He still got kicked out of my bedroom at the end of the day.
I had boundaries—and very little trust in either of them.
???
The wolf raced out the door as soon as I opened it. I still didn’t know his name, since the idiot had never deemed it necessary to tell me. I chuckled as he tore from one end of the garden to the other like a playful puppy, clearly trying to goad me into playing.
You like him, Bouda murmured.
Mmm. He’s cute when he’s a normal-sized wolf. Have you ever known anything like him?
Only whispers. They were never confirmed.
I stepped outside, lifting my face to the warmth of the sunshine. The breeze was perfect against the afternoon heat.
What kind of whispers?I asked, rooting around the foliage until I found a thick branch.
Some magical animals were sired by gods or monsters. Sometimes both. Legends and folklore were never written down—we carried the stories through our people.
So I guess sometimes they might be twisted or exaggerated, I said, tossing the stick into the air and watching the wolf catch it with ease.
He trotted back like a show horse, all proud of himself. He dropped the wet stick at my feet, then edged back again.
Waiting. Watching.
Is this what you do?I teased Bouda.
Certainly not. We play in water and wrestle.
So dignified. So these magical creatures have different features?
Some were giants in their time. Or so the tales said.
I threw the stick again, wondering if that was the case with the wolf—considering he’d expanded until his head had nearly hit the ceiling.
The problem was, I didn’t know what that meant for my child. Physically, I guessed it was fine… but did I need to worry about psycho genes?
He couldn’t have been a megalomaniac when he was born.
I watched the wolf as he dropped the stick at my feet. His tongue lolled out as he panted with excitement, eyes bright, before he edged backwards again—ready, waiting.
I gave him a stern look.
“You’d better not be an idiot like him, Wolf,” I said, pointing a finger at him.
He straightened and shook his head once, deliberate and decisive.
I blinked, momentarily speechless.
I suppose Bouda is intelligent—but she’s female. I never expected much from the wolf. His past actions had always been so… feral.
I crouched down in front of him, moving slowly as I rubbed my fingers along his jaw, careful, testing, until I reached the hollow beneath his ear.
He was warm—solid heat beneath thick fur—and exactly as dense as I’d imagined.
His head tilted into my hand.
His eyes slid shut.
