Savage heart the other side of him

ke up and pretend t

ke a normal man. I unlock the garage by six, fire up the coffee maker, wipe down my tools. Just another mechan

ke this one, the wolf

nd my shirt sticks to my back with dried sweat. My jaw is sore, probably from grinding my teeth mid-shift, and there's a

ike burnt oil and mouse droppings. The radiator's shot, the timing belt's off, and something in the transmission is

really sleeps

s-silver cuffs around the wrists, iron-lined cage in the basement-I remember

hat I did. Or

ow the w

and try not to

omewhere beyond the garage, and from the road I can hear the occasional crunch of gravel as

e not

rrounded by forest, legend, and too many missing person reports. The locals pretend everything is f

s, and the woods

wear they brea

front door creaks open. I don't turn around right away. Most folks in Hollow's Edge know bette

catch t

ng sharp underneath, lik

mach t

lf wak

oman asks, voic

ook

rything

ts are scuffed, her fingers gloved, and a satchel hangs across her chest like she's been traveling a long time. Her h

y. Still.

link when th

nd straighten. "Depends

e says. "Just passing through.

. Another one above the diner, if

, but there's something behind it. Somet

ds what you're

ust slightly. "And wh

oub

hen she walks in. Not the nervous kind of walk, not someone trying to tiptoe aro

my spin

she's wearing a human body, but it doesn't quite fit right. My

name?" I as

s. "Eir

in

"Would you believe me i

I say

t thin

s a few feet from me, a

e," I offer,

hing insid

nt of rain before a lightning strike. Her skin is warm, too warm,

old blood. The wolf is pacing in my chest, agitated, co

hu

say, pulling my hand back. "This plac

nk. "Good. I'm

ything else, she turns and walks out, boots cr

hat, I know two

ot just pass

iet life is of

ch done the re

. That storm-grey stare. That too-stea

and thrown a wrench across the garage just to hear something break. The wolf is restl

t, I give

, breathing in

the garage are si

when I

oo

es

, sharp as a blade

de-quiet steps, controlled breath, eyes scanning the shadows for

ke long to fi

ep impressions. Bare feet

ll s

tang gets

en I f

Fi

amn m

ar worse than fear. His torso is a ruin of meat and sinew, rib

ne knee, he

day and made the worst dad jokes in the county. He

my stomach drop

prints leadin

olf p

Deep.

y aren'

as the

t-I use

e woods, my vis

ere, something h

t was