Birch & Bone

Iron and Fear: Kaspar

The air in Halstatt always tasted of excitement with an underlying sense of fear on this night. Tonight though, there was something else under the sulfur. There was a scent like crushed violets and a dark, simmering defiance.

I had been watching them since they stepped off the train. Four little birds wandering into the wolf’s den. Two of them were unremarkable. A boy in a bright red jacket who smelled of domesticity and a girl clinging to him like a wilted vine. The other two though…they were different. Especially the one with the sharp eyes and a mouth that looked like it was used to saying things that would make a priest cross himself.

Sloane.

I heard her name whispered in the wind as they walked toward their hotel. My ears don’t miss much.

When the parade began, I felt the beast beneath my skin pacing. The chains around my chest weren’t just for show. They were a reminder of the hunger I had to keep in check. I moved through the crowd delivering the expected scares. The rhythmic rattling of the bells was a heartbeat I shared with the earth.

I saw her at the ropes long before I reached her. She wasn’t flinching. While others shrieked and pulled back, giggling afterwards, she stood her ground. She smiled. She taunted and teased. Her dark aesthetic made her look like a shadow that had decided to take on a human form.

Then she leaned in, and I heard the whisper, “You’ll have to try harder than that.”

The insolence of it. The delicious, reckless pride. My blood didn’t just warm, it boiled. I watched her wink at one of the village boys in a wooden mask, and I felt a growl rip through my throat.

Once I was directly in front of her, I stopped. Up close, she was a masterpiece of sin and potential. I could see her pulse jumping in the hollow of her throat. It wasn’t from fear, but from adrenaline. The air around her tasted like invitation. I reached out, claws catching the moonlight. I wanted to see if she would break.

I traced the line of her jaw and her dark lips parted. Her breath hitched in a way that made the beast inside me howl.

I had to move on. The ritual demanded it. As I disappeared into the snow and smoke through, I knew I wasn’t done with her.

After the parade, I caught sight of her and her friends again. I followed them to the Gasthof, but I took my time. When I pushed open the tavern door, the silence that greeted me was familiar and expected. Humans have a primal instinct for predators, they just don’t always know what to call them.

I saw them in the corner, in the round booth. Silas, the boy, boating and preening, Thea curled into his side with a glass of wine. The other girl, Eden, obsessed with her digital reflections, didn’t even look up. Then I saw Sloane. She felt me before she saw me. I watched how her spine stiffened. She remembered the heat.

I ignored the boy’s indignant huff as I approached. He was a sheep bleating at a mountain lion. My focus was entirely on her. She looked like someone who had lived a thousand lives, and regretted nothing.

I leaned down, the shadows of the tavern pooling around us. “I saw you at the ropes. Most people hide their sins when I pass. You practically invited me to see yours.”

“Hey, buddy, the parade’s over, you don’t have to keep up the act,” the boy said, but I ignored him. My gaze locked on hers as I leaned in closer. “Are you going to introduce me to your friends, Sloane?”