Written in Red (The Others, #1)

by Anne Bishop

“Simon was being mean. He made the Meg cry. I’m going over to the store to see if I can find a sparkly that will make her smile again. The Meg smiles a lot—when the Wolf isn’t snarling at her.”

“A special Moonsday treat,” she said, holding out two lumps to Thunder. He took them happily. They all did. So happily, in fact, they all tried to get in line again for another serving.

“Shiny!” Jenni made a grab for the razor, then jerked her hand back when Blair turned his head and snapped at her.

“Meg stays,” Simon said in confirmation. “And we’ll make sure Meg—and the police—know we consider her one of us now.”

“Mr. Wolfgard?” she said before he stepped out the door. “I noticed the kitchen door shares a landing. Who lives in the other apartment?” He gave her a long look. “I do.”

Meg Corbyn is ours now—and we protect our own.

Flickers of red in Wolfgard’s amber eyes. When he spoke, Monty didn’t think Simon was even aware of the way his voice snarled, “Meg is ours.”

“It’s not a leash,” a young, scratchy voice shouted. Or tried to shout. “It’s a safety line. Adventure buddies use a safety line so they can help each other.”

He leaned down, capturing her chin between thumb and forefinger in order to turn her head and get a better look. He leaned closer, breathing in the scent of her. The smell of sickness lingered on her clothes. Not sure what to do, he gave her cheek a gentle lick.

Of course, the boy had also campaigned for Meg to go with him to puppy school because there were things she didn’t know.

The girls had gotten what they came for. They would buy a few books as payment for being able to relate to their friends that they had seen, for real, a Wolf sniff a woman’s crotch in public.

Simon chased a cookie across the floor, enjoying the silly game.

The sweatshirt was big on her and she looked ridiculous. He liked it. And he liked that she was wearing something that carried his scent.

Simon closed his eyes. Keeping his head against her arm, he breathed in the scents that were Meg. The hair was still stinky, but not so much now, and the rest of her smelled good. Pleasing. Comforting.

Since she was spooned around Sam to keep him warm, Simon had figured it was only sensible to stay as Wolf and tuck himself against her back to keep her warm.

He kissed her forehead and found the act pleasing for its own sake.

“If you ever scare me like this again, I will eat you!” Then he pressed his forehead against her arm and whined.