Chapter 2

I didn't sleep.

At dawn, I ended up in the herb garden behind the cabin.

Dane brought every plant in it from Ashfen. Cuttings from Linnea's own garden. Feverfew, yarrow, silver sage. In the middle sat a flat river stone with her name cut into it. He planted it all the spring after she died, kneeling in the dirt for three days straight.

"She's the reason I'm alive," he told me once, his hand in mine between the rows. "You're the reason I want to be."

I believed him.

For five years, I weeded this garden. I watered it through two droughts. I sat with him here on every anniversary and held his hand while he stared at that stone.

Standing there in the gray light, I finally understood what I'd been doing. I'd been keeping her place warm.

And now her sister was here. Same eyes. Same laugh. Same blood as the blood in his veins.

"You're up early."

I turned.

Odessa stood at the garden gate in a white dress. Her hair was braided over one shoulder, the same way Linnea wore it in the photo on the mantel.

"He really loved her, didn't he?" She drifted down the rows, letting her fingers brush the sage. "You can tell from how carefully he keeps all this."

I knew. I was the one who kept it.

"It must be hard for you." Her voice was syrupy with sympathy. "Five years, and your neck's still bare. No mark. No ceremony. Not even an announcement."

She laid a hand on her belly.

"I've been here one year. And look what I've got."

"You've got a wolf that's dying," I said flatly. "Congratulations."

Something flickered behind her eyes. She smoothed it over with a sad smile.

"You're right. I probably won't see this pup grow up. But at least I'll go knowing I mattered to him."

She stepped closer.

"Can you say the same? After everything you've done for him, all those years of waiting... what do you have to show for it, Tamsin?"

My hands curled into fists.

"You should go lie down. Stress is bad for the pup."

"Oh, I'm fine." She smiled. "I only wanted to talk. Woman to woman."

Her gaze drifted up the path toward the altar.

"He promised me I'll walk the moon circle before my wolf goes. In a proper gown, with the whole altar lit." She sighed. "I've always wanted that."

My heart stopped.

"He wouldn't."

"Wouldn't he?" She tilted her head. "He put me in the Luna's chair. He gave me your bed. He's going to be a father to my pup." Her smile sharpened. "Why would he stop at a walk?"

"You—"

Her face changed.

Her eyes went wide. She stumbled backward, hands raised in front of her.

"Don't! Don't let your wolf at me—please!"

I froze. "I haven't done anything."

"Get back!"

She staggered sideways, clutching her belly. Her heel caught the edge of Linnea's stone, and she went down hard between the rows with a scream.

"Dane! The pup—Dane!"

The cabin door banged open.

Dane was there in seconds, white to the lips. He dropped to his knees beside her.

"Odessa. What happened? Are you hurt?"

She clung to him, sobbing.

"I just wanted to talk to her... I thought we could be friends... but she let her wolf out at me." Her voice broke. "I can't hold mine up against her, Dane. I can't. I just fell—"

His head snapped toward me.

The look in his eyes went straight through me.

"You flared at her?"

"I didn't." My voice shook. "She's lying. I never—"

"She can barely keep her wolf alive!" He was on his feet with Odessa in his arms. "How could you do that to her? I thought you were better than this!"

"Dane, listen to me—"

"There's nobody else up here!" His voice cracked. "Just you and her. If you didn't do anything, why is she on the ground?"

"I don't know! She just—"

"Enough."

One word, and it landed like a slammed door.

He turned and carried her into the cabin without looking back.

I stood alone in Linnea's garden, shaking.

An hour later, the healer came and went.

I heard Dane down the hall, low and worried, asking about bed rest and whether the pup's heartbeat was steady.

Then my door opened.

He stood in the frame, gray with exhaustion.

"The healer says no more shocks. Her wolf can't take it."

"I didn't—"

"I don't want to hear it." He scrubbed a hand over his face. "Just stay away from her, Tamsin. Please. For the pup's sake."

He left before I could answer.

That afternoon, I went out to the porch for air.

Odessa's mug sat on the railing, half full of cold tea. I wasn't looking for anything. But the wind shifted, and under the honey I caught it.

Bitter. Faintly purple, the way only one plant ever smells.

Every wolf in the valley learns that scent before they learn to walk. Wolfsbane.

Not enough to kill. Just enough to make a wolf sick. Cloudy eyes. Sour scent. Shaking hands.

Her knitted bag hung on the porch chair. Inside was a small dark bottle, no label.

My hands moved before I could think. I pulled the little glass vial I kept my sewing beads in out of my pocket, tipped the beads into my palm, and filled the vial from the bottle. I'd just pushed the cork back in when the door creaked.

"Find something?"

Odessa leaned in the doorway. She didn't look sick now. She looked amused.

I held up the bottle. "You're poisoning yourself."

"A pinch a day." She shrugged. "Cloudy eyes, sour scent. Even Dane's nose believes it. And the healer says whatever I pay her to say. Wolf-wither. No cure. So tragic." She examined her nails. "He cried, you know. Right there in the healer's lodge."

"You've been dosing yourself for a year? Just to—"

"A little poison is cheaper than being nobody."

She came down the steps, every trace of weakness gone.

"So what now? You'll tell him?" Her smile went cold. "After this morning?"

She nodded at the bottle in my hand.

"Go on. Take it to him."