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23

I really, really shouldn't have said that... Mateo thought to himself, rooted in place as Ander's entire demeanour shifted before his eyes. No problems reading the body language here. It was all in the way his shoulders hunched up and his head tilted down. It was in the way he balled his hands into fists so hard he could actually hear the knuckles crack all the way across the room. Mostly, though, it was the eyes. Ander always had such stupid eyes. Dull eyes, if that made sense. Kind of sleepy and faraway, like he was always daydreaming about something. But not anymore. Now it felt like the brute was actually trying to kill him with those things, like he could burn a hole right through his skull if he just glared hard enough. And now the lips were peeling back, revealing the shiny whites beneath, covered in a slick layer of saliva. A deep growl rumbled from inside his throat, so low Mateo could actually feel it in the floorboards, although that was probably just his imagination.

Why do I keep getting myself involved in all this Wolf drama!?

Ander suddenly advanced and Kiana grabbed his arm -

"Ander, wait!"

• but he simply shrugged her off like it was nothing, and every step he came closer seemed to double his size.

Mateo backed up and hit the solid wall that was Nilia's abs. She was just staring straight ahead at nothing, completely rigid.

"Nilia, help!"

She didn't give any indication that she had heard him. She just kept staring, her mouth slightly open, like one trying to breathe with a stuffy nose.

Ander was almost right on top of them now, and Kiana's puny attempts at pulling him back were no more effective than that of a prickle-weed's.

Mateo raised both hands. "Listen, I'm sorr-"

The scant second it took for Ander to draw back his fist was just enough time for Mateo to have one final thought before everything blacked out, and that thought was: Yup, I'm dead.

Mateo had been punched in the face before (more than once, actually), but could it really still be called a 'punch' when the fist in question was as big as a summer yam?

He didn't think so.

Pain bloomed across the left side of his face, taking root all the way into his jawbone, it felt like. His vision blacked out, but he could still feel his body falling through space, as if his legs had miraculously disappeared below the knees. There was a nonsensical moment in which he wondered if this was what a tree felt like after being chopped down, and then a second burst of pain shot through his jaw and scraped along his face (other side this time).

After that it was as if all his senses decided to take a vacation. Maybe they thought they weren't being payed enough to deal with all this crap, or maybe they were unconscious, too, or maybe Mateo had been knocked so silly he wasn't thinking straight. Either way, everything went away for a little while. He didn't know how long, exactly, but it couldn't have been more than a few seconds because, when he opened his eyes, he was still slowly sliding down Ander's living room wall, applying a nice new coat of blood with his face.

He crumpled to the floor in a lopsided sitting position, feeling all the pain he had managed to skip during his short leave of absence come flooding back all at once. The left side was the worst, but the right wasn't exactly doing much better. And he thought there might be a splinter in his ear, too...

He looked up at all the staring faces, somehow feeling like he had come full circle, like he was lying flat on his back outside Othello's door, trying to decipher a world he could almost understand, if only it would stop spinning.

Ander was there. Wonderful wonderful Ander. Wonderful wonderful Andrew. Wonderful wonderful wonderful, with his knuckles all bloody and his stupid eyes looking down on him, judging him.

"I didn't want to do that," he said, "but that was the final insult. You're always giving Kiana trouble, and I have had it. If you ever say anything like that to her again, I'll make sure you regret it."

Speaking of Kiana, she was standing right beside his hulking form, silhouetted quite nicely against the warm glow coming in from the fireplace. Pretty as a picture. She had both hands clasped over her mouth, and her eyes kept darting between the bloodied Fox she was once betrothed to and her loyal attack Wolf, like it was such a huge shock the brute had finally snapped.

And Nilia, she seemed less detached now, but Mateo wasn't sure if that was a good thing. Nobody else had noticed it yet, but she wasn't staring at the lump of tenderized Fox meat on the floor or the one who had put it there. No... she was staring at Kiana's stomach, not in shock or awe, not even in terror or disgust, but misery, barely held in check.

Yeah, the cracks were starting to show, all right.

Mateo somehow managed to peel himself off the wall, the first warm embers of anger starting to flare up in his chest.

No, I got it. Please, don't rush me all at once trying to help...

Everything was piling up at once, and he we wasn't sure what made him the angriest; Ander, Kiana, Nilia, himself, or all the fools dancing outside. Everywhere his mind turned he found something to fan the flames, and the louder his heart beat and the more the blood pumped in his ears and the more his face throbbed in pain, the angrier he became.

He came in here intending to bury the hatchet, and maybe help that stubborn Wolfess work through some of her glaring issues. He came in here intending to be nice, but all that flew out the window the moment Ander showed his true colours, attacking him like some savage.

He finally managed to work his way up to his knees, absolutely hating that slimy, coppery taste of blood in his mouth. He spat a great dollop of it onto the floor and simply didn't give a damn. Why mind his manners when there was already a great whack of it smeared on the wall like some weird apostrophe? What difference will a little full stop make? Hell, he could add all kinds of punctuation to this abode. Commas, exclamation points, question marks, hyphens, colons, semi-colons, the more the merrier.

Are you really going to let that oaf push you around like this? Get up.

Mateo brought his leg forward, moving with all the care and precision of a drunkard that had just woken up in a strange place, still intoxicated out of his mind, but just aware enough to know he was in a bad spot. He put his hands down on his knee and pushed hard, forcing himself back onto his wobbly feet.

He could feel his temper slithering around inside his head like a burning snake, looking for the perfect place to bite. And, to be perfectly honest, Mateo didn't mind at all. Let it bite. Let it sink its fangs deep into the soft meat of his brain, for anger can do more for your courage than a tankard of booze any day.

Mateo reached up and wiped his mouth, leaving a dark smear of blood across his thumb. "You speak of regret, Ander? Would you like to know what I regret above all else? Not being quicker on the trigger when you first set foot in Grovenglen!"

Kiana gasped, but Ander just kept staring with that growl plastered over his mug, not moving. Mateo didn't care how hard he glared or how many times the vixen he once loved gasped at his words. He had something to say, and he would by the gods say it.

"Perhaps I'm a terrible Fox for thinking something like that. You make Kiana happy, and you make my mother happy, and for that I hold you no hatred. But, Ander, you are also the one who might end up killing them. You might end up killing us all!"

Mateo took great pleasure in the way Ander flinched at his words, as if struck a physical blow. And why shouldn't his words hurt? Nothing hurt more than the truth, and that beast knew it. He knew he was responsible for all this, even if nobody held him to it. Well, Mateo most certainly did, and he refused to pretend otherwise, not like all those pathetic happy-go-lucky lumps of passivity he once considered 'brethren'...

It's spreading, Mat. It's flowing out beyond this room. Get yourself under control right now, or there'll be no turning back. You know what happens when you let your emotions get out of hand. They go everywhere...

That voice was small and weak. Too small and weak. He could barely hear it.

Mateo went to the window, making sure to give Ander a good shunt on the way by. He looked outside, at the pulsating glow of the fire and the long shadows thrown across the snowy ground, at Foxes with their arms in the air and their voices reaching for the sky, and his temper grew and grew into a monstrous serpent, its fangs dripping with poison.

"Look at them all," he said. "There is an army of animalistic Wolves just beyond that mountain. They could be marching on our homes this very moment, and what are they doing? Laughing and singing and dancing and drinking and telling jokes and stuffing their faces. And you know why? It's because they're all so scared they'd rather pretend like everything is all right! They're all fools, and they should all be ashamed of themselves, but I love them." He rounded on Ander. "And you. You're the cause of all this. It's because of you our friends and family are in danger!"

He half expected the lout to take another swing at him, but all his bite had drained away. The growl was gone and his hands had unclenched. He looked almost... sad.

Rather than pacifying his anger, that sad look on Ander's face only made Mateo even more furious. He suddenly found himself wishing he had thought to bring Agatha along. She would have solved everything...

"Listen, Mateo," Ander said. "We can stop this right now. There doesn't need to be a fight."

"Ha!" Mateo had never heard anything so laughable. "This coming from the Wolf who just blasted me in the face? The same Wolf responsible for bringing war to this land? You? You're the one saying there's not going to be a fight?"

"Just back off and it can end right here. It doesn't need to get any worse."

"No. The entire valley might be in flames by tomorrow night. It's already as bad as it can get. If this is my last chance, I will say what I need to say, what no one else has the courage to say. I'll be the jackass, and damn the consequences." He raised an accusatory finger and pointed it right at the filthy half-breed's face. "I do not know your people, nor do I know what they are capable of, but I have seen what they did to you. Every time you came through that pass, you have been on the verge of death. The scars you bear are proof of that. You remember every one of them, don't you? Every bite and scratch and broken bone. Imagine for a second, Ander, if the monsters who could do that to one of their own sunk their teeth into a Fox child. What do you think would happen?" Mateo looked out the window and scanned through the smattering of Foxes until his eye fell on just the right example, sitting in his mother's lap. It was the same pup that had first extended his hand in friendship when that giant freak stepped out onto Rufio's front porch. It was the same, stupid, naïve little mind-set that might as well be representative of his people as a whole. "Tell me, Ander, what do you think those Wolves will do if they get hold of little Theo over there?"

Kiana stepped back in alarm. One hand shot to her mouth to stifle a gasp while the other went straight to her belly. "For pity's sake, Mat, he's just a child!"

"That's exactly the point I'm trying to make here!" Mateo said, furious that everyone could be so wilfully blind. "Think about family! Wives and husbands! Brothers and sisters! Mothers and fathers! Aunts and uncles! Sons and daughters! Babies, for gods' sakes! Torn apart in their cribs! We all know what will happen if that flimsy barricade fails! Thousands of Wolves will stream into the valley, burning our homes, our farmlands, everything we hold dear! They will pounce on any Fox who gets in their way, vixen or child, and they will rip their throats out like a bunch of savage animals, which is exactly what they are!" Mateo looked at her face, at those eyes staring back at him, and he got angrier and angrier. "Why am I the only one furious at the thought of my people lying in the streets with their innards spilling into the dust!?" he screamed. "We should be outraged! You should be outraged, Kiana! But instead you hang onto this guy, getting knocked up like some disgusting wench! What the hell is wrong with you!?"

Her face began to change, her shock and incredulity slowly giving way to a stone cold frown. Oh, she was angry all right, but not at the one who really deserved it. Mateo couldn't believe the glare he was suddenly getting from her, as if he was the one responsible for this mess. He threw his hands up in the air and said, "Why am I the villain here? For telling the truth? For pointing out what you already knew, but were too cowardly to acknowledge? I'm not the one you should be glaring at! It's him!"

Ander still had that grim look about his face, like he was attending a funeral. Probably not that far from the truth, actually, but Mateo would have preferred it if he had stayed angry. Let her see what these Wolves were really like, all gnashing jaws and flying claws, monsters without souls.

"All the things they did to you, Ander, they now come to do to us, only much worse!" he shouted, completely oblivious to the damage he was doing. "All these Foxes you claim to love so much, all your newfound friends and family, all of them are as good as dead because of you! Kiana? Dead. Layla? Dead. Bethany and Rufio? Dead! You as good as murdered them all just by being here! Just by breathing! Just by being alive, you're killing us all! That's all you and your kind are good for! Killing and murdering everyone around you! First you murdered your own brother, and now you've come to murder us! You were a murderer back home, and a murderer you still are! That will never change! Why don't you do us all a favour and murder yourself next!?"

Mateo was so angry, so seething with months of pent up anger that he almost didn't notice Nilia standing by the fireplace, looking down at the flames. Those dark green eyes should have looked so beautiful in that light, filled with embershine, but they were dull and lifeless. Looking at her, standing there, was like looking at an empty shell, something that once contained life, but now held nothing but dust. His words had done something to her just now, but what? Did he hurt her? No, she wasn't the one he wanted to hurt! It was Ander! That lumbering palooka! So why...

Why did he feel the same way as he did when he realised he had made his own mother cry? The same feeling as when he saw Kiana cry? The feeling that, in trying to protect someone he cared about, he had hurt them instead? How could he feel that way about a stranger? How could he feel that way when there were no tears to be seen?

What is she doing here? he wondered. What am I doing here? We came in here for something, didn't we? We wanted to say something, do something, ask something... Where did it all go?

"You have no idea how close I came I to setting your pyre just now," Ander said, his fists clenched so tightly that beads of blood were starting to seep between his fingers.

"Shut up."

"But I held myself back. You know why?"

"I said shut up."

"It's because I know how much Sarah loves you, and I know that no matter how hard I hurt you, I'll only be inflicting twice as much pain onto her. That won't make me feel better. It will only make me feel worse."

Mateo didn't want to, but his eyes drifted towards the window of their own accord. He could see her out there, his mother, talking to the younger pair of Wolves. The one with the scarf said something and she burst out laughing. The whole world might be crumbling around their heads, but she was still smiling. She's been doing that a lot ever since Ander came back.

What would she say if she was in this room with us right now? he wondered. How would she feel about the things I've said?

Mateo usually just threw his feelings out into the world, hardly ever letting his internal thoughts stay internal. Maybe that's why he sometimes had an uncanny understanding of what others were thinking and feeling on the inside, the things they didn't want to come out. Maybe that's why he knew there was something devouring Nilia from the inside, and maybe that's why he could envision exactly what his mother would have told him, were she here right now.

If Andrew is a murderer, then I must be one, too.

Mateo could actually see her in his mind's eye, not as some spectre of his imagination, but as a living, breathing Fox of flesh and blood, standing before him with tears in her eyes. It was a sight he had hoped to never see again, and yet here he was, the cause of it once again.

Mother...

Maybe I should have thrown myself down those stairs when I was a girl. That would have fixed everything, wouldn't it? Andrew would never have been born, and I wouldn't be standing here right now, about to murder the entire valley, as you say.

That's not what I meant, and you know it.

But it is. You said Andrew is killing everyone just by being here. Well, I'm the one who brought him into this world, so that must mean I'm responsible for killing everyone, too. Is that not true?

Mateo shut his eyes and tried to put a stop to this scenario, but it simply played on in his head, heedless of his wishes. He could hear his own response as if he were speaking it out loud. Mother, you are twisting my words, and I do not appreciate it. How can you even suggest that I would have preferred it if you had killed yourself? Do you really think so little of me?

You're right, Mateo. Of course you wouldn't have wanted me to kill myself, because then you would never have been born, and you are far too selfish for that.

He could barely keep hold of himself anymore. Unlike Nilia, he was lousy at locking his emotions away, and the scene simply played on in his mind, a self-abusive lashing of his own thoughts. After all I've done, Mother, I'll admit that I can be selfish, but you know I would never do anything to hurt you.

Then why couldn't you keep your promise!? It's only been a single day!

I promised I'd try, and I did! You have no idea how hard it's been for me to sit here, hour after hour, holding my tongue when I am surrounded by the biggest fools in all of Grovenglen! Foxes who would rather close their eyes and cover their ears and have a nice little barbeque and pretend that everything is all right when it clearly isn't! Vixens who open their hearts and their wombs to devils! Wolves who bring evil into our homes and take advantage of our pity, bleeding us dry, putting us all in danger! Forgive me if I can't put on a brave face like you, but don't expect me to play along and pretend like nothing's wrong!

If you want to give yourself up to despair, then fine! You can piss and moan like a whiny little bitch, but don't try to drag everyone else down with you!

Mother! Since when do you use language like that?

Since right now! It was a scary sight, seeing his mother bare her fangs while crying at the same time. He knew it wasn't real, but at the same time, he knew it was dreadfully real, far more real than anything his imagination could produce on its own. This is the first night Andrew's friends are staying in Grovenglen, and the first time they've ever spoken to our people, and you're making us all look terribly bad!

Them!? Mateo saw himself slapping his hand against the window, making it rattle in its frame, saw himself sweeping his other arm across the room, encompassing Ander and his bloody hands, Nilia and her bone-dry eyes. You look at them and see guests and family, I look at them and see seven reasons we'll never see spring!

That goes for them, too, Mat! They're in just as much danger as we are, perhaps even more! They've suffered enough without you hurling your accusations everywhere!

Truths, Mother! Nothing I have said here tonight is a lie! Every word I speak is nothing but the truth!

Even if it is the truth, it's still a terrible thing to say! She took a shuddering breath and wiped at her eyes. Apparently her sadness was starting to win over her anger. Why do you have to look at everything and everyone as either a challenge or an enemy? Why do you fight so hard to push everyone away?

Why...?

He knew the answer to that one.

Mateo opened his eyes. Nilia was still standing by the fire, staring at the crumbling logs. Kiana was still standing by Ander's side, a sheen of unspilled tears coating her eyes, and Ander was still by Kiana's side, but slightly in front, as if shielding her from something dangerous.

Mateo approached him without fear and jabbed a finger at his chest. "I love my mother," he said. "And I love my father. I love my home, and I love my land. I love my friends and family, and that is why I say these things. It is because I love them that I do not want to lose them, and it is because I do not want to lose them that I hate you... I try not to, I really do. I promised I wouldn't. But Ander... you don't understand how hard it is..."

Ander did something then that surprised him. It certainly wasn't the kind of reaction he would have expected from someone who'd just been told he was hated.

He nodded, and simply said: "I understand exactly how you feel."

It was like a slap in the face. Mateo's index finger kept twitching against his will, longing for the familiar curve of his crossbow's trigger. "You don't know how I feel."

"I do. I've been there. I know what it's like to fear for the lives of your family. Right now you're so angry you can barely stand it, and you have every right to feel that way. You'd do anything, say anything, and lash out at anyone. You might even kill if it would save the ones you care about. You and I may be very different about most things, but in that regard, we are the -"

"Don't you dare say we are the same!" Mateo raised his head and confronted this giant freak head-on, eye to eye, Fox to Wolf, man to man. "If my bolt had pierced your skull instead of your hand, we'd all be safe! If your people had done a better job tearing you apart, we'd all be safe! If you'd just -"

"If he'd just let me burn, we'd all be safe!" Kiana took Ander's hand, intertwining their fingers together. "Is that what you were going to say Mat? It's the truth. If Ander had left me in that cage, I'd be dead. They would have tied my hands and feet and they would have thrown me onto a stack of wood and they would have burned me alive. You would never have learned what happened to your fiancé, but at least you would have been safe. That's the most important thing, isn't it? Saving your own skin, you selfish jerk."

"It's not about my skin alone! It's the skins of everyone! My family! Your family! Your mother! Your father! Your sister! Everyone! Even the baby you carry! Why can't you understand that? Why am I the selfish one here!?"

"If I had known my actions would lead to this, if I had known everyone back home might die because of me, I would have burned with a smile!" She looked away for a moment. "No... No, I wish I could say that, but I can't. If I had burned, I never would have met Ander, and I never would have known what real love was. I never would have known this crazy feeling, this terrifying, gut-wrenching feeling that makes me jump out of bed every morning and fly down the stairs, this insane feeling of wilfully rushing toward something I'm deathly afraid of because I simply can't get enough of it, this scary feeling that can make my knees go weak and my heart skip a beat, every cliché you can think of. And I never would have known the scariest, most wonderful feeling of them all..." She cradled her baby bump in her hands. "I guess, in the end, I'm just as selfish as you are."

"But you could have known real love with me!" Mateo shrieked. "If you had just stayed with me, we could have built the perfect life together! There wouldn't be any talk of war! We could have had a nice little house with a garden! You would have been heavy with my child instead of Ander's half-breed bastard hell spawn!"

She looked up sharply, her eyes flashing fire. "Don't you dare say anything about my baby."

"Your baby? Your baby!? Don't you mean monster!? Because if it's anything like its father, that's what it'll be! A screaming abomination that only takes and takes and takes and -"

"Stop it Mateo! Just stop it!"

Mateo always threw his feelings out into the world, never letting his internal thoughts stay internal. That's why he sometimes had an uncanny understanding of what others were thinking and feeling on the inside, the things they tried to keep hidden. It was a gift he seldom used, perhaps out of instinct, because a gift that could let you see into the hearts and souls of those around you wasn't really a gift at all. In his hands, it was a weapon. A terrible, deadly weapon that could cut deeper than any blade, and without the ability to keep his own thoughts and feelings inside, without a sheath to keep that weapon in check, he could just throw it out into the world, and he could cut the ones who didn't deserve it, the ones he cared about, the ones he loved, and if he did that, he might as well turn that weapon upon himself.

His anger, his fury, his hatred, every black feeling he could muster, he took them all and threw it directly at her heart, her soul, her very being. Before he could stop himself, before he even knew what he was doing, he said something he would regret for the rest of his life.

"If you love that baby so much, I hope it's a stillborn!"

The silence that followed his words was unlike anything he had ever felt before. It seeped right out of the floorboards like mist, enveloping everything.

So many thoughts raced through his mind in those endless moments, so many memories and fantasies mixed together, frozen in time. He had tried so hard to forget about her and move on with his life, but it had been impossible. He had thrown himself to the drink, he had tried to stomp on his own heart, he had even gone so far as to chain himself with promises, but he was never able to crush his feelings completely. The truth was, he did have feelings for Kiana, and he always would. Unfortunately, not all those feelings were good anymore. She had hurt him. She had stabbed him through the heart and twisted the knife for good measure. Was it really so wrong that she feel just a little bit of that pain for herself?

Yes, yes it was. It was wrong, and he knew it. But still, seeing her eyes widen and her mouth drop open filled him with the foulest joy he had ever known. That feeling only lasted a moment, but it was a moment too long.

He had taken joy in inflicting pain upon a vixen he thought he loved. Perhaps Mother was right.

Perhaps he really was turning into his grandfather.

The slap hit him right across the face, but that's not where the pain came from. The pain came from seeing Kiana go to pieces, and knowing it was all his fault.

Mateo rubbed his cheek and the taste of blood filled his mouth once again, bitter as iron.

Her hand was still raised, her fingers trembling in the air, and her face... by the gods, what had he done?

What's done is done and can't be undone.

She was misery. She was agony. She was pain and sadness. Looking upon her was like looking at the face of despair itself, tears running down her face in twin streams, her lips trembling, her breath hitching in her throat.

There was nothing he could say to take back his words, no action that could erase his sin.

"Kiana, I..."

She buried her face in Ander's side and sobbed into his clothes, grabbing hold with clutching fingers. Her muffled cries struck Mateo like a series of blows to the gut, nearly doubling him over with nausea. He had an absurd moment where he contemplated shoving his fingers down his throat and retching it all up, anything to be rid of this terrible feeling.

Ander folded his arms over her heaving shoulders, and all Mateo could do was watch impotently as he held her and stroked her hair, comforting her in a way he never could. It was a realization that hurt almost as much as listening to her agonized weeping.

He wanted to do something. He wanted to take it back. He wanted to tell her how sorry he was. He wanted to let her know that he didn't mean it, that he would never wish something like that on anyone.

But he couldn't. He was too afraid to open his mouth, lest he infect her with even more of his poisonous words.

Ander looked up from the crying vixen clinging to his body, and the moment their eyes met, Mateo knew he had been premature in calling him an animal, for the look he was getting right now was the most animalistic thing he had ever seen. It was a look that said, quite plainly: I am going to rip you apart.

"Come on, Kiana," Ander said and walked her towards a door at the back of the room. Kiana allowed herself to be steered without a word, occasionally sobbing into her hands.

Mateo thought about going after them. There was still time. She would never forgive him, but it was worth a try, wasn't it? If these really were their last days on earth, he didn't want to spend them knowing he had made Kiana's final hours a living hell. He didn't want her to hate him! He didn't want anyone to hate him! He didn't want to hate himself! He wanted none of it! All he really wanted was...

... for everyone to be happy.

Then stop making them so unhappy, you worthless sack of crap!!

He would have done it, too. He would have dropped to his knees and begged for her forgiveness if that's what it took. He would have shouldered any punishment, endured any torture, anything at all to release these feelings inside, but that was the true problem, wasn't it? He could never keep his emotions bottled up for long. They always needed to get out right away, and because of that he always ended up hurting everyone around him.

It is better to say nothing. To feel nothing. That's the way it has always been...

Nilia?

Mateo stopped dead after taking only a single step, his head slowly turning towards the fireplace as if guided by a pair of cold, invisible hands, his heart thudding in his throat.

She was still standing there, all by herself, staring into the flaming depths, throwing a monstrous, hunchbacked shadow across the wall, clutching her bear claw necklace to her breast, and her face...

No, it couldn't be. Was she... crying?

Mateo peered into the darkness, confused by what he was seeing.

Her ears were flat and her mouth was slightly open. She seemed to be having trouble breathing, and her chest was moving at an inconsistent tempo as a result. Her face was a contorted mess. Everything about her seemed to suggest that she was crying, except for the fact that her eyes were bone dry.

Was that even possible? Crying without tears?

I never cry!

Did he hurt her, too? This woman that seemed so indestructible? Was nothing and no one safe from his poisonous heart?

In that moment, Mateo genuinely hated himself. He hated how he could never keep his damnable feelings on the inside, where they could hurt no one but himself. Because no matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried, he always made everything worse for everyone.

Everything he felt, he always felt far too much, whether it be happiness, hatred, love, sorrow, loss, anger...

It was always just too much.

"Kiana?" Ander put his hand on her shoulder, and oh how Mateo hated it. If he had done that, she would have recoiled at his touch. But for Ander, for the perfect son and the perfect lover, she was able to lower her hands and smile. For him... for the Wolf... for the one who had barged into his life and taken everything he once held dear.

She loved him, and the worst part was, Mateo understood why.

Why be with poison when you could be with anyone else? Anyone at all?

He opened the door, his hand lightly pushing against the small of her back. Mateo could see the corner of a bed and some shelves inside, half-filled with wood carvings and other artistic projects. "Wait here for a while," he said. "There's something I need to take care of."

"What are you going to do?" Kiana asked, wiping her sleeve across her eyes.

"Just go inside. I'll be with you in a minute."

Kiana hesitated. The fire had died down to the barest of flames, bathing everyone in a hellish red glow. It made her tears shine like rubies.

Why... Why did I have to do this? Why did I have to be such a jackass? Why couldn't I just keep my heart locked up?

She went inside and Ander closed the door behind her with a soft click.

The wind blew across the hill and slammed into the side of the house. Outside, vixens grabbed at their dresses and screamed and laughed in surprise as the oak tree's bare branches swayed and groaned, its skeletal fingers scraping and clicking against each other in the pale moonlight.

Ander stood perfectly still, except for his hands. They were curled into fists so tight that his claws had actually pierced his palms. Mateo could see the blood oozing from between his fingers, seeping through the light blue handkerchief he had used as a bandage and dripping onto the floor. He slowly turned around, and the look in his eyes was more than enough for Mateo to know, without a shadow of a doubt...

He is going to kill me.

"Stillborn, Mateo?" he said, every syllable dripping with so much anger it made his own seem like a mere child's temper tantrum. "Do you have any idea what it is you actually said to her? Do you have any idea what kind of a curse that is?" Ander advanced, his fangs bared and his fur standing up in untidy spikes. His footfalls seemed to leave craters in their wake. "Do you have any idea what it's like for a parent to lose a child before they even have a chance to earn a name!?"

Mateo could have run, he supposed. He didn't think Ander would actually come after him, despite being angry enough to burn holes with his eyes.

But he didn't. Mateo might be a lot of things, but he wasn't a coward. And...

And maybe he deserved what was coming. Maybe he deserved to have his face punched in. Maybe he deserved a broken jaw and a few missing teeth. Maybe he deserved even worse.

So he stood his ground. And he waited. And he hoped.

Ander raised his fist and the fire light washed over his bloody knuckles, red on red, and that's when Mateo noticed that the handkerchief, so carefully tied, wasn't just any old handkerchief.

It was their mother's.

He hoped the blow would be powerful enough to kill.

---

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