Those upturned hazel eyes.
Gentle, yet with an edge.
That button nose — a perfect centerpiece to compliment her beauty.
Those full upper lips, practically begging to be softly bitten.
And those ridiculous sheep pajamas that, somehow, perfected her entire look… even with her hair wrapped in a towel like some sleepy, smug forest nymph.

Before my imagination could get ahead of me, Jacob’s voice cut through the moment.

“Dad, wasn’t it a bit much to warn them about being outside at night? I mean, I get avoiding the forest — it’s genuinely dangerous — but outside of that, what threat is there besides the usual?
Plus, Skye’s a cop. I’m sure she can handle herself. And from the look of it, so can Elodie.”

It took Billy a while to answer. He was clearly mulling it over — or maybe trying to find the right words.

“Jacob,” he finally said, gently. Then his eyes flicked to me for a brief second before returning to his son. “You know our legends. Our beliefs.
It’s only natural to warn them… especially now that they live on our land.”

Jacob raised a brow.

“You mean about the shi—?”

But before he could finish, Billy cut him off with a look sharp enough to slice. It took Jacob a second to register the implication. Then he glanced sideways at me.

And just like that, irritation crept in.

Ever since I could remember, I’d been banned from hearing our people’s legends.
The best I ever got were Jacob’s half-whispered bits and pieces — like something about our ancestors being badass spirit warriors who could supposedly transform into… I don’t know, some massive animal? It’s been a while.
He also once mentioned something about how we were at war with these… cold things. Or cold people? I forget the term. It never made much sense.

But still, why me?

Why was I the one specifically kept out of all this?
They're just legends. Folktales. As real as the tooth fairy.
That’s what makes it even worse — it’s not just about truth. It’s about being excluded. About being denied something simple. Something I’m owed.

Add that to the strange looks I get from some people — the subtle ones that say you’re not quite one of us — and it gets harder to ignore.

So yeah. I’ve grown a thick skin.
Doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting.

“But aren’t those just folktales, Dad?” Jacob asked.

Billy didn’t meet his eyes.

“You’ll understand when you’re older,” he said. And then he turned and walked into the night.

With nothing else to do, Jacob and I exchanged a look — equal parts skeptical and annoyed — before following behind.