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THIRTY-SEVEN | WONDER
I pulled the door open slowly, wary about who might be on the other side. The knock definitely wasn’t Falmer’s – he was abrupt, aloof, and never quiet, unless he was scheming slyly in the corner. His knocks meant business. This one was… shy.
As I reached for the door handle, I wondered, for a beautiful, terrifying second, if it could be Skye. His knocks would be quiet, I imagined, and polite, and more than a little uncomfortable. Skye always seemed as though his skin didn’t fit quite right; he stood awkwardly, as if afraid to stand up to his full height.
Thinking of him made my heart blister with warmth, but I shook my head at myself. He wouldn’t risk coming here; he definitely wouldn’t risk coming inside.
I smoothed down the front of my dungarees, pushing out the crinkles in my t-shirt, and then I pulled the door open.
It was Kathrena. She looked b
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She Runs with Wolves THIRTY-EIGHT | ROWAN
“Look, Ellis – are you sure about this?” Kathrena sounded nervous, and she refused to meet my gaze.The truck rumbled along quietly as I pulled into Aspen High’s car park. The sun was golden, with a cold quality to the light that spoke of chilly evenings, of gloved hands stuffed into warm pockets, and of pumpkin spiced lattes. I smiled to myself at the thought of that, and I imagined Skye sipping at one, shyly glancing at me across the worn wooden table in the coffee shop.“I’m certain,” I said, swinging the truck into a parking space. As I twisted the key, turning off the engine, I shifted in my seat to face her.“But–““But nothing,” I interjected, my eyebrows raised. “Your friend wants to meet you in town. So does mine. So I’ll drive us both to town, straight after final period. I’m going to the library
She Runs with Wolves THIRTY-NINE | MARROWS AND BUTTERNUT SQUASH
Kathrena was holding her books and binders close to her chest, and tapping her foot irritably when I reached my truck. The day had warmed, the autumnal chill receding for a few hours, but as the afternoon sky cleared there was a bite to the air that nipped at my fingers.I wished that I could feel it; really feel it, rather than being able to process the temperature change like an analyst. I wanted to shiver, to shove my hands deep into my pockets, and then, later, for Skye to coo over my cold hands, to pull them into his own and blow on them, rubbing them together with determination etched into the handsome lines of his face.I sighed, and Kathrena’s slack-jawed, anxious expression snapped into a frown. “You’re sighing?” She sniped. “You’re the one making me late. Again.”“Woah, Kath,” I said, holding my hands up. “Sorry. I got held up.”Her face softened, ever so slightly, and she shifted the weight of the folders in her arms. “I guess it’s only been a few minutes.”I narrowed my eye
She Runs with Wolves FORTY | THE HAWTHORN CENTRAL LIBRARY
Skye carefully placed the pumpkin down on the small table we’d chosen. It was right by a wide floor-to-ceiling window, and it was secluded from the rest of the library.I laughed, seeing the flush of red in his cheeks as he dropped heavily into his chair. “You didn’t have to get me such a big one, you know.”He shrugged, but he looked hopeful and more than a little proud of himself as he looked at me. “Four years is a long time to go without carving a pumpkin. You deserve a big one. It doesn’t make up for the lost time, but it’s a good start.”“You’re sweet,” I smiled, dropping my gaze and fluttering my lashes as I felt the heat of his golden eyes roving across my face. “Thank you.”“You’re welcome. You – you look really nice today, by the way.”“Thanks,” I said, and my stomach flipped. I shook myself, and I managed to re-arrange my features into a smooth, confident grin. “So. What did you find?”“Well,” he said, swelling up with pride, “it’s a story. An old legend, about this good vam
She Runs with Wolves FORTY-ONE | HOME
We looked through the books until the evening drew in, the warped glass of the windows dispersing the orange light of the streetlamps from outside into curved spirals and fragmented dots. It looked like golden-hued diamonds, scattered across a dark and turbulent sea.Skye stayed close as we searched, peppering my cheeks with kisses whenever I brushed past him to tug a heavy book out from the shelves. It was sweet, and I imagined myself blushing each and every time.I started to do the same, running my fingers along his bare forearm, or tracing the curve of his neck with my lips, as I stretched up or bent down. It was easy, light and teasing, but with an undercurrent of hot, heady passion, and of warmth, that kept the golden string between our hearts taut. I could feel him, steady and thrumming, at the other end of our shared bond, and he felt like home.But eventually my phone buzzed, vibrating insistently against
She Runs with Wolves FORTY-TWO | RUMOURS
Kathrena’s eyes nearly fell out of her head as she gawped at the giant pumpkin in my arms. I was more than a little smug that I was able to carry it with the same ease that Skye had, and he’d laughed along with me, putting a hand on my shoulder and suggesting that I do the heavy lifting in the relationship from now on.Then we’d kissed goodbye, the pumpkin quickly forgotten, and the kiss had lingered on my lips, and in my thoughts, as I’d watched him slip away. The crowd had died down, now, and there were only a few dog walkers out, picking their way through the fallen leaves as their pets scurried along beside them, their noses to the ground.“It’s great that you’re getting in the Halloween spirit, El, but did you need to buy such a big one?” Kathrena grinned. Her friend, it seemed, had put her in a jovial mood.I wiggled my eyebrows at her. “My friend picke
She Runs with Wolves FORTY-THREE | CLOUDED
“What is he, then?” I’d felt as though I’d been slammed against the wall as Skye had spoken, his voice distorted by the poor signal in the woods. “A human.”I ran the conversation back through my head as I got ready for the Pumpkin Fayre. My truce with Kathrena had become uneasy as of late, ever since Skye had passed on what Susie had said about her date in the coffee shop. Though I felt that I could trust her not to tell anyone about our trysts in the library and coffee shop, respectively, I felt as though she’d broken our fragile trust by meeting up with a human, rather than a werewolf.Even though it was my own fault. If I hadn’t gone digging, I wouldn’t have found something that I didn’t like. My brush caught in a knot in my hair, and I yanked it through, grimacing at my reflection in the mirror. I met my eyes, warm brown, almost gold in the candlelight, and my lips tugged up into a smile. In the week that had passed, I had to admit that everything else in my life had been good.
She Runs with Wolves FORTY-FOUR | THE PUMPKIN FAYRE (PART 1)
The Pumpkin Fayre took place in a small meadow that edged the high street, and it stretched all the way from the pedestrianised section of the town to the back hedges of the meadow. Kathrena and I had to park further afield than usual, as the nearby lanes were littered with parked cars. Some were slung across verges, and others were left at crooked angles, half on the kerb and half in the road.“So,” she said, half leaning out of the truck door, “need to know?”“Need to know,” I nodded, with a tight-lipped smile. “We should probably stay close-ish, though.”“I agree.” Kathrena jumped down, and smoothed down the lapels of her checked blazer. “Just – don’t look too closely, okay? I – I will tell you when I’m ready. I’m just scared,” she admitted, her voice hollow-sounding as she dropped her eyes to the pavement.I averted my own gaze as I replied. “It is scary, Kath. But this would be easier if we could be honest with each other.”“And we will be.” Then the words spilled out of her, floo
She Runs with Wolves FORTY-FIVE | THE PUMPKIN FAYRE (PART 2)
“Okay,” I laughed, shaking my head in disbelief. “This is incredible.”The dusky purple twilight, masked by a few thin, grey clouds, shone above the meadow. But the field below was cast into darkness, save for the flickering of a few dim solar lamps stuck into the ground. There were no children up here, and the meadow felt still in the comparative silence.The sounds of the Fayre carried – we hadn’t walked far – but the atmosphere was starkly different up here. The meadow was teeming with pumpkins, many of which had been carved into, forcing gory, threatening grins and narrowed slits for eyes into their rounded faces. Above, there was a brief buzzing sound, followed by a sudden shock of light. There were great bulbs strung across the meadow, too, it seemed, but as quickly as they’d come on, they shut off again.The sheer volume of pumpkins was what made the display
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