Page 28 of Hallowed Bones

“Yes,” she says. “Just like that. Sometimes the people we love do things that we don’t like. That doesn’t mean we don’t love them but that our love endures even when they behave in ways we don’t agree with.”

Unfolding my arms, I clamp one hand over the lip of the swing and lift my other one. Scars run over the backs of my knuckles—three little lines that Uncle D assured me would fade with time. If it fades, does that mean it’s not really a scar?

Unable to help myself, I reach up and touch the accompanying scars that crisscross over my face. It’s been months since Lyall’s wolf got mad at me, and it seems like Lyall hates his wolf more than I do. My chest squeezes as if there’s a hurt inside. The doctor said my eyesight wasn’t affected, but Lyall still won’t let his wolf play with me. I wonder if it’s because he’s scared of him.

“I still like Lyall,” I tell Anna, my hand dropping away from my face. “Even when he hurts me—I know he doesn’t mean to.”

Anna pushes her hand through my hair, moving several of the strands away from my forehead. “You two play so rough,” she murmurs, and despite her obvious disapproval, she doesn’t sound angry. “If you still like someone even after they do something mean, then you might love them. You probably love Lyall because he’s like a brother to you. So you can forgive him when he does things you don’t like.”

I clamp my lips shut when the truth threatens to spill out. Anna isn’t supposed to know about what Lyall can do. It’s not that we play rough, but we need to practice our magic and Ezra is usually too tired and worn down from the training his dad gives him, and Cameron … well, Cameron is too small for Lyall’s wolf. No one else can do it but me. Even still, it’s been months since Lyall has looked at me directly. He won’t even let his wolf out now, and Uncle Leo says he’ll be in big trouble if he ignores the wolf. I just wish Lyall would believe me when I tell him I’m not mad. I know he didn’t mean to hurt me so bad.

With a sigh, I let my hand drop again. “What about other types of love?” I ask. “Like you and Uncle D?”

Anna’s blush returns, deeper and redder than before. She coughs delicately and turns her head away. “Dimitri and I are … erm … Our situation is a bit different from normal circumstances,” she says.

“Because of your eyes?” I ask. A thought occurs to me, and for some reason, it bothers me. I scrunch my face up as I reach for Anna’s hand and hold on tightly. Her head whips back in my direction, and though I know she can’t see my face, I stare into the reflection of her glasses. “If he doesn’t like you because you can’t see, I’ll beat him up,” I say. “It’s not fair. You didn’t ask for your eyes not to work.”

Anna laughs lightly and shakes her head. “No, sweetie,” she says assuringly. “No, that’s not it. Dimitri doesn’t care about my eyes, but I’m so glad to know that you think that way. Everyone has their faults and their secret wounds. One day, the person you’ll fall in love with will be no different. Remember that; to know love is to care for them as they are.”

I roll my eyes. “Being blind isn’t a fault,” I reply. “You can still do things. ’Sides…” I eye her narrowly. “You can always tell when we’re doing something we’re not s’posed to.”

She grins. “That I can.” Anna leans close, and then, before I realize what she’s about to do, she clamps her hands around my sides and squeezes. I scream and wiggle as she tickles me. “I’m magical, remember?” she says as we laugh together.

And despite what Dad says about normals, I think she might be right this time. Anna makes me laugh when no other adult does.

CHAPTER 11LYALL

The lacerations appear to have been inflicted with considerable force, tearing through dermal and subdermal tissue. The child is lucky to be able to keep his sight. Scarring will be significant and permanent. Recommend observation for infection and trauma counseling. Never in all my years of a doctor have I ever seen such deep scarring from an animal like this that didn’t result in the death of the patient.

—EXCERPT FROM UNOFFICIAL MEDICAL REPORT IN REGARD TO PATIENT REYES SCOTT, MALE, EIGHT YEARS

Some witches are born wicked, and some find wickedness like a drug they can’t help but be attracted to. Of the two, I am the latter—always on the edge of taking my power too far. Letting the animal take control and erase the last cognizant thought of what it means to be human.

When I am the wolf and the wolf is me, I don’t have to consider the games of men. The wolf only knows survival. When we were kids, that’s all I wanted. To survive.

We are men now, and today, I want more. I want her.

I lift my muzzle into the wind and catch a hint of something that shouldn’t be there. My lips peel back from my sharp canines. A low growl rumbles up from my throat.

Blood.

Not just any blood but the fresh kind. A recent kill.

Hunters? No one should be hunting on coven land. The locals know to avoid Bishop Manor and the property surrounding it.

Jumping down from the rock I’m perched upon, my paws slam into the earth, and I take off. Trees whip past, air sliding down the back of my flanks as I trail the scent deeper and deeper into the forest.

The sharp cry of a bird overhead has me slowing my gait to look up. Crows. Although crows aren’t always a bad omen, combined with the sense of wrongness that has entered the woods and the telltale scent of blood on the back of my tongue, it cannot be a good sign. Forcing my body lower, I run faster.

Moss under my paws. The scent of death grows thicker, filling my nostrils until the softness of nature is pushed out. More growls rumble, trapped inside.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

My wolf snarls the word. I agree. Whoever has intruded upon this land and sullied it with their greed of life will end the same as their prey. Claws dig into dirt beneath me as I slow to a crawl, nearly upon the origin of the smell.

Trees concentrated in thick groves around me, I creep forward on silent steps. Leaves wet from morning dew make hardly a sound as I peer out from between a fallen oak and the ground.

What I see causes my wolf to freeze in shock. The man, however, doesn’t. I jerk upward, and by the time I’ve shifted and stepped into the clearing beyond on human feet, I curse the sight before me.