Nightwolf

by Karina Halle

Being a vampire meant that when you had to live with sorrow, you had to live with it for a very, very long time. Wolf would have to live with it forever.

“You don’t have to make something of yourself,” I say, my voice coming out ragged. “You already are something. Frankly, you’re everything.” “To the world?” she whispers, meeting my eyes. “To me,” I tell her. “You’re everything to me. Fuck the world. They don’t matter. I do.”