Brooke and the Wolf: Curses of Midnight Springs by Valerie Jo

Brooke and the Wolf: Curses of Midnight Springs by Valerie Jo

Author:Valerie Jo [Jo, Valerie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-04-24T16:00:00+00:00


18

Peter

Her stomps were louder than her scent. Birds and squirrels fled the scene as leaves and small twigs crunched under her feet.

My first instinct was to smile when I saw her, but that was squashed once I saw the look on her face. She didn’t come to kiss today.

She came to fight.

“You’d think someone in your shoes would be a little more grateful and actually show up when someone invites them to dinner,” she said, tossing a covered plate at my chest. Spaghetti noodles spilled out on my shirt, but I kept most of them from falling to the ground.

I cursed at myself. Dinner. That’s what I’d forgotten.

“I didn’t mean to—”

“Didn’t mean to what? Stand me up? Make me look a fool for waiting on you, staring out the window hoping you were alright?”

“Well, I—”

“I wondered if I would come out here and find you as a wolf. I wondered if you were alive. Because I thought, ‘Surely Peter wouldn’t go back on his word unless he unwillingly turned into a wolf or was dead.’ But look at you! Here you are, perfectly fine! I don’t know if I’m relieved or if it makes me even more angry!”

I licked some sauce off my finger. “It’s good. Did you cook this?”

“Yes, mister, I did. I slaved over a hot stove for you, and you didn’t even come home. Good heavens, I sound like a wife from the fifties,” she said, her anger disintegrating as a smile crossed her face.

“May I explain myself?” I asked, fearing she would cut me off with another monologue.

“Do you have an actual explanation that weighs as much as being a wolf or being dead?” she asked, her voice laced with sarcasm.

I chuckled. “Actually, yes. It’s about being a wolf and being dead.”

She grew serious, and all anger within her was gone. “What do you mean?”

“Do you know a guy named Nash?” I asked.

“Nash Williams? The sheriff’s kid? Yeah, why?” she asked.

I launched into my story, passing on everything I heard at the meeting and how distressed I had been.

“To be honest, I don’t really have an excuse,” I admitted. “It wasn’t as if they were chasing me with guns at the moment. I forgot, Brooke. I was worried about you and even selfishly worried about me. I’m sorry. I should have been there.”

She looked pale—too pale for the darkness of her skin.

“Let’s sit,” I said, taking a seat on the log and motioning for her to sit beside me.

She didn’t straddle it like she had the day before. She didn’t even look at me.

“Brooke?”

“Eat your food, it’s probably already cold,” she said, still looking off into the trees. The sun was getting low but still cast a warm, orange light on the forest.

I obeyed and gave her space for her thoughts—even though I had already eaten. I couldn’t refuse what she had so angrily delivered to me. I would eat every bite. If it helped her forgive me, I’d eat the noodles that fell on the ground.



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