In the meantime, my looking like a biker fantasy is only going to help Ty’s case. Because a biker fantasy is exactly the kind of independent woman wolves like to chase and then don’t know what to do with. So, being males, they put her in a cage and convince her that she should be embarrassed that she’s exactly who she always was. That being: exactly who they wanted.
My mother, for example. A female less suited to motherhood and nurturing, I can’t imagine. Johanna was made to be powerful, so she took her power where she could find it, forever having to listen tolectures on her femininity from men who were just pissed she wouldn’t mate with them.
If everything goes according to plan, I think as I look at myself and the little illustration I’ve created for tonight, we might get to work dismantling those cages too.
Since I’m here at Winter’s place, I head to the kitchen and let myself in. I nod at Winter over by her coffee machine and Briar sitting at the table. With, as usual, a gigantic bowl of sugary cereal.
“Where do you get that?” I ask her, looking at the bright red box with a frog on it. “That’s some next-level black-market shit. I haven’t seen any cereal for sale anywhere since before the Reveal, and you know no one’s actuallymaking itanymore.”
“I have a dealer,” Briar says, and then she smiles at me. “First thing I did after the Reveal was secure the sugar cereal.”
I laugh at that, while also being pretty sure that’s the longest sentence she’s ever said to me. Certainly the longest pleasant one, anyway. There’s still not the slightest whiff of magic or power around her, though I do notice the silver chain of a necklace peeking out of her typical black band T-shirt. I eye it out of curiosity because I’m sure I’ve seen it before ... but it’s not like I know jewelry. A chain is a chain.
“I hear that,” Winter is saying, bringing me back to black-market cereal. And dealers. “We didn’t have any coffee for at least the first three months after the Reveal. It was brutal. I vowed, once things eased a little bit and it was possible to get supplies, that I would never be without coffee again. No matter what it took.” She inhales the scent of the coffee she’s making herself. “And I have kept that promise.”
Briar smiles even wider at that, and I realize this is the most smiling I’ve seen her do, too. I like it. It makes me feel like this friendship deal is on the right track, and that means that if Vinca is coming for her, we’ll be right here and ready to give the death bitch something else to worry about. I like that even more.
Also I just like this girl in her beanie and her goth clothes and a smile over contraband necessities in these dark times.
“You get it,” Briar says to Winter. She doesn’t even sound awkward.
Everyone goes back to not speaking, and when my pulse kicks at me a little, I’m sure I’m having solstice nerves. And, you know, major wolf-pack revolution nerves.
Or maybe missing-all-this-in-advance nerves, too.
We’re all together in the quiet, and I know I’m going to miss the comfort of this, too. In the den, someone’s always speaking. There are arguments in the tunnels. There are always couples getting frisky in the alcoves. Someone’s always talking, someone’s probably singing, cubs are always roughhousing. There’s no avoiding interaction. Even in the grand cavern, which has a huge kitchen at the back where we can all go and prepare food as we like if we’re not sharing a meal, you can never avoid someone else’s presence. Which almost always comes with some noise.
Wolves are not shy and retiring.
Once again, I tell myself that the things I’m giving up are worth losing, because Ty is the major benefit on the other end. EspeciallythisTy, who has grown as much as I have over the years, since he’s now clearly as sick of the systems we live in as I am. I’m not sure he was ten years ago. Five years ago.
But he is now.
I can handle a cave if it means I can make my life what I want it to be. If I can makeourlife what it ought to be. It seems like a fair trade.
Winter goes over and sits at the table with her coffee. I busy myself flash-frying up one of my classic breakfasts, but by the time I transfer my pile of meat to the table, Briar is already storming out.
Winter and I sit there a moment or so, long after the echo of that slammed door has faded.
“She wassmiling,” Winter whispers, in a wondering sort of tone, but pitched low like she thinks Briar might be lurking outside the door. I can scent that she’s not. “How sweet was that?”
“No pun intended,” I reply.
She shakes her head at me. I grin.
I’m really going to miss this, but maybe that’s a good thing. You don’t miss the things that don’t matter.
Winter sips at her coffee. I eat.
“I went and saw Augie,” I tell her after a few bites. I glance at her just long enough to see something that looks like brightness in her eyes. That emotion I see so little of in her—and try so hard to hide in me. “He really is okay.”
Winter sits with that for a breath. Then another. “Do I want to know whatokaymeans in this situation?”
I wonder if she already knows. If she sees things she doesn’t want to see and wants me to confirm or deny them. I wouldn’t blame her.
“It means he’s alive,” I tell her. Steadily. “He’s alive, and while I would not describe him aswell, it could be worse. He has a long road ahead of him and a whole lot of battles to fight. No one else can fight them for him.”
“Meaning he needs to suffer through it,” Winter finishes. “When I can’t help thinking that he’s already suffered enough.”
