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“And you! What have you been doing the whole time we were gone? Where’s our lunch?”
My aunt threw the hat box she’d been carrying on the floor. I shrank further into myself, trying to stammer an explanation.
“I—I didn’t know you when you’d be home. I can make a tray right away.”
Margaret stomped her foot before turning and rushing up the stairs, leaving me alone with my aunt. William hadn’t bothered to stop on his way in, already closed behind his bedroom door.
Aunt Mary grew silent, her glare fierce as she stepped closer to me. Hand darting out to grip my wrist, she yanked me forward, making me land wrong on my hurt foot and release a hiss of pain.
“What’s this? Do something you shouldn’t have?”
The wicked look in my aunt’s eye sent a chill down my spine as I trembled in the older woman’s grip. Scrambling for an excuse, I said the first thing that came to mind.
“No. I—I dropped a bowl and stepped on a shard.”
My aunt sneered, the look of triumph pulling a whine from my throat before I could swallow it. She straightened, holding my arm out to the side as I stood frozen, unable to breath as I waited for her punishment.
“I guess you should be more careful then,” she said as her heel came down on my injured toes.
I couldn’t stop the scream that ripped from my chest, the sudden throbbing pressure followed by burning pain. A gush of wetness in my slipper told me there was fresh blood, confirmed as the smell of it rose.
My aunt released my wrist, shoving me away so I stumbled and fell on my side. Reaching down to hold my ankle, I turned blurry eyes up to my aunt when she spoke again.
“I expect a full lunch on the table immediately, or there will be worse punishment for your laziness.”
I couldn’t gather my wits fast enough to respond as my aunt turned and went up the stairs. Aunt Mary had stopped our usual deliveries before they left, and the little that hadn’t been served before the trip was what I had eaten while they were gone. Even if I could stand, there wasn’t much for me to prepare for them that they would consider suitable.
Swallowing sobs as I fought back the anger growing in my chest, I used the side table to pull myself up onto my good foot. Each hop I took toward the kitchen sent a pulse of pain through the foot that was leaving a trail of blood drops behind me, but I had sunk into a pit of despair that I couldn’t see my way out of.
I never should have come back. These monsters were no family to me, no matter the blood we shared. I was a fool.
When I pushed open the door to the kitchen, another scream almost ripped from my throat. The hulking shape standing in the doorway to the garden made my heart lurch painfully, and only a deep breath made me realized who it was.
“De’drik?”
“Ivy!”
My eyes widened as the giant monster rushed through my little kitchen, his smile morphing into a frown as he took in the way I leaned against the frame, my foot raised behind me. Hands wrapping around my waist, he lifted and spun me, depositing me on the counter before taking hold of my calf.
“What happened?”
His rough growl sent a shiver down my spine, my nipples pebbling. The anger in his voice sparked a fission of fear, but it was drowned beneath the way I reacted to his presence. And while I wasn’t afraid he’d do anything to hurt me, I wasn’t so sure he wouldn’t feel the need to avenge me if he knew what my aunt had done.
“N—nothing. I… fell and hurt it again.”
With careful fingers, De’drik unwrapped the blood-soaked strips of hide he had put on my foot. I gritted my teeth to hold back sobs with every movement until my wound was exposed to the sunlight coming in the window.
The only thing keeping me from screaming was how odd De’drik looked inside my kitchen, his unbroken horn almost tangling in the pots hanging from the ceiling. He was too large to fit here, the sight almost comical.
His growl was low as he tossed the bandage into the fire, raising the hairs along my arms. Unable to see the bottom of my foot where the punctures were, I couldn’t tell if it looked worse or not.
“I need water, needle, thread, and clean bandages.”
His jaw clenched when he finished listing the supplies, the muscles flexing in his cheek as he held my foot up. His eyes were stormy when he looked up at me, hurt mixed with anger warring with the concern in his gaze.
Pointing him to the bucket of clean water in the corner, I was able to tell him where the bandages and supplies were as my brain started to function again. If my aunt came into the kitchen with him here, I wasn’t sure how I could explain his presence, so I hoped I didn’t have to, but I also knew I needed help, and my family wasn’t going to provide it.
Uncaring about the mess, he took hold of my ankle once he returned and poured water over my foot, blood sluicing to the floor and splattering across the flagstones. I almost vomited when he applied pressure to slow the bleeding, but I bit my lip instead, whimpering deep in my throat as his purr throbbed in time with the pulsing in my foot.
