“I can shift. Surprise.”
“The rabbit, Isadora.”
What?
She looked down and realized one of her hands was still a wolf’s paw, and it pinned the rabbit to the ground.
“Oh, look. Didn’t know they liked to offer themselves.”
Her Daddy’s eyebrows disappeared into his hair. “How the hell do you even know words like– You know what? Never mind.”
“Hell isn’t a good word, Daddy.”
He glared at her. “Says the one who just said it.”
She swallowed. “Ten points.”
“What?”
“You got me, so you win ten points.”
“Remind me never to let Silva babysit you again.”
“Twenty points.”
“What the hell, Isadora?”
“She says every time you say that and let her anyway, I get twenty points.”
Daddy pinched his nose, closing his eyes. “I’m going to kill that Fae.”
No!
Isadora leapt to her feet, the rabbit forgotten. No one was going to hurt Auntie Silva. No one. Her wolf agreed. Silva was theirs.
She growled at her father and crouched low to the ground. “Leave her alone.”
“Do you want to test me, pup?”
Okay, so her daddy’s growl was much worse than hers, but she wasn’t going to let it go. Kill it!
“You can’t kill your father, Isadora.”
“I–” Isadora shook her head. No, she didn’t want to kill Daddy. Why would she?
“It’s your wolf. The instincts to protect who is part of your ‘pack.’ Right now, you don’t know those ways, but your wolf recognizes it. Silva is one of yours, and I’ve threatened her. You can’t help it.” Her Daddy sighed. “I will not harm her, Isadora. It was only a saying.”
Instantly, Izzy relaxed, and so did Isadora. “Daddy, I don’t like this.”
“No, I would guess you wouldn’t. We are wild animals, Isadora, even when we walk on two legs. We live in violence and understand it. You should have had a decade, at least, to get used to your wolf, mock fight, and gain skills before it asked this of you. We just have to change how we do this.”
“Does that mean something is wrong with me? Am I a freak?”
Daddy sank to his haunches, and it was the best feeling in the world when he pulled her into his arms, tucking her face against his chest. His strong, steady heartbeat soothed her, even if the smell of his wolf made her a bit agitated.
“You are a year and a half old, Isadora. You shouldn’t be able to talk like this, let alone run or shift. Your world is something we’ve never seen before. It makes you special, a priceless masterpiece I’d never trade for anything in the world.”
Isadora didn’t know how one-and-a-half-year-olds were supposed to act. She was just … her. And even when she went to school, she was with older students. Something about social skills.
