Requited

Some names are a legacy. Mine might be a warning.

My name is Gerwalta Faust—like the girl in the true version of Red Riding Hood. The one who loved a werewolf, and died for it.

I was raised to do better. To lead the House of Red with strength, to guard the boundaries between worlds, and to never, ever fall for a wolf. But then Cody came along—steadfast, defiant, and more dangerous to my heart than anyone I've ever known.

Now I’m forced to choose between the future I was born for and the love I never expected. But maybe the story doesn’t have to end the way it always has.

Requited is a myth-infused urban fantasy prequel to The Red Chronicles, perfect for readers who love fierce heroines, forbidden love, and fairy tales rewritten with heart.

onight, the harvest
moon would rise to tempt those who walked the night into its light.
IN ANOTHER THREE DAMNED HOURS. I still had nine minutes of my shift left, minutes which felt like sandbags. On the other side of the hour lay freedom, dancing, fires, and clan chanting. So much chanting. Too much. I looked at the Reagan-era clock that hung over my desk inside the ranger booth and grabbed the walkie from its charger on the window ledge.
“What do you want, Jeri?”
“No one else is coming in. You and I both know this.”
The speaker registered a few clicks before the main office hailed back. “The second we say okay to you closing early is the second Joe Detroit and his two-point-five kids roll in and want a campsite for the night.”
I pressed the send button and my luck. “It’s after Labor Day, Rick. The two-point-five kids are back in school and Joe Detroit is working a double at the stamping plant. Besides, it’s freezing out. No one is going to want to get out of their cars and stare at a waterfall when it’s this cold.”
“It’s Michigan, kid. You know how the camp crowd is. Neither rain nor sleet nor common fucking sense...”
The silent buffer filled the space between us.
Finally, I heard a click over the radio when my boss hit the send button. “Look, Red, if you want to leave early, just say ‘I want to leave early, Rick.’”
“I want to leave early, Rick. You know you do too.”
He groaned over the air, and I could practically picture his scruffy face crunching from the annoying reminder of how the moon pulled us both: me to my clan, and he to his pack.
“I guess you could...”
I didn’t hear the rest. With speed that would have shocked a hummingbird, I had the shade down, the RANGER STAND CLOSED sign out, and my backpack slung over my shoulder. By the time I crossed the parking lot and entered the gift shop through the employee’s entrance, Rick had shut down the main office too. Guess Joe Detroit was S.O.L. if he decided to show.
I quirked an eyebrow. By-the-regulations Rick wasn’t the type to close-up shop early. A moment later, a scent on the breeze gave away the reason, but I played along. “Have I been that much of a bad influence on you?”
“Your mother was worried it was going to be the other way around, if I recall.” He jerked his head towards the breakroom door. “I know you said you didn’t want us to do anything, but you knew we weren’t going to listen, right? It’s not every day we send one of our kids off to the big city to go to school.”
My hands flew up. “Shhhh!” Sneaking past him, I snuck a look around the edge of the door and tried to figure out based on sound and smell who was in the breakroom. My senses might pale in comparison to Rick’s, but I knew this landscape well. If someone uncommon was on the premises, I’d pick it up.
Three bodies, all human. All other workers at the state park. None of them my mother’s informants.
Rick wore a know-it-all smile when I shrank back into view. “Still haven’t told her yet, huh?”
“You know what my mom is like, and how pissed off she’s going to be. I already get enough flack for me and Cody being friends.”
“Friends? Is that what you kids are calling it these days?” Unconsciously, he crossed an arm over his chest and rubbed his opposite upper arm. “Don’t take this the wrong way, kiddo, but I don’t think I’ve ever met another woman more befitting of the name Brünhild.”
“Amen to that.”