Page 224 of These Tears

Our mouths separate slowly, breath still tangled between us. We stare at each other as if the universe has made an unreasonable demand.

When a gasp falls behind the front door, our foreheads meet. A sharp curse follows, muffled by the wood between us.

Elias moves first. I do it because he does, fingers still tingling from where his curls wound around them. I feel the loss of him more than I feel the cold that takes his place.

He crosses the room and pulls the front door open.

Winter floods in with a relentless demand.

Inga stands on the threshold, pale and wide-eyed, one hand pressed to her mouth, while Anders is already several steps beyond her with a rifle in his hands, gaze cutting over the yard.

‘Blood?’ he growls sharply.

‘Wolves,’ Elias says, his voice hoarse from the residue of our kiss.

Anders’ expression hardens. ‘I’ll call it in. If they came this close to the house, someone needs to know.’

‘Herregud,’ Inga starts towards Elias, then catches herself. Elias hesitates before opening one arm, and she folds into it, then she shifts to me.

I return the sentiment, this time with a softer set of my shoulders as she embraces me tight.

It reminds me of Anna, suddenly.

When she pulls away, her large blue eyes bleed worry as she looks at both of us. ‘Are you alright?’

‘We’re alright,’ I say. ‘They scattered back into the forest.’

‘Leah saved the day,’ Elias puts in.

‘Uh…’ I stifle an uneasy smile that threatens to bloom on my face when Inga looks from him to me and back.

‘She is wicked with a crossbow,’ he contributes, offhandedly.

With a perfectly straight face.

I go numb from head to toe. Heat rushes to my ears as Anders smiles and offers misplaced praise.

I almost swear at Elias right then and there.

‘Ah, he is joking,’ I say instead.

The devil chuckles low, his mouth barely moving when he says it – mostly for himself, ‘No, I’m not.’

Before the decision to kick him or melt into the floorboards resolves, Inga claps her hands once, the sound pulling everyone back from blood, beasts and the lingering tension in the doorway.

‘Nobody’s dead. Birthday is on!’ She scurries deeper into the kitchen as Anders lowers the rifle and mumbles something to Elias about shovels and getting rid of the blood before it attracts more animals or gives their aunt Hilde a stroke.

The world starts turning again as we begin setting everything up, avoiding Inga’s questions about why the house isn’t set up for reception.

Within an hour, though, the cabin begins changing. Snow is stomped from boots. Bags are brought in. More engines grumble through the trees. More cousins arrive in bursts of cold air and loud greetings, some carrying parcels, some carrying food. The room grows warm as people brush past each other in comfortable closeness only a family shares. The sweet aroma of coffee spreads in the atmosphere. And the house that had felt too full of silence before begins to fill with voices.

Elias stays near the wall at first. A cousin presses a mug into one of his hands. Another tugs him into a quick side embrace he stiffens through but then accepts in the end.

His eyes find me each time. My smile seems to soften the rigid line of his shoulders.

They call him Jakob here. But I begin to understand that the name is not a lie. It’s a different history. One he accepts. One he welcomes.

I deflect most questions, asking about Elias and his life here.