I can feel him, between my legs, just like he claimed I would. The frigid water numbed the sensation for a stretch, but now, the subtle soreness is back, and my body misses his.
My eyes flit up to the top of my head.
The silly crown that I was so proud of weighs heavy on my forehead now. I snatch it off, and for a brief, petulant moment, I consider chucking it to the other side of my bedroom.
But I get over that urge fast. Manny made this crown. I remember Heather mentioning once that he fashioned it one of the years he won and she was determined to win it from him the next round. She did, flaunting her victory in front of the grumbling wolf.
From afar, I thought the headpiece looked beautiful. Twisted vines and amber beads twined into the thing.
But I never asked to see it up close, afraid that my jealousy of being left out of the competition would be obvious if I reverently cradled the circlet.
It’s mine now. Won fairly.
“The crown was always meant for you.”
What did Manny mean by that?
Instead of discarding the precious headpiece, I sink to the ground and hold it in my hands, letting my fingers trace over the metal. I follow the carefully crafted roots and spindly leaves hammered from metal into a perfect plant shape.
A familiar shape.
My ring glistens in the low light, the exact same shade as the crown. Side by side, it almost appears as if my ring was plucked from the larger piece.
As if they were a set.
It can’t be. Papa gave me this ring.
But … did he?
I found the gift box on my bedside table the morning I was leaving for college.
To remember where home is, the card read.
The note wasn’t signed. I always assumed it was from my father.
But what if it was left by someone else?
What if this piece of jewelry I’ve treasured all my life, the reminder of home, came from the hands of a werewolf?
What if that werewolf has wanted nothing more than for me to come back?
He was telling the truth.
All this time, I’ve meant something to him.
Not just my body. This is not a means of seduction. If it were, Manny would have used it to his advantage. But this ring wasa silent gift of love he never needed me to know about, only to have.
The pumpkin carving comes to my mind then, and the meaning behind the image is so obvious that I have to laugh.
The wolf covered it in blossoms and called itHome.
12
MANNY
“The thingyou most love about Folk Haven isme. I’mhome.”
Blossom’s snappish voice pulls a smile from my previously frowning mouth, and I lift my head, watching from my seat beneath an apple tree as the wood witch appears from the forest, striding toward me with the pumpkin crown still sitting snug on her head.
