Page 40 of The Ashpaw: Part One

A log, nearly spent, cracked and fell, small sparks burning bright and disappearing quickly.

“Why did you summon me here?” she asked.

He hummed as his hand stopped at the nape of her neck, rubbing her softly there.

Oh, she could feel the wolf in her now, wanting to kick her leg in pleasure.

“I was bored.”

At this she laughed, tearing up not in misery but out of pure humor and joy.

“And what am I, the clan jester as well now?” she replied, dabbing the corners of her eyes with the pads of her fingers.

“Aye, didn’t Darion tell you the last rule? ‘The Ashpaw shall be entertaining.’”

Eidan’s mockery of his brother was doing the entertaining for her, lightening the tension in her muscles and the heaviness in her chest.

“I’m afraid I’m out of jokes today. Shall I round up some tomatoes for throwing instead?”

It was Eidan who laughed now, so deeply her body bounced off his chest where he held her. “Still a little early for tomatoes, I’m afraid. Would asparagus be an acceptable substitute?”

“Hardly!” she scoffed. “It’s peas or nothing.”

“Ah, well, that reminds me of the other reason I brought you here.”

He tapped her to rise and she slid off his lap reluctantly. Eidan then led her towards the table where a bowl of split pea soup and a small loaf of fresh bread with a dab of butter sat on a tray.

“To think I almost brought the asparagus custard…”

The smile died on her lips, and she waited, too afraid to move.

Eidan frowned. “What’s wrong? Are you not hungry?”

“I… I don’t know.”

Because she really didn’t. She’d grown used to scraps, to knowing the scents of fresh meat, pies, savory stews, and sweet puddings weren’t ever going to be for her again.

Even something as simple as butter, a staple she’d grown up eating, felt like a luxury, so rich it would hurt her stomach more than fill it.

“It’s too much.”

“Too… too much?” The idea seemed to offend him. “Pups no taller than my knee eat more than this. I was about to get more.”

She shook her head. “Please, no… just the bread is plenty.”

He placed his hand on her back and pushed her forward, guiding her a little forcefully into the chair. “You need to eat if you hope to shift at the next full moon. Starve the man, starve the wolf.”

“I’m a woman.”

“Same difference.”

“And I’m made,” she added.

His frustration grew. “Who cares?”

“Everyone but you, apparently.”

Eidan grumbled to himself, falling heavily into the chair next to her. “Fern, please. My brother… My brother…” He sighed, giving her a wan smile. “He was raised to lead armies, and thinks physical pain is the surest path towards results. Works well with soldiers—not so much with little she-wolves in the dining hall.”