what to do. Then the huntsman appeared and convinced the wolf that Adria would think he’d killed her and the only way to save himself and their love was to eat up the grandmother’s body. The wolf did just that, except the poison in the grandmother’s blood got to him too, so soon he was asleep on her bed, full and sick.
“When Adria arrived, she saw the wolf and didn’t know what to make of her missing grandmother, and then the huntsman appeared again and told her that the wolf’s bloodlust was too great and he had eaten her grandmother alive. He proved it by cutting open the wolf’s stomach and showing Adria the remains of her grandmother. Adria despaired, her heart broken, and she told the huntsman to do with the wolf what he wished, and ran out of the house. The huntsman took out the grandmother’s body and just in case the wolf survived, replaced it with heavy stones before sewing him up again.”
“How the hell could he do that without killing him?” Alex asked. I shot him a look that clearly told him to shut up.
Wolf frowned at him. “Huntsmen are very skilled with their knives and needles. Don’t tell me you’ve never kept a trophy for yourself.”
Alex’s face colored and he mumbled something about not doing it himself.
“When the wolf finally awoke,” Wolf said, getting back to the story, “he could barely drag himself from the home. He didn’t know where Adria or the huntsman was; he didn’t know what had happened. He could hardly even walk. Because of the stones in his stomach he couldn’t eat, and wandered the forest in confusion for many days. The huntsman had comforted and wooed Adria until she finally consented to marry him. Most of us like to think that she never forgot the wolf. Even if she did, she was reminded of him again when he dragged himself to the castle, and died by the walls of starvation.”
“Oh my God,” I said. “That is awful.” And it certainly was the polar opposite of the story I knew.
Wolf shook his head as if to clear out the story. “That’s why the House of Hood sits on the throne now. Well, not the full line at least. The man in control of the kingdom is just a steward, a far distant cousin to the House of Hood. We all hope for the days of Red to come again. Those were less harsh times.” He stooped, picked up a stick, threw it. “She may have thought he ate her grandmother, but she still had a soft heart for the rest of us.”
“There’s no one left from the House of Red?” I asked.
Wolf shrugged. “There may be a distant relative somewhere, but the name has probably been lost. The House of Red has always controlled the Kingdom, which is why the House of Hood can never have the full title.”
Suddenly a light bulb clicked on in my brain. I glanced down at Marianne. Was that why her parents were taking her to the castle to be safe? Because she was descended from the Red line? And the House of Hood—was that who wanted her? Except that didn’t make sense. Why would the House of Hood charge wolves to go after her? Weren’t they charged with exterminating wolves?
I shook my head. No. Whoever wanted Marianne wasn’t from the House of Hood. Wolf had kept saying, “She” so it was a woman. But then why would wolves come after Marianne if she were destined to make their lives better? If that’s how it worked, anyway.
We continued our hike along the path, the birds above us chirping merrily in the sunshine. As if I weren’t walking with a potential future queen or a half-wolf or my step brother dressed as a wolf-killer. The whole idea almost made me want to laugh. But as we kept going, Wolf seemed to grow twitchy. His gaze darted around. He made occasional exasperated huffing sounds. He jiggled the foot with the band around it. A creepy magical sensation crept up my neck before disappearing.
“Is something wrong?” I asked. I didn’t like it when his collar did random magical things. I also kept forgetting to ask him about it.
“No,” he said quickly. “No, no. Just…anxious. After all, I doubt Miss Marianne’s parents will be pleased to meet a half-wolf.”
“We don’t have to tell them what you are. Act normal and don’t go flashing your eyes or your teeth and we’ll