The Guardian bride of the werewolf

Isolde's POV A small stone whizzed past me and landed in the sand. Pock... I looked up. Max. He was grinning like he did when he wanted trouble. I ignored him and drew again. If I kept drawing, maybe he would go away. He didn't. He walked over, his feet sinking in the soft sand, and stepped right on my drawing. All of it — gone. My house, my sun, my dog that wouldn't run away. "Stop," I said. My voice was shaking but I didn't want him to hear it. My fingers were dusty. I wiped them on my dress and moved a little away. I started again. My fingers were fast. I was making a new house. A house no one could step on. A house with a big door that only I could open. Then his eyes went mean. The kind of mean that made my stomach hurt. He shoved me. Hard. I fell back into the sand. It got in my hair. In my mouth. I could taste it. I was so angry I didn't think. My chest was hot. I jumped up and pushed him back with both hands. He fell with a loud thud. "Ahh! Ahh!" He started wailing as if I had killed him. Loud, fake crying. He held his arm like it was broken. His mother came running. Her wrapper was flying behind her. "You cursed little brat!" she screamed at me. Her spit almost hit my face. "How dare you lay your cursed hands on my son!" "He pushed me first!" I shouted. My heart was beating so fast I could hear it in my ears. "No, I didn't!" Max lied. He was still on the ground, holding his arm, peeking at me through his fingers. His mother dragged him up. She didn't even look to see if he was hurt. She just glared at me. "You will pay for this, Isolde!" She pulled him away, but I could still hear her shouting about me. Everyone was looking now. Everyone was whispering. The women stopped pounding yam. The kids stopped playing. I couldn't stay there. I ran to the river. My feet were burning on the hot path. I sat on the bank and threw stones into the water just to hear something other than their voices. _Plunk. Plunk._ The water was brown and slow. My hands were still sandy. Sand was stuck under my nails. It itched. I wanted to stay there forever. But the sun went down. The sky turned orange. My stomach growled. I had to go back to my hut. When I got back, she was there. Max's mother. Waiting at my door with her hands on her waist. And behind her, half the village. Holding lamps. Whispering. "You cursed brat! You've cursed my son! He can't raise his hand anymore! He can't raise his hand since you touched him!" She grabbed my arm. Her nails dug in. It hurt. "What do you mean?" My voice was so small. "Leave me alone! You're hurting me!" "What's going on here?" The Chief's voice cut through everyone. He was frowning. He looked tired. Max's mother ran to him. "Chief, it's Max! After his misunderstanding with Isolde, Max can't raise his hand! This girl did it!" Then the whispers started. Like wind in dry leaves. She is cursed. She killed her parents. What an unfortunate child. She should have died with them. My fingers curled. The sand was still under my nails. My eyes burned but I would not cry. Not in front of them. "I hate you all!" I screamed. My voice cracked. I didn't wait. I ran inside my hut. It was empty and cold. I shoved my one dress and my small wooden doll into my bag. My bag was too heavy. I didn't care. I didn't look back at the village that had never been my home.