Wolf Sirens Dusk In Shade: The Wolves Rise at Sunset (Wolf Sirens #4)

Prologue: Hell on Earth

Things had gotten as ugly as they could. We were in a cage surrounded by circling sharks. It was small, cramped, and putrid. It was so low that we couldn’t stand. Soon, our muscles would become weak. I’m sure if it had been possible, Cresida would have taken her own life, though she seemed to be desperately trying to, as she wilted and withered before me like a tree starved of water and light.

Cres looked how I felt. No, not even as bad. She looked worse. I hoped the wolf blood would stop her from self-destructing or imploding before help arrived. She refused to eat and she barely moved. We were trapped. Cres was positioned under my legs, lying across the cement with her head down against the bars and her arm dangling out.

Sam came towards the bars of our gaol. I didn’t know where Sky or Reid were, but I knew I had seen Giny. I wondered with a stab of fear what Sam had done to her; what the pack had done to them.

Sam, other hunters will come for us, I hissed angrily through the bars. Giny will get a message out.

Sam reeled. Giny? Ha. Nonsense! She smacked her lips and sighed. They haven’t come and they won’t. She paused and narrowed her eyes in thought. Who do you think warned us about your little army? She tilted her head, waiting for my reply as her white hair fell over her shoulder.

You can’t keep us here forever, I protested emotionlessly, wondering if the others were all dead, while trying to hide the shock at the possibility that Gin had betrayed us. It couldn’t be true.

She leant in, as I held my game face.

I can’t let you out. How can we live in fear? She was taunting us, enjoying my pain, as I realized it was true. I felt the remaining colour in my cheeks drain away, but I hadn’t lost the will to fight. I liked to hear her say she feared us; that was all I had and I savoured it. Bravely, I glared back. I knew soon, Cres would wither away into a sleep she would never wake from. Surely I would be tortured and bitten or starved as well.

Things weren’t exactly looking up, but I wouldn’t let it break me – not yet. I didn’t know where Sky was, or if he was alive. Why hadn’t Reid come inside the house during the fight? Who had lived? We were barely alive.

Sam turned and switched off the light. The door latched closed as my heart beat desperately. I knew in the darkness I dare not ask what had become of them as I turned to other thoughts.

My mind began to reel. The pieces fitted. Giny, it had been Giny. I felt a terrible, blood-draining feeling drag like a mudslide into the pit of my stomach. It was Giny, a little human who had undone us, and we had laughed at her. Why, for all my common sense, hadn’t I taken her aside? Why had I smiled when Jackson made fun of her wish? I knew better — I knew the longing — but how could she, how could she side with them? How could she watch us be slaughtered, beaten, and caged?

I feared the worst for the rest of our side and I gasped back tears that pushed their way out regardless, through swollen eyes. When Giny was turned, she would be a miserable creature and I hoped she got her wish because given the chance, I would be the first to extinguish her.

Tisane knew it wasn’t a good idea, she knew Angele wasn’t a concern. I thought then with regret, maybe if she had met Giny, she would have sensed her betrayal. But regret is a useless emotion. Nothing changes the past, not sorrow or remorse… nothing brings back the dead and I would live a thousand years without Sky if it meant we could go back to when C.J. was alive…

The swelling Artemis rises higher. Sheeting rain beats on her stone face like tears. The hairline flaws over the eroded stone goddess begin to fissure. Parts of the statue start to crack and break away, disappearing into the dark water.

Hours later, Sam unbolted the door. I awoke with a jolt as she came in alone with a plate of food.

I tried to make a deal. We are prepared to make a treaty, I offered through the bars, as though I had cards to play.

Ha, she scoffed. What gives you the right? Why is our kind any less important than yours? She looked at us, a snarl on her lips. Huh? Her eyes lit up hungrily.

I looked away. You can’t keep us here for—

She cut me off, raising her voice over mine. This time I decide what is just. Sam turned to walk away through the low doorway.

Pathetically, I called after her. We would rather die than live like this. My voice became breathy at the end, evidence of weakness.

She turned the full strength of her flecked glare on me through the welded bars, and for several moments she glared at me. Bravely, I met her cold stare.

Then we will make you immortal, she said slow and hard, in a voice thick with hatred. She turned and I heard her mutter, I’ll finish what I started.

I raised my voice. More will come to replace us. Her sore point as the door was bolted shut.

I hated that, goddamn it. Somewhere inside me I wished she’d bite me, finish it. But how could I go on after this night? I knew before long Cres, would fade — and that it was likely I would follow, whether I wanted to or not. I thought about C.J. as gut wrenching grief welled up inside me and I gasped tears. I didn’t want to believe she was dead and at the same time, I knew painstakingly she was gone.

Muffled sobs escaped my body. I thought about her brother and her parents with an ache in my guts. I let her down, I let her die, I let them murder a child...she was gone because of me. I clung to the bars, weeping through swollen eyes. I didn’t deserve anything and my only solace was we would all be with her soon. There was no one to save us. I was shattered, but it wasn’t as easy as all that. The wolves were now ruled by Samantha again, and she wasn’t in any hurry to put us out of our misery.

1. Farm Boys

Tree-covered peaks shrouded in a swiftly moving blanket of clouds rose out of the shadowy valley against a midnight blue sky. Lichen cloaked the trees which swept to meet the fields below. The wind shifted to the singing of crickets. Grey deer grazing the flush of vegetation on the open plain raised their heads to the distant whirr of an engine and fled from sight.

Nearby, headlights shone as a large man rode a quad bike casually over a mud road between barbed fences.

Mead had made a late start. He was headed to round up the cows for milking as the cloud-covered stars faded. The full moon was still a big orb glowing in the sky overhead, like torchlight. Then from a distance through bleary eyes, Mead spotted the carnage in the dim light. He stood, slowing the accelerator. His eyes fixed ahead — something wasn’t right.

The view of the back paddock was littered with cows. He quickly sat back on the bike and twisted the accelerator, speeding up through puddles that splashed him with mud. The headlights illuminated the scene — the few cows left standing had escaped into other paddocks and were covered in bloody gashes. Wounded and distressed, they gathered helplessly in a corner of the paddock. He stopped abruptly and jumped off the quad, leaving the engine running. His uncle’s chocolate kelpie ran ahead, barking. Mead stilled, unable to believe what he saw; he observed torn flesh hanging from a standing heifer. He approached the fence and opened the gate.

As he got closer he could see the three-line lacerations in the flesh of the remaining herd. Wolves. Other cows tangled in the fence, one was still struggling with a wild stare in its eyes. Some were trampled. Torn and eaten carcasses lay spread over the paddock.

Mead rubbed his eyes with his hands and scrubbed his stubble with dry knuckles. Maybe it had finally happened. His brain couldn’t handle his cousin’s weed anymore. Last night’s batch was more intense than he had anticipated. He had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He instantly regretted having quit smoking cigarettes as he reached for his mobile phone with an unsteady hand.

2. Hell Hole

Giny – I would destroy her.

I dreamt of a hand emerging, springing deathly pale and rigid from the dark earth. I jolted awake in pitch darkness, to an unforgiving reality in a heartless world. Dreams of the wolves plagued me, but no nightmare was worse than existing day by day in the place C.J had died. Shock consumed me. Her family would never see her again. I awoke from nightmares often hearing her call my name.

Clammy, I rolled over to see C.J lying beside me, staring into my face. A trickle of dark blood ran over her eggshell blue face, down her forehead as her dark eyes stared blankly into mine.

Oi! she shouted. I jerked awake to find myself on the hard cement; my icy fingers touched the gritty cold floor of the cage — a worse reality than any nightmare.

Panicky, I reached over for Cres. She barely moved at all. I worried that she would die at any moment next to me and I couldn’t bear it. The thought that I would wake to find her dead was worse than anything I had known.

Tears pricked at my eyes. I hoped she hadn’t died in her sleep. It was a terror worse than anything. I pulled her close. I couldn’t lose her, too. My eyes adjusted to see a plate outside the cage, within reach, and my tears turned to anger. I didn’t know when it had been left; it could have been hours ago. I was losing sense of things like time.

Dehydrated, my dry mouth ached for water. I stroked Cresida’s hair and then shuffled over to the food. Stretching to press my face into the cold bars I pulled the plate closer with my dirty nails. I scooped up some of the gluggy lukewarm mash with my bare hand and I moved to Cres, holding it to her thin lips. It smelt of garlic.

This was no way to treat any creature. I knew as she slowly chewed the slop from my fingers that I would do or say anything to get her out of here. Sam had what she wanted.

C.J was so young. The pain welled inside me every time I woke for too long in the hell hole that had become our existence. In the dimness I poked the remnants of cold mixed potato slurry that had dried on the pate. C.J was gone because of me. I went over my stupid plan a thousand times. I cried tears I didn’t deserve to cry from sore swollen eyes.

Cres was all I had left. In a pit of loneliness, I pressed against her to keep her warm, to make sure she stayed with me. I would never forgive myself for Caroline’s death. An ache consumed me.

I realised Sam was there in the doorway.

Ironic how you nurse her like she is your grandmother, when really by law you are supposed to kill your kind when they are turned. She came closer and knelt to meet me at eye level. I saw a fine gold necklace around her neck, strung with a little sun charm which gleamed below the deathly pale hollow of her neck. She huffed. I never expected her to live as long as she has. She looked down and batted her lids. Since I bit her, she clarified. Her thin lips set in a slight sneer.

Lila, I don’t want to keep you here like animals. Her eyes flickered at me through the bars. I hated her condescending manner. In fact I think we have so much in common, I know we both want what is best for our kind, she insisted in cloying tones.

What would you know about being kind? I grunted, emotionlessly.

She didn’t laugh, her look simply intensified on her clean milky-white face. Tell me, do you want to be turned? Her brows rose and fell. Say you do, that some tiny part of you wants to be like us. There is no one to stop it now. You can be our kind, if that’s what will take away all this...suffering.

I stared at her blankly. The icy lustre of her eyes moved like liquid water, glowing in the dimness. What was she playing at? Do you have nothing better to do than torture us? My voice wasn’t my own, it was rough and ghostly.

You want to be one of us? she insisted and I noted that look in her eyes, the stare that meant she expected my compliance.

You want me to say that I do, don’t you? I hissed back. I knew I had to comply, it was my only hope.

Lila, I am offering you a solution and Sky. Isn’t that what you want? It’s what you want, what you need and it will be so easy...

Yes, bite me, do it now. I shuffled to the edge of the cage and when I was close I turned my head sideways offering my neck through the bars. Slowly I dared to look deep into her black polished stone pupils. Her irises glimmered as she neared. Don’t try this shit on me, Sam. You know it doesn’t work. I spat saliva. It was a pitiful spray, but I was near enough to hit her face satisfactorily.

She was more shocked than I had hoped. She winced but then I saw the anger and despite myself I’m sure my face gave way to fear of her wrath as I cowered a little.

She turned away to wipe her porcelain face, barely remaining composed but her next words were too calm and cold to let me feel relieved that I wasn’t dead. She gave a disdainful smile. It only doesn’t work because you choose not to let it. Her mouth sneered to show her teeth, but she moved to leave. She had been trying to make me fall under her spell. I believed in that moment that she would never turn me, despite what she said, because I wanted it too much.

Before she closed the door to the stairs she stopped and as her shadow cast over me she commented more smoothly, I think soon you will be more cooperative... Cooperative to my requests. Her voice was feathery and deliberate as her piercing eyes swept over me.

The door closed, sucking the air from the room, leaving us in darkness and uncertainty. I pulled my body to the back of the cage and leant against the bars, my knees drawn up to my chin. I was scared she was right.

I felt a cold devastation seep through me as I wrapped my arms around my legs in the blackness. Shadows began to fill me up, running like icy hands over my shoulders, creeping into me and running slowly through my blood, filling my heart with a chill of bleakness.

Something told me if I ever wanted to get out of this hole I might be smart to ‘cooperate’.

3. Charmed

The absence of Lila and C.J hurt. Cresida and Lila were trapped at the Cult pack house. Tisane, Sky, Reid and Aylish made plans for their rescue.

Tisane stood in her house and stared at Aylish with anticipation. She hesitantly took the jewellery in her thin hands and examined the silver charms that were linked in the bracelet. Tisane had crafted it into a necklace with pieces she sourced from her work table. She felt the urgency of what needed to be done and as she fastened it around Aylish’s petite human neck her fingers were more clumsy than usual.

I hope I don’t lose it, Aylish worried aloud, touching her hand to the silver chain.

I’ve fixed it with elastic threaded through the chain loops, Tisane assured her. It should stay on during the change. Just test it first for size. She moved to open the door to the veranda, ushering Aylish outside. Reid put down the paper he was scanning and turned to watch.

Once outside, Aylish gave a cautionary glance around. She pulled out her ponytail and removed her strappy borrowed dress by tightening up her shoulders as her curly blonde hair unfurled. She began to tremble until her pale flesh morphed; the dress fell at her feet and she burst into a fine boned white wolf with soft grey tinged paws.

Tisane glanced at Reid who was watching from the doorway. Aylish cowered on four legs when Tisane stepped towards her, staring into her blue canine eyes unsurely, pausing until Aylish stilled. Tisane timidly touched the chain, tugging the elastic gently around the wolf’s ginger-creased fur with the tips of her chewed fingernails. Aylish licked her hand, and swished her tail.

It’s a good fit, she assured the beautiful creature, pleased. She resisted the urge to stroke her powdery coat. But Aylish nudged her and Tisane turned to see Sky lingering, anxiously. He watched as she patted the wolf, smiling a little. She met his eyes with reassurance, wiping Aylish’s wet saliva onto her skirt.

Reid could be heard exiting the back as the door slammed. Tisane’s tentative smile left her lips.

Tisane and Sky watched from the cabin nestled against the forest long after Aylish disappeared, nimbly navigating the trees like a ghost dissolving into the landscape. Eventually they wandered back inside the house. Tisane briefly considered what to do until her thoughts were broken.

You’ll have to help me. Sky sent her a serious look.

She looked questioningly at him but before she could think how to reply, he said, During the fight I was hit by a stray bullet to the ribs. He tilted his head in gesture toward the wound. It’s lodged in my torso. I think it’s probably a good idea to remove it at some point. He raised his brows and then lifted his shirt. Although there seemed to be no mark on his smooth skin, she immediately understood.

He held his shirt on his arms in front of him as she stepped forward.

There was a small change to the set of her mouth. Healed, she uttered more for her own clarification than anything else. She pressed the smooth thick skin of his back to feel the bullet. It was completely sealed in.

Yeah, could you...? he suggested hopefully. I would do it myself but it’s hard to reach.

She swallowed, understanding. I could try. She gritted her teeth and tried not to look scared.

Sky’s eyes lingered on hers. Reid could try, but let’s just say he isn’t the gentle type. He was right. If she wasn’t so nervous she might have smiled.

Will it hurt? Her body tensed at the thought.

Yeah, Sky shrugged, though not as bad as being shot. He gave a huff under his breath.

Tell me what to do? She leant closer and narrowed her eyes at the area.

His tan skin gleamed below her fingertips. She pressed the ripples of his rib cage with a squeamish expression. Twisting around his body to reach, he guided her hand, pressing the spot. She felt the bullet as his warm hand left hers.

Find it and cut it out, he asked. As he turned back the flesh was less taught and the bullet was buried in his muscle again.

Tisane lifted her eyes. I’ll need to get a few medicines, some alcohol. She went towards the dresser.

Suit yourself but it’s not necessary. He breathed a sigh as he pulled his shirt from his arms and placed it on the back of a chair. We don’t get infections but do it the way you feel most comfortable. Satisfied, he sat on the table, his wide shoulders slumped.

In the pantry Tisane pulled out a few glass bottles, one for herself, one for Sky and one for the impending wound.

You’re lucky it didn’t puncture your lung, she remarked to the contents of the pantry, though it occurred to her that perhaps it wouldn’t have mattered.

Maybe it was a reminder of my mortality, he joked pessimistically.

Tisane emerged and put the bottles on the bench and then assuming he would still bleed she went and got a bath towel and a hand towel from the hall cupboard for the blood.

The athame in the dresser was clean and sharp; she touched the tip. Sky waited patiently.

She laid the towel down by him.

Lie face down.

Sky attempted to do so, when Tisane realised the bullet’s location, she stopped.

Roll to your side. She placed a guiding hand on his shoulder.

Sky positioned himself without a word.

It’s cold, she warned. She used a cotton ball to spread some alcohol on his tanned skin in the area that she was to incise and then she felt for the bullet.

Tense and a little shaky she pressed the knife to his flesh. She applied pressure and all too easily bright red blood began to trickle.

Sky paused, obviously feeling the burn of the cut. What did you do before? As a job?

I was a jewellery store assistant, she replied absently. She realised that she would need tweezers.

Not anymore?

She turned and pulled out a first aid kit as the wound bled. Her lips twitched. I was dissatisfied with my profession. By the time she returned the wound had begun to heal from the inside out and was shallower than she had left it. She panicked for a moment and then steadied her hand.

With a grimace she once again carved the blade through his muscle. Then my mother died, she added.

This was her place? Sky looked around.

Yes.

You like to read? he asked staring ahead at some books on the furniture.

Tisane eyed her Grimoire. She knew the moon, her mother had taught her about the lunar phase and the legends, the solstice and the equinox. Tormey had prepared her for the world she now found herself in.

Yes. She gripped the handle more firmly and thrust the knife deeper until she felt the hard bullet clank against the blade. I was never allowed in the woods or to see blood. Quickly she dug and clasped it with the tweezers as more blood oozed from the incision. She saw the gold tint mixed through the serum as she dropped the bullet it rolled in a semicircle on the table. She stared at the bullet for a moment in disbelief.

Does it hurt? she asked as she reached for a hand towel, feeling pleased.

No, it burns a fair bit, but I can feel it closing up. He reached to hold it. There would be no scar. Three inches higher... He eased up.

Tisane took a deep breath. Would it have killed you? she enquired with a considered stare as she dried her hands. Her mouth was dry.

Only a blow to the heart or the head can cause enough damage to kill us. So Lila had said.

Tisane swallowed to moisten her mouth, and blinked nervously You have been injured though? She cleaned the knife, vigorously, recalling Lila’s concern over his back.

Yes my spine was damaged in a fight. He held the hand towel to the cut awkwardly. They were not as indestructible as they seemed to be.

He looked thoughtful as he looked down at the wound and his face twitched. Do you think Aylish will get her out?

Tisane went over to the sink and washed her hands. I hope so. Her voice was feathery.

Sky picked up the blood-coated bullet as he sat on the table edge. This could have ended it all, he said behind her. Tisane steadied herself at the sink, her summoned momentary bravery gone. Feeling queasy she clutched her eyes closed a moment. Her eye lashes were wet when she opened them. The sight of blood made her sick.

She turned after Sky spoke; he looked back over at her. She saw that he squeezed the bullet between his fingers.

You were lucky. She rubbed her hands dry on a towel. The gods must still have a plan for you. It’s a good luck charm. A tight smile rose across her lips and faded as she dried her hands, contemplatively.

Sky let down his hand, his face more troubled again. How old are you Tisane?

The question caught her off guard. She glanced at him as he waited for the answer.

I’m in my thirties.

You look younger.

Tisane felt a smile move her lips. Lila had said something similar. Good genetics. She picked up the kettle and put it on the stove.

No partner?

Tisane answered over her shoulder. No, there was, a long time ago. There had been a few; her voice was quiet. One, special boy, but that had been long ago – in high school...

Well I guess that explains it then. He eased off the table.

What? She felt her cheeks prick with blood.

He raised his brows. How you seem so knowledgeable about things. He smiled slightly. She watched as he pulled on his shirt, as though the wound no longer hurt’ it had probably sealed already. It took me a few decades or more to get my head on straight.

She tried to smile. Yeah. Tisane was used to the fact that nothing about her was typical. She noticed the bullet still in his fingers. Here, I’ll wash it.

Sky frowned but seeing she was determined he gave it to her with his head cocked to the side.

She rinsed it under the tap and sat the wet bullet on the window sill and for a moment she gazed out into the forest. She wondered what was going on out there.

Aylish will contact us soon, she said.

Now they had nothing to do but wait.

4. Overpower or Outsmart

The moon gazed down, still and shaded like the apathetic eye of a wolf in the night sky. During the last eclipse Tisane remembered that she had said a prayer for help. Every year when the moon was waxing at its fullest Tormey had kept an extra vigilant eye over her, she remembered with fondness. But this year was different because the moon would be closer to earth than ever before. She took in the sight of the moon through the window with wide eyes as though she was a child still.

Tisane had pored over the browning pages of her grandmother’s Grimoire, re-reading the story of The Last Satyrs. There would be two. She thought with concern that the prophecy in the old book wouldn’t come true.

It was the rainy season, the thunder roared and the rain fell fast and heavy, tapping the window pane. Then a deluge began to drive the river higher. Those in the lowlands became flooded again. The emerald fields were awash and the tawny mud-stained rapids coursed higher, as the rushing Artemis swelled with a power she had previously withheld.

There was less than a month before the full moon would drive the wolves mad; the way it did in her grandmother’s tales when Apollo’s child would rise to power, inciting a different breed of wolf to emerge and end the curse, in his favour.

The world was wide with possibilities again.

She had seen the signs. The air was unmistakably warmer, the forest dense with growth. The Hades Lilies were spreading down from the mountains in pockets of bushland — further down into the Valley than she had ever seen. Above, the bromeliads now hung from the canopy, draping branches like green icicles. Tisane knew the veins of the supernatural world were approaching, closer every day. Soon Shade would be in a deep dream that she would not wake from.

In the early hours of the morning, as always, Tisane rose before the sun had risen in the clouded sky and crept about in the kitchen, acutely aware of her sleeping guests. Water dripped dully from the ceiling into a pot on the lounge room floor as she crept past, barefoot. She loaded wood into the stove and lit a fire with a match, newspaper and kindling. She warned her fingers over it and then busied herself with breakfast.

The guys were sleeping in Lila’s bedroom, Reid was snoring.

Tisane mixed a pancake batter, listening to the sizzle and crackle of the stove, as a moth battered itself against the kitchen window, attracted to the light. When she was a child Tormey would have helped her stir the mix.

She worried about the prophecy. She had tossed and turned all night, unable to escape the feeling of being crowded in her sleep, plagued by constant dreams. Her hair was a puffy mess today, frizzing in the humidity. She had tried to clip it back, unsuccessfully. When she was young her grandmother had done her hair.

She was caramelizing apples in sugar and butter as the sun lifted in an overcast sky. Unable to concentrate, she found herself haunted, amongst other things, by the knowledge that the father she had never known had been out there — her whole life —all that time he had been alive.

Her thoughts were broken by somebody stirring in the other room. She heard one of the men approaching barefoot in the main living area as she shifted the pan from the stove and turned.

I’m sorry I woke you, Tisane said in a hushed voice, pulling glasses from the cupboard.

No, I barely sleep long, as it is, Sky replied from the lounge, stretching his long tanned arms behind his body. She was reminded that the cut was completely healed. But he looked far from rested. The thought of Lila had made it difficult to sleep.

Are you worried about her? she asked, carefully setting a tray laden with three glasses on the table.

He took a breath. I’m always worried about her, he admitted.

Tisane understood his worry. She’s alive. She looked up, I believe she is, she assured him in a husky voice that wasn’t her own.

He met her tired eyes, his own despondent. I know she is in that cage.

Sky, she’s alive. Aylish will help you get her out. Tisane’s assurance surprised even her. She closed her lips tightly before disappearing into the pantry.

I’m worried it will it break her, Tisane.

She returned after a few moments holding a dark bottle and pulled open a drawer. He seemed to drift into his own thoughts as she poured the brown liquid into a spoon. Here.

He understood, rising and slowly walking over. She lifted it, expecting him to take the spoon but instead he assisted her hand to his mouth. Despite herself she blushed, meeting his blue eyes. He swallowed as she guided the spoon from his mouth with a clank over his teeth and she felt her breath become shallow as she turned to the sink, dropping the spoon. Then she focused her attention on the stove, averting her gaze. Sky was attractive. She tucked her hair behind her ear, recalling her task. It had been too long perhaps between boyfriends.

Can you get the butter out, it’s in the fridge. A task would keep his mind off things.

The clean gold bullet pulled from his back sat on the window sill, gleaming bright in the breaking sunlight.

So, uh, what was it? he asked distractedly, obviously tasting the bitter flavour on his tongue as he opened the fridge door, peering into the contents.

What? she asked turning with the apples too quickly and spilling some of the molten toffee, so that it splashed and sizzled on the stove. Oh, shit! Tisane knew she had burnt her skin.

Sky closed the fridge. Do you need help? His face pinched a little.

No, no I’ve got it. She set the pan on the sink with a clang and stood with her back to him. What was the question? She winced. Her shoulders were raised as she clasped her hand with a grimace. Tormey should have spent more time than just during the Perigree moon to teach her to cook.

He was distracted as he placed the butter beside her. Huh, oh the medicine, dare I ask? With a glance Tisane saw a self-deprecating white smile appear and fade, exposing perfectly knit teeth.

Oh, she turned away. Some Extract of Chamomile. It will help you sleep; it’s good for settling anxiety. She smiled as she concentrated on rinsing her hand under the running tap. She thought she may need the Chamomile in a moment for the burn.

So it won’t poison me? he joked. He shifted to see what she was doing but Tisane was being coy.

No, not that one, she told him. She would have chuckled under any other circumstances but instead she sighed under her breath as the cold water ran over her scalded skin.