“Eventually—so you’re harder to stop even with bullets. And it scares me. Because Willow’s with you. It scares me so much.” She wrapped her arms around herself, seeming not to know she was doing it.
Ezra imagined himself cupping his hands around her vulnerability, her complex fears, her trust as she told him these things. He lowered his voice. “When a wolf is thirteen, he undergoes his first change under the moon, discovers he’s more than human.” Ezra allowed the smile to tug at his mouth. “It was the best day of my life to that point, finding out I was a wolf.”
Saffron sat listening, studying his face. When he paused, she nodded him on.
“There are so many lessons for a young wolf pup, because of everything you’ve said—our extra size and strength and resiliency. Our power. It’s important for a wolf to be raised right, and I was. My folks taught me well. One of the main lessons was ‘wolf strength under wolf restraint.’ I learned from a young pup to control my strength, to use it to protect. To put others above myself. Never to lash out physically in anger.”
“That’s the opposite of everything I’ve ever heard about lupines. Everything.”
“Well, whoever you heard it from, they don’t know us. They don’t know me.”
“My dad told me today he found real statistics on it, lupine anger and impulsivity leading to violence. And he said the person most likely to be hurt or killed in a lupine attack is their own, uh, mate.”
Pain drove through Ezra’s chest, and he flinched. His eyes squeezed shut. Saffron gave a quiet gasp, and then Willow’s arm was around him, her other hand holding his.
“I can’t believe you repeated that,” Willow said. “It’s like you’re deliberately not learning anything.”
“I didn’t know it would hurt him.”
“Really? You know what, forget this. I think we should go.”
“No,” Ezra said and opened his eyes. “No, Wil. This is important. For all three of us. This, here and now, talking like this.”
“It shouldn’t be on you to put up with—”
“I’m here for a reason. So are you, and so is Saffron. This matters, and no one’s leaving.”
Saffron scooted all the way forward on the bench and held eye contact with him, of course unaware of his shield. Quietly she said, “Willow’s not wrong. Everything my dad and his buddies say about lu—about wolves, I’m just now wondering if they have any clue what they’re talking about. I’m sorry I never wondered before.”
Ezra pressed his hands to the table, palms flat. “I promise you on my honor as a wolf, I will never use my strength against Willow.”
“I believe you,” she said.
They were quiet for a long time. Ezra focused on his food, and soon Saffron and Willow began eating too, alternating between the nachos and their meals. They each began to relax, but surely Saffron hadn’t asked all her questions.
“Anything else?” he said at last.
Saffron’s hand paused halfway to her mouth, and a loaded nacho chip dripped cheese onto her plate. “I thought we were done. I thought I ruined it.”
“No,” he said. “Go ahead.”
“Well, some of my questions are probably stupid.” She blushed, her scent growing sharp with nerves again. “But like…the silver thing, thatisa myth, right?”
Beside him Willow tensed. She recognized the vulnerability Ezra offered if he answered, but it was all right. Most people knew this to be a myth. He squeezed her hand under the table, and this time she held on.
“It’s a myth,” he said. “Nothing magical about silver. You’re right that it’s tough to end a wolf with violence, though. We survive way past human resilience, even when we appear to be dying or dead.”
Saffron nodded slowly. She was listening. After another few bites, she said, “Okay, holy water and garlic and wooden stakes are for vampires…and I think those are myths too.”
“I can’t speak for them.” And did not want to. Stupid vampires, always popping up. At art fairs, in conversations.
“Oh, can you smell moods?”
“Yeah, that one’s true.”
Her eyes widened. “Well, crap.”
“Just don’t lie to me, and we’ll get along great.”
