My father had worried so much when I could not be found that he wept. Wept like he did the night my mother died. At least that’s what my grandmother said when she gave me a warm bath afterward.

After a few more times of wandering off over the next few months, my father brought home Vincent. One of the great loves of my life. An old pyre who stood almost seven feet tall and never smiled, not a day in his life. He reminded me of the one who always stood guard outside of Femme Marna’s little torture chamber back when I was a child at the fortress. Except Vincent had a bit more life to his skin and color to his eyes.

He found me, now, in my favorite clearing and, with a tilt of his head, motioned toward the sun as it dipped beneath the treeline.

Of course. Darkness was no place for humans on a night like that one. Though a pyre like Vincent would have his fill of the moonlight once I was safely inside our home.

I was late for dinner. But I was always late for dinner. And my father hardly minded, as long as I was not lost or devoured by animals or frozen to death.

Outside, near the stone steps that led to the grand double doors, I stopped and pulled off my glove, gripping it in my teeth so I could unbraid my hair, which had been tousled by the freezing wind.

“Oh,” a voice said. “It’s you.”

Sam Crawford stood before me. Or rather, stumbled to a stop and then ambled in front of me so I could not ascend the staircase, his freckled cheeks flaming as bright as his red hair. He was taller than me, though we stood as equals when we were young children. His shoulders had filled out since then, and his green eyes stood out from his comely face.

“Aurelie…I did not think you would be out today. It’s one of the coldest nights of the year,” he said.

I did not think it was too cold to be out, or obviously I would not have gone.

Sam noticed Vincent and went from pink to pale in an instant. “Oh…um…I didn’t….” He cleared his throat. “Good evening, Vincent.”

Neither the pyre nor I said anything. It was unusual for a Braun to greet a pyre. Really, no humans gave things such as greetings or courtesies to pyres. Not ever. Of course, except for our family. And friends like Sam, who did so because we did so, and they did not want to be impolite.

Sam did not know what to say since Vincent would not answer him. Truly, could not answer him. And I surely wasn’t going to do the job.

“You…look…healthy?” Sam said to me, going back to fully-flushed again and still blocking me from the steps to the front door.