The Song Of The Wolf (Edited & Rewritten)

Chapter Seven

The wolves that dwelt in the national park howled, their cries curling on the lonely morning like ribbons. Sonic threads wound around the trees, spun to trip and ensnare, filaments pulling taut against the receding darkness. The wind had breached the sanctity of her bedroom, coaxing the curtain flaps in and out of the window with every gust. Amid the forlorn singing, one howl rang out, silencing the rest.

Maebh startled awake, breath escaping her in clouds. She crept out of bed, and slammed the window shut, racking her brain for when she had even opened it. A thick blanket of white covered the wildflower field behind the house, untouched and untrodden save for a single trail of paw prints. Shivering, she rubbed the frost off the glass. It was a miracle she had not succumbed to hypothermia in her sleep.

Maebh garbed herself in her cosiest clothes and padded downstairs. The accursed cast had been sawed off her ankle. But the weeks of immobilisation had weakened her muscles, resulting in unsteady movements. On the bright side, she no longer had to navigate the stairs through awkward arse-hopping.

From within the walls, the aged pipes gurgled as the heated water pumped through. Work had finished on the house and garden, but that did not deter Coinín from raiding her fridge or coming over to dodge Maggie's hormonal fits. Maebh called out his name, assuming he had been the one to turn on the heating. As she stepped into the kitchen, a foul mood burst forth.

'What are you doing here?' she asked, voice as frosty as her feet.

'Good morning to you too, Mae,' Bear said, leaning against her counter.

Her father must have made quite an impact, Maebh had seen little of Bear during the rest of her parents' visit. In the wake of their flight back to Ireland, it became clear the man had heeded the threat. Sure, he would drop off Logan twice a week for babysitting duties, but that required minimal interaction.

Having learned from the accidental eye-reveal, Maebh had ramped up her contact lens-wearing. She put them in first thing in the morning, and took them out just before going to bed. Even so, that all-too-familiar expression found its way onto Bear's face. And his efforts to sidestep her gaze could not cloak the instances their eyes did meet. He stared at her as if he was able to bypass the illusion of the blue contacts, and pierce through the layers of cosmetic artifice that concealed the lavender fields beneath.

Maebh smoothed her rumpled jumper. 'I don't appreciate you entering my house without my knowledge. How did you even get in?'

'But Coi can?' Bear said with the gall to look annoyed. 'And what's with the hostile tone?'

Steam practically emitted from her ears. 'You think you can just– make yourself at home here after avoiding me for weeks?'

'I saw you on Monday!'

'To dump your son on my doorstep!'

Bear looked at her in an accusing manner. 'Oh so you do mind watching him?'

'I adore Logan, that is not the point. I want to rewind the clock, to when you gave me more energy than you took,' she said.

'So– what you're saying is– is that you have reconsidered my offer?'

Her eyebrows knitted together. 'What offer?'

'Of running away.'

'Jesus Christ, Bear! Wise up!' she brayed. 'It's like talking to a bag of cement!'

He rolled his eyes, and she had to stop herself from poking them out of his skull.

'How else do you propose things will go back to how they were? My brother has all but banned me from seeing you and your father has threatened to kill me if I do.'