step of the step stool she used to reach the higher mail slots in the sorting room’s back wall. She pushed down her sock.
He crouched to take a look. She’d smeared her ankle with the stinky ointment humans used when they got hurt. To him, that medicine smell meant wound . But the scrape above her ankle bone? She could have done that brushing against a branch or a stone. Definitely not a bite. Just a layer or two of skin stripped off by a tooth. Just enough for blood to replace the missing skin.
Is she really that fragile? Simon thought as he studied the scrape. Can it take so little to damage her? Then again, her skin had split just because the winter air was dry.
How could she live among them? How could she play with Sam—or with him? No matter how careful they were, there would be bumps, scrapes, nicks. How long could she survive? It was said the cassandra sangue’s body had a thousand cuts. Was that just the cuts with the razor, or did every little scrape count as well?
As soon as he stood, she pulled up her sock and moved away from the step stool.
“It wasn’t Nathan’s fault,” she said. “If it was anyone’s fault, it was mine. I needed to cut. Something was going to burst inside me if I couldn’t get it out.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “Did something happen to one of the Sanguinati?”
“No.” But it could have. Vlad had gone off alone without telling anyone anything, not even the direction he was heading. If he hadn’t been called back … “No, all the Sanguinati are back in the Courtyard.” He took a step toward her, immediately stopping when she tensed. “Meg, this isn’t good for you. Twice in one day? There has to be something you can do, that we can do.”
“What? Put me in a cage?”
He flinched. “I’ve had enough of cages.” He’d kept his nephew Sam in a cage for two years after Daphne was killed. It had been the only way to keep the pup safe. That had been a strain on all the Wolfgard living in the Courtyard. He wasn’t going to do it again—even if it meant letting Meg die young. “If you cut when you’re out of control, you could kill yourself.” He might have to let it happen, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t fight against it.
“I know.” She hesitated. “I want to think about this for a little bit.”
She sounded dismissive. Resentment swelled up inside him.
“Why are you shutting me out?” he shouted.
She jolted, looking as skittish as a lame rabbit. Then her gray eyes lit with anger. “I’m shutting you out? I tell you I’m not ready to have sex, and you treat me like I’m diseased!”
“What?” Shit, fuck, damn. Females! “I thought we settled this. And I wasn’t treating you like you were diseased. That’s ridiculous.”
“On Earthday, you didn’t invite me to take a walk with you and Sam. And when I came over for movie night, you were so distant, like you didn’t want to be bothered with me anymore.” Her eyes filled with tears.
Not fair, Meg. That is so not fair! “I wasn’t being distant. I was trying to be polite!” He paced for a minute, snarling under his breath. “There are always rules and more rules when it comes to dealing with humans. But I don’t know the rules for this because I’ve never had a human friend. I like spending time with you and playing with you. I like the way the three of us cuddle together on the sofa when we watch a movie. Those things are important to me.”
“They’re important to me too,” Meg said, sniffling as she wiped a tear off her cheek.
“Then why can’t we do that?” he asked, trying not to whine.
She looked away, her brow furrowed like she was thinking hard. “The other morning, why did you shift to human and get into bed with me?”
They were back to that? Really? “To talk to you. To find out what had scared you so much that you kicked me off the bed.” He growled in frustration. “All I wanted was my share of the covers.”
“But you have fur.”
“Not
He crouched to take a look. She’d smeared her ankle with the stinky ointment humans used when they got hurt. To him, that medicine smell meant wound . But the scrape above her ankle bone? She could have done that brushing against a branch or a stone. Definitely not a bite. Just a layer or two of skin stripped off by a tooth. Just enough for blood to replace the missing skin.
Is she really that fragile? Simon thought as he studied the scrape. Can it take so little to damage her? Then again, her skin had split just because the winter air was dry.
How could she live among them? How could she play with Sam—or with him? No matter how careful they were, there would be bumps, scrapes, nicks. How long could she survive? It was said the cassandra sangue’s body had a thousand cuts. Was that just the cuts with the razor, or did every little scrape count as well?
As soon as he stood, she pulled up her sock and moved away from the step stool.
“It wasn’t Nathan’s fault,” she said. “If it was anyone’s fault, it was mine. I needed to cut. Something was going to burst inside me if I couldn’t get it out.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “Did something happen to one of the Sanguinati?”
“No.” But it could have. Vlad had gone off alone without telling anyone anything, not even the direction he was heading. If he hadn’t been called back … “No, all the Sanguinati are back in the Courtyard.” He took a step toward her, immediately stopping when she tensed. “Meg, this isn’t good for you. Twice in one day? There has to be something you can do, that we can do.”
“What? Put me in a cage?”
He flinched. “I’ve had enough of cages.” He’d kept his nephew Sam in a cage for two years after Daphne was killed. It had been the only way to keep the pup safe. That had been a strain on all the Wolfgard living in the Courtyard. He wasn’t going to do it again—even if it meant letting Meg die young. “If you cut when you’re out of control, you could kill yourself.” He might have to let it happen, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t fight against it.
“I know.” She hesitated. “I want to think about this for a little bit.”
She sounded dismissive. Resentment swelled up inside him.
“Why are you shutting me out?” he shouted.
She jolted, looking as skittish as a lame rabbit. Then her gray eyes lit with anger. “I’m shutting you out? I tell you I’m not ready to have sex, and you treat me like I’m diseased!”
“What?” Shit, fuck, damn. Females! “I thought we settled this. And I wasn’t treating you like you were diseased. That’s ridiculous.”
“On Earthday, you didn’t invite me to take a walk with you and Sam. And when I came over for movie night, you were so distant, like you didn’t want to be bothered with me anymore.” Her eyes filled with tears.
Not fair, Meg. That is so not fair! “I wasn’t being distant. I was trying to be polite!” He paced for a minute, snarling under his breath. “There are always rules and more rules when it comes to dealing with humans. But I don’t know the rules for this because I’ve never had a human friend. I like spending time with you and playing with you. I like the way the three of us cuddle together on the sofa when we watch a movie. Those things are important to me.”
“They’re important to me too,” Meg said, sniffling as she wiped a tear off her cheek.
“Then why can’t we do that?” he asked, trying not to whine.
She looked away, her brow furrowed like she was thinking hard. “The other morning, why did you shift to human and get into bed with me?”
They were back to that? Really? “To talk to you. To find out what had scared you so much that you kicked me off the bed.” He growled in frustration. “All I wanted was my share of the covers.”
“But you have fur.”
“Not
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