Chapter 176: Episode 175: Not a bad person

“You are sleeping in the backyard,” Rue pointed a strict finger at the bleeding wolf.

Onyx didn’t argue. He didn’t bare his teeth. The giant black wolf just lowered his massive head. Blood dripped from his torn ear. It splashed against the wooden porch boards. He let out a low rumble in his chest and backed away. He accepted the punishment. He knew he messed up.

Axel stood right behind Rue. He leaned against the open door frame. He wiped a smear of blood off his own chin. He smiled a cruel, mocking smile. He loved watching the big bad wolf get scolded by a tiny rabbit.

“Good boy,” Axel sneered. “Know your place, stray.”

Rue spun around. She glared right at Axel. Her pink nose twitched. Her soft ears flattened against her head. She wasn’t a fighter. She was a small, fragile rabbit hybrid. She didn’t have claws. She didn’t have fangs. She couldn’t tear a man’s throat out. But she was the mother of this house. She made the rules.

“You’re sleeping in the barn too,” Rue told him.

Axel froze. His smug smile vanished in an instant. “What? Why? He started it!”

“You finished it right in front of the kids,” Rue snapped. “You broke my porch railing. You ripped up my flower beds. You scared the little ones half to death. I don’t care who threw the first punch. I don’t care about your stupid wolf pride. Get out.”

Axel opened his mouth to argue. He looked at her strict posture. He saw the cold anger in her eyes. He sighed. He knew she wouldn’t budge. You couldn’t win an argument with Rue when the kids were involved. He pushed off the door frame and limped down the steps. He grumbled a string of curses under his breath. He walked past Onyx and headed straight for the old wooden barn out back.

Onyx followed him a minute later. They kept a wide distance from each other. They didn’t speak.

Rue stood on the porch alone. The cold night wind ruffled her soft hair. She rubbed her bare arms to stay warm. The adrenaline slowly left her system. Her hands started to shake. She hated the violence. She hated the loud noises. She took a deep breath. She turned around and walked back inside the house.

The living room was a disaster zone. A ceramic lamp lay broken on the rug. Clumps of mud stained the polished floorboards. The kids peeked out from behind the ugly floral sofa. Their wide eyes searched her face. They trembled in the dark corners.

“It’s okay,” Rue said softly.

She knelt down on the rug. She opened her arms. The little ones rushed over and buried their faces in her warm sweater. She hugged them tight. She kissed the tops of their heads. She felt their tiny hearts beating fast against her chest. She hated when the wolves fought. It disrupted her safe, quiet life. She just wanted a peaceful home.

“The bad wolves are outside,” Rue promised. “They won’t come back in tonight. Time for bed.”

She carried the youngest one on her hip. She guided the others down the hallway. She tucked the kids into their beds. She pulled the thick quilts up to their chins. She sat in the rocking chair and read them a short story about a brave squirrel. She read in a slow, soothing voice. She waited until their breathing slowed down. She waited until their eyes drifted shut.

She walked back to the living room. She spent the next hour cleaning up the mess. She swept the broken glass into a plastic dustpan. She grabbed a mop and scrubbed the mud off the floor until her knees ached. She straightened the rug. She put the couch cushions back in place.

The house finally settled into an uneasy peace. The grandfather clock ticked loudly in the corner.

Rue walked into the small bathroom. She turned on the harsh overhead light. She opened the medicine cabinet. She pulled out a plastic first-aid box. It rattled as she carried it into the kitchen. She filled a tin basin with warm tap water. She grabbed two clean rags and a bottle of strong antiseptic.

She put on a thick winter coat. She walked out the back door.

The night air bit her cheeks. The wind howled through the bare trees. The barn stood a few yards away. Yellow light spilled from the cracked wooden doors. She pushed the heavy door open.

The barn smelled like dry hay, old dirt, and sharp wolf scent. The tension in the room felt thick enough to cut with a knife.

Axel sat on an overturned bucket near the entrance. He held a piece of hay between his teeth. He looked up when she walked in. He watched her carry the medical supplies.

Onyx sat way in the back corner. He hid in the deepest shadows. He kept his broad back turned to them. He didn’t make a sound. He didn’t even turn his head.

Rue walked up to Axel first. She set the tin basin on a wooden crate. She dipped a rag into the warm water. She squeezed the excess water out.

“You look terrible,” Rue told him.

“You should see the other guy,” Axel joked. He winced when he smiled. A fresh cut above his eyebrow started bleeding again. Blood dripped down the side of his face.

Rue pressed the wet rag against his cheek. Axel hissed and jerked his head back.

“Hold still,” she ordered.

“It burns,” Axel complained.

“It’s supposed to burn,” Rue shot back. “Maybe next time you won’t brawl on my front steps.”

She cleaned the dirt and dried blood off his face. Axel watched her with intense eyes. He didn’t apologize for the fight. He just let her take care of him. He liked her attention. She patched a deep scratch on his shoulder. She taped a white bandage over his bruised knuckles. He smelled like copper and wet fur.

“There,” Rue said. She stepped back. “Try not to bleed on the hay. The horses have to eat that.”

Axel chuckled. “Thanks, little rabbit.”

Rue didn’t smile back. She picked up the tin basin. She picked up a fresh roll of white bandages. She walked past Axel. She headed straight for the dark corner.

Onyx sat on the dirt floor. His knees were pulled up to his chest. His large hands rested flat against the ground. He looked like a giant, broken statue. The shadows hid his face. He blended right into the darkness.

Rue stopped a few feet away from him.

She didn’t ask if he wanted help. She didn’t offer a sweet greeting. She just threw the roll of white bandages right at his chest.

Onyx caught the roll with one fast hand. He didn’t look up. He stared at his own dark boots. His broad shoulders slumped forward. He looked miserable.

“Are you going to let me clean that?” Rue asked.

Onyx stayed quiet. He slowly shook his head. He felt so stupid. He let his feral instincts take over. He lost control in her front yard. He scared the children. He acted like a wild beast. He knew Rue hated wild beasts. She liked quiet, gentle things. She liked soft mornings and warm tea. He ruined her evening with his violent temper.

“Look at me,” Rue said.

Onyx refused. He kept his chin tucked down. He didn’t want to see the disgust in her eyes.

Rue sighed. She set the warm water down on the dirt. She took a step closer. She didn’t fear him. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her. She knelt down right in front of him. Her soft knees hit the cold dirt floor.

She reached out. She pressed her small fingers under his rough chin. She pushed his head up.

Onyx finally looked at her.

His dark eyes held so much guilt. The raw vulnerability made Rue’s chest ache. A nasty cut ran along his sharp jawline. Blood matted his dark hair. A dark purple bruise swelled around his left eye. He looked like a stray dog expecting a harsh kick. He braced himself for her anger.

Rue didn’t yell at him.

She dipped the clean rag into the warm water. She brought it up to his face.

Onyx flinched. He expected the sting of antiseptic. He squeezed his eyes shut tight.

She just pressed the warm, damp cloth against his skin. She wiped the dried blood away. Her touch was soft. She worked in slow, careful circles. She cleaned the dirt out of the cut on his jaw. She washed the grime off his cheekbones.

The barn was dead quiet. Axel watched them from the other side of the room. He didn’t say a single word. He didn’t make a single joke. He just sat on his bucket and chewed his hay.

Onyx opened his eyes. He leaned into her touch. The warm rag felt like absolute heaven against his throbbing skin. His chest rose and fell in a deep, shaky breath. He smelled her sweet scent. It smelled like fresh rain and vanilla. It calmed the angry wolf inside his head. It grounded him.

Rue tossed the dirty rag into the basin. She picked up a small tube of healing cream. She rubbed a tiny amount onto her fingertips. She smoothed it over the cut on his jaw.

Onyx swallowed hard. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.

“You’re a mess,” Rue whispered.

“I know,” Onyx rasped. His voice sounded like grinding rocks. He kept his voice low so Axel wouldn’t hear him. “I lost control.”

“You scared the kids,” Rue told him. She didn’t say it to be mean. She just stated the facts.

“I know,” Onyx repeated. He looked away again. The shame washed over him.

Rue wiped her hands on a dry towel. She picked up the tin basin. She stood up from the dirt floor. She planned to walk away. She planned to leave them both in the cold barn to think about their bad choices. She needed a hot shower. She wanted to crawl into her warm bed and forget this night ever happened.

Onyx moved fast.

He reached out. He wrapped his large, rough hand around her delicate wrist.

He didn’t squeeze hard. He just held her. His grip felt warm against the freezing barn air.

Rue stopped. She looked down at him.

Onyx kept his dark eyes locked on hers. The guilt still swam in his gaze, mixed with something much deeper. He looked desperate. He needed her to understand. He wasn’t a monster. He just didn’t know how to exist in a normal, quiet world. He spent his whole life fighting for scraps in the dark.

Onyx grabs her wrist gently before she leaves. “I am actually not a bad person,” he whispers.