Page 42 of Lupo

I just hope that when they finally see the truth, they won't hate me for it.

That night, I go to dinner. I sit at their table and eat Isabella's cooking and listen to Elena chatter about her day. I help with dishes. I accept another soft, sweet kiss at the door before I leave. I don’t push for more because I don’t deserve it. Not after the things I’ve done.

And the whole time, I'm aware of the violence thrumming under my skin. The memories of blood and death. The cold certainty that I could kill everyone in this house without breaking a sweat.

But I wouldn't.

That's the only thing I know for sure.

I would die before I hurt them.

I would kill before I let anyone else hurt them.

And when the time comes, when Draco or his men or whoever's looking for me finally shows up, they're going to learn exactly what kind of monster they're dealing with.

Back in the barn, I lie awake and let the memories come.

I don't fight them anymore.

Because I'm going to need them.

Every brutal, violent, unforgivable piece of who I was, I'm going to need it all.

Chapter 14: Isabella

I'm counting coins when Lupo walks into the kitchen.

I don't hear him at first. I'm too focused on the pathetic pile of euros on the table, doing the math over and over, hoping somehow it will add up differently this time.

It doesn't.

Twelve euros and thirty-seven cents. That's what I have left until... I don't even know. Until I can sell more vegetables or eggs at the market. Until something changes.

Until a miracle happens.

"Isabella."

I jump, my hand scattering the coins across the table. Some roll onto the floor.

Lupo is standing in the doorway. He must have come in for his nightly shower. His hair is damp, his face clean, wearing my father's clothes. He looks good. Healthy. He's gained weight since I found him, his face less gaunt, his body stronger.

Because I've been feeding him.

"Sorry," he says. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's fine." I'm already gathering the coins, trying to hide them, but it's too late. He's seen.

He crosses the kitchen and crouches down, picking up the coins that rolled near his feet. He hands them to me, and I can see the question in his eyes.

"Is this all you have?" he asks quietly.

"It's enough." The lie tastes bitter.

"Isabella."

"I said it's enough." I put the coins in the jar where I keep our money, twisting the lid tight.

He doesn't move. Just watches me with those dark eyes that see too much.