Chapter 49

Wyatt

"So you can read all languages or do you understand them all?" I asked, leaning against the headboard. "I can understand them but I can only speak the ones that I hear more often," she said, closing the book and looking up at me. her palms held the book more like a Cherished stuffed toy than a boring text. "Why did you pick that one?" I asked, pointing at the book in her hands. She brought it to her heart, bent her head, and inhaled.

Tears threatened the corners of her eyes. "It still smells like him, it was his favorite. It took me an extra month to sneak this baby out," she said, taking in another lingering whiff as she bent down her head, her hair falling forward. She handed it to me. "It may be my imagination, but to me, I can still smell his tobacco, the white sage he was always burning, and a hint of his aftershave." She mussed. "Tell me Rougarou, what do you smell?" She asked me as she handed me the book. I was hesitant to take it, but when she pushed I couldn't help bu