but just for a moment when they laughed at the absurdity of them falling into the pond, he felt the spark. This was his friend. Whatever time and distance stretched between them, she would always be his friend.
Then the beast had to ruin it.
He had nearly kissed her and would have if she had not jumped away like a skittish colt.
Alek dried his face with his shirt, dressed, and returned to the house. The entire journey, he thought of ways to apologize. Solenne had pushed him, but he had deserved worse. Travers was none too thrilled about the puddles he left on the floor. Once he changed into dry clothes, he snuck into the kitchen and begged Cook for a favor. With promises made to clean and organize the scullery, he took his basket and found paper and ink in a desk drawer in the library.
He scratched out a note.
“Please accept these lemon cookies as an apology for my atrocious behavior last night and this afternoon. Cook says these are your second favorite and that more groveling is required for your favorite. So I apologize for that, as well.
“I understand that we are no longer the people we once were, but I had hoped that our friendship had not changed. Again, my apologies.”
He blew over the ink to dry and reread. The apology fell short of his intentions, but anything other than laying on the ground and bearing his throat to Solenne felt inadequate.
Alek delivered the basket to her workshop door and knocked. He hurried around the corner, in case she did not wish to speak to him.
The door opened. Her hair hung down to air dry, and she had changed into a shapeless tunic and trousers.
Shame. He rather liked the breezy yellow dress she had worn. The fabric went nearly translucent when wet. The beast especially liked that fact.
She read the note and folded it carefully. “You do realize you wouldn’t have to sneak cookies away from Cook if you behaved,” she said.
No doubt, but she had pushed him, and he did not regret the moments he held her in the water.
He scrubbed a hand over his brow. This was dangerous. He gave his word not to interfere with Solenne, and here he was flirting over baskets of cookies. Still, he could not resist the pull of her. He needed to stay away.
Alek retreated down the corridor.
Chapter 8
Solenne
Boxon Hill
Marechal House - The Library
“I say!”Colonel Chambers shouted, rearing back as he spotted the creature lurking in the shadowy recess of the library. His cane thumped against the floor as he took a defensive stance. “Miss Marechal, are you well?”
“Oh, that’s just Tristan. He’s quite harmless as he is stuffed.” Solenne turned her attention from the window and faced her visitor.
Chambers approached the stuffed monster, radiating curiosity. “Stuffed. Godwin mentioned this curiosity once, but I did not believe him. Fascinating.”
“Grandfather hunted him and had him stuffed.” Gutted and stuffed with a concoction of chemicals and sawdust, the transformed wolf stood on his hind legs. Tucked into a corner to prevent further degradation from sunlight, he lurked, mostly ignored. Tristan needed a good dusting, but Solenne hated the thing.
The creature had a remarkably human face. Perhaps it was familiarity on Solenne’s part that saw the human still trapped inside the beast, because so many natural features had been twisted by the curse.
Tristan’s nose and mouth pulled forward into a short snout. Deformed lips had been curled back into a snarl. Age yellowed the teeth, but Solenne knew they were still razor sharp. Faded violet-tinged fur covered his face in a shaggy beard, but the rest of his body was covered in a short pelt.
The eyes, though, remained fully human. Painted glass, they sparkled in the light when cleaned, watching. Sometimes it felt as if he understood his fate, hunted, stuffed, and kept as a curiosity. Dusty as those eyes were now, they stared out blindly from under a gray film. It seemed kinder, somehow.
