“Can’t wait for the full moon, then. I’d love to see your wolf form.” He says it suggestively, but not in the try-hard way of a third date dropping hints that they’ve been wondering about the view from my apartment. This is a purely intellectual pursuit on his part:
I’d love to read that article on micro-dosing.
I’d love to snorkel in the coral reef, if the opportunity were to arise. I’d love to catch you in a lie. Still, something twisted in my brain registers it as inappropriate and dirty and disturbing and glorious and . . .
I have seen Koen’s wolf form. The glossy black fur that reminds me of his hair. The large paws. That white tuft right on his chest, above the spot where his heart beats. The size of him. He is very much
Koen at a level I cannot put in words. He could be standing next to a dozen identical animals, and I’d still be able to single him out.
God, am I about to use the word aura?
“In the meantime, I’ll have Saul bring you food. Since you look so gaunt.”
“I do not.”
“Right. Picture of health.”
I grin. “No need to mince your words. Just say that I’m fugly, call it a day, and- “
“Serena,” he growls. His stare, the dull black of his eyes, is abrasive. Sands me down to the skeleton. “Sleep. When you wake up, I’m taking you back to the Southwest.”
“What?” No.
No. That’s where Ana is. “Please, don’t. Just think about it- “
“If you keep lying to me, I can’t properly protect you. And if I can’t protect you, I won’t keep you around.”
“I’m not- Which lie?”
He snorts softly. “You tell that many?”
“I . . .” I fidget with the sleeve of my hoodie. “I lie a lot.”
“You shouldn’t. Telling the truth can be therapeutic.”
I narrow my eyes. “You know what else can be therapeutic?”
“Punching me in the nuts?”
That’s exactly what I was going to say. “How did you know I- “
“You’re pretty fucking predictable.” He’s leaving again, and I hate him.
So much. Especially when I have no choice but to yell after him, “Fine.”
He doesn’t stop.
“I’ll tell the truth.”
Keeps walking.
I squeeze my eyes shut and force myself to admit it.
“I haven’t been able to shift in months.”
It’s not the only secret she’s been keeping. It’s not even the worst one. For now, though, he’ll play. The alternative is unacceptable.
KOEN TAKES HIS SWEET, SWEET TIME TO TURN TO ME. HIS SURPRISE at my confession couldn’t fill a puddle. “Was that so hard?”
I clench my fist. “Since you obviously already knew, why did you make me say it?”
“Hearing you verbally acknowledge your limitations brings flavor and spice to my life. Why were you keeping it a secret?”
“I don’t know. I . . . Maybe I just didn’t want you looking down on me.”
“I will never not look down on you, chiefly because of our height difference. When did it start?”
“A while ago.”
“Was it before or after I allowed you to be alone at the cabin- “
“You allowed me?”
“- under repeated reassurances that you could take care of yourself, killer?”
“I . . . Before. I already couldn’t shift.”
His jaw tics. “Here’s the deal: you’re not an idiot.”
“Wow. What a compliment.”
“Sure. Keep that in mind when I ask you why the fuck you are acting like one. How. Long?”
“It’s genuinely hard to tell. A few days after I moved to the Southwest?”
“How many?”
I try to recall. “Maybe a week or so? The first time I tried and wasn’t able to was the day after . . . after Ana returned.” The day after Koen and I met. “I also started feeling poorly, and- “
“Feeling poorly?”
Tell him, I order myself.
Tell him. Tell him everything. It’ll make things so much easier.
But it wouldn’t. It would be incredibly selfish. Things would be easier for me and significantly more complicated for everyone else. “Nothing bad. You’re right, my appetite has been low. Nausea. Issues sleeping. One of the Southwest physicians, Dr. Henshaw, said it’s stress from . . .” I shrug and smile. Artfully, if I say so myself. When it comes to my recent past, the ratio of what went wrong to what could have gone wrong is so high, it’s objectively funny. “Take your pick. Basically, I just need to wait it out and chill. Hence the cabin.”
“Are you in pain?”
I shake my head, instinctively. His expression looks so dubious, I wince. “It’s more like discomfort.”
Koen doesn’t want to believe it, but it’s obvious that he’s not sure where the lie’s at. “For someone juggling this many secrets, you’re pretty terrible at keeping them.”
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