Thorn (Werewolf) ✔

Chapter Twenty

I sit in the long grass next to the lake while Thorn bathes. I pluck it from the ground and I throw it. Over and over. The woods are beautiful. It's peaceful and calming here, colourful and inspiring. It's also boring.

Oh, what I'd give to watch television for a while. Or ride a bicycle along the moors or read a book with a tray of snacks on my lap or obsess over how many new outfits I haven't gotten around to wearing yet.

The real world is slipping further away.

I even miss the cat and I hated that cat. I miss playing piano and making faces at my home-school tutor whenever he turned around to write something on his blackboard. I miss hot showers and napping in my bathrobe.

I don't miss my life but I just miss life outside these trees. I frown as I start thinking about chocolate.

I already bathed an hour ago while Thorn took his morning nap that he didn't get at dawn. We've hardly spoken about anything. I have so many questions but the moment I start asking them is the moment I start to believe that what he said is true. And I'm not ready to face that yet.

My arm is fully healed. No pain and no scarring. That herb isn't just incredible, it's a damn miracle. Like magic.

Magic. I crinkle my nose at the word. I never believed that such things existed but for him to be cursed to live here for decades without ever growing old then that must be magic. What else could it be? Apart from insanity then it's the only possible explanation.

Insanity is still the best choice.

I study him as he breaks through the surface of the water and I watch the sprinkling of droplets that almost float around him as he runs his hands through his wet hair. I stare at the slashes on his stomach. He wears them with pride. They are a reminder of something that he survived, something that he fought.

I divert my eyes as he moves through the water and slowly climbs up the bank. He isn't shy about being naked but I'd still feel guilt if I looked. I keep my gaze down while he puts clothes on until I hear him walking over. He stares right at me as he passes me. I roll my eyes. I guess he wants me to follow him.

"Keep up," he shouts.

I jog to his side. We walk for a long time. He never gets exhausted no matter how far he walks so it's hard for him to understand that I have to take breaks. He paces to a tree and glares at me as he rests an arm against it.

"I have honestly never in my life met someone as human as you."

"That's illogical," I say.

"You're illogical," he mutters. "Are you thirsty?"

I nod.

He throws his blade at my feet, making me flinch. "It rained last night. Extract some water."

I clench my teeth.

"Don't scowl at me," he says. "Just do it."

"If I'm staying with you then why do I still need to learn all of these things?"

"Because one, I don't have slave written on my forehead. And two, you're only staying with me until you're ready to do it by yourself. If it takes a month then it takes a month." He clears his throat and glances away. "Or a year."

I scowl harder as I pick the blade up. I remember everything he showed me, mainly because he made me practise it dozens of times. I find a stick and I snap it, carefully trailing the blade along the centre to split it open. I make the pipe and I sharpen the edge before I kneel down at the base of the tree and I cut away the bark.