They Called Me an Abomination and Ordered Me Killed, So I Came Back as the Wolf They Buried novel · Chapter 8 of 24

Chapter 8: Nobody Who Gets to Touch You

Odalie's POV

I moved between them.

I do not remember crossing the gravel.

I remember my own hands, grease-blackened and open, and the old woman's gold crucifix four feet from my face.

"Stop," I said.

Marguerite Thibodeaux stopped.

She looked at me.

She had been the most beautiful woman in the parish when I was a child, and she still had the bones for it.

She smelled of lavender water and church candles.

"Odalie," she said.

"Don't you speak to my son."

"I didn't speak to the boy," I said.

"You called him cher," I said, "and it's not a word you get to use for him."

"It's an endearment," she said.

"Everyone here uses it."

"Not for him," I said.

I did not raise my voice.

"Third term," I said.

"Nobody in your pack touches me or my son, and I'll put it in French if you like.

"That means you don't come up my steps, you don't call him to you, and you don't look at his head."

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