The wolf licked its snout. “How are you talking to me?”
Sighing, Lilac gave into her wobbly knees and knelt on the cold stones. Now at eye level with the animal but a safe distance away, she began to realize what must be before her—the wolf wasn’t a wild wolf at all, but a shapeshifter in beast form.
Her pulse jumped erratically. All her life, she’d been taught by her parents and tutors that no Darkling could safely be trusted. That shapeshifters were such ravenous tricksters and scavengers, that they would unthinkingly kill a human on the spot. Yet, she was in the middle of having a conversation with one. One who seemed afraid more than anything. Lilac swallowed her terror like a thick spoonful of honey, heart thumping in fearful fascination.
“You didn’t attack me. And that’s not an invitation,” she added hastily.
“No. I… I’m here to take care of business.”
Lilac warily glanced at the burlap sack laying on the floor between them. “May I?”
The wolf took a hesitant half step forward as if to stop her, but Lilac was quicker. Inside the bag, a large slab of cured pork, three baguettes, and a pile of discarded chicken bones from dinner all jostled together. She dropped the sack and confusedly rubbed her brows with one hand, holding the torch in the other.
“I don’t understand.”
“Ma’am, I wanted to feed my children. That’s all.” Its voice wavered slightly. “My sons, they haven’t eaten in a few days. Please don’t say a word. I’ll give it back, you can take it. Please just let me go so I can get home to my babies.”
Lilac frowned. “Don’t you eat… rabbits? Or like, squirrels? Can’t you?”
The wolf coughed. It might’ve been a chuckle. “Well, I do. I’m trying to get my babies used to eating… hunted food, though I haven’t had much luck. Their guilt gets in the way, and they feel bad for the bunnies.”
At that, Lilac placed the torch in the rung above the hearth stove and took the sack. She went to the meat hooks and removed three more slabs, two lamb and one beef, dropping them one by one into the bag. Then, she turned to the counter on her right and used her hands to break off a portion of a cheese wheel off, dropping that into the bag as well.
Her mind was as busy as her hands, if not more. Her parents had always allowed the castle leftovers to be left for the Darklings. Was it not enough? If the shapeshifter was forced to risk everything by sneaking into the castle for food, how many others were suffering, too? Whatever responsibility her parents brushed off, Lilac was determined to take into her own small hands. Even the castle horses ate as well as she did.
So, why not the Darklings? Or at least the good ones, especially one as kind as this? How happy its family would be with this little haul.
“You take this,” she said under her breath to the wolf, who’d begun trembling. The animal’s amber eyes shone like wary embers in the wind, dancing in the flicker of torchlight across the room. “Please take this for yourself, for your family. For anyone it will feed.” She paused to listen—no sounds yet—then nodded decisively. “I’ll open the castle door, and if anyone asks, I’ll tell them I wanted to get some fresh air. You’ll have to run as fast as you can.”
“N-n-no, I can’t,” the wolf protested dubiously, eyes darting from Lilac to the bag in her hand. “I can’t. Please just let me go.”
The shapeshifter didn’t trust her, but she couldn’t dwell on it now—they’d have to hurry if they wanted to avoid being discovered.
Another idea suddenly occurred to Lilac. “Can you transform back? Into your human self? I’ll get you some clothes! Um…” Lilac wrung her hands on the neck of the sack. “Are you a girl?”
The wolf sat down. “Sweet girl, I am. My name is Freya. And if I turn back right now, I won’t have any clothes on at all, I’m afraid. I’m not sure which would frighten a witness more, a wolf or an unclothed woman.”
“J’y crois pas!!”
Lilac jumped up so fast she saw purple spots. The room was suddenly illuminated with firelight—her parents stood in in the doorway, a tearful Piper standing between them. The queen held her by the elbow, gripped her arm so tight that her nails dug into the girl’s skin. Lilac refused to look at their faces,