Page 44 of Blood Moon

Oh, little wolf. You grew too fast; we both did.

Article I, Lost Letters from Aadan the First

In a hushed slumber, a memory came.

Rena cradled me in her arms as we swayed rhythmically. The old rocking chair creaked, soothing me as a dashing glow of colors skimmed against my eyelids. Nearby, Bobby watched the television quietly in the background.

The three of us were in the living room, and I recalled that for a few weeks back then, I couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t entirely remember why that was, just that whenever I woke, it felt as though someone was watching over me—bony fingers like thorned stems, ragged breathing like a vicious beast.

I was only five, wrapped in a quilt Rena had made a long time ago, listening to the way the rain and wind clacked against the fireplace as the thunder rolled in.

A hum in her chest as she sang. It was an old Bantu Lullaby in Zulu. She’d told me once that parents sang it to their children to keep the monsters at bay while they slept.

“Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo,

Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo,

Abiyoyo, yoyoyo, yoyoyo,

Abiyoyo, yoyoyo, yoyoyo.”

She kept the song going until my muscles fell languid, with twitching fingers and toes, and at the end, she added, “I’m always going to watch over you.”