Lane had released Remy and Luce from their
confinement in the kitchen. Their sorrow filled whines as they looked upon the
lifeless figure of their owner, sniffing at the blood that stained the floor,
nudging his arm as if he'd wake, just about caused my withering heart to die. I
felt like I had failed them and I found it hard to look into those eyes without
looking away in disgrace.
Carver had not moved from my side and I
found I appreciated his presence while I wallowed, no one wants to fall so far
alone and my misery sure loved company.
"You left me. All those years Carver,
how do I move on from this?" My voice was quiet and strained, so many
tears had left my throat raw. I'd seen such a pretty future for a moment, at
times just for Sam and I, two dogs bounding along as we walked those woods
surrounding his cabin. Once or twice I'd seen Carver, perhaps before the
marking when we'd had some kind of understanding, maybe even after when I found
myself looking at his glorious strength and realising under all my blame and
mistrust there was a part that could have forced such hard won forgiveness, if
only I allowed myself to.
He sighed as if the world sat heavy on his
shoulders, maybe with the thought that I'd been told his mistakes before he'd
had the chance to reveal them. "I don't know cherry. I hope you know that
I only ever wanted to do right by you, I just wanted to give you time." He
shook his head and stared at the mark on my shoulder as if he couldn't quite
meet my eyes. "I'm sick with the thought that I left you there; I'll never
forgive myself for that, and so I don't know how I expect you to."
Something settled inside me, a blanket of
calm trapping the storm that used to rise so quickly."You didn't know...I
understand that, I just..." I was finding it rather hard to explain myself
without my normal accusations, it seems without blame I was somewhat lost for
words. "...I've wanted to destroy everyone who had a part in this for so
long, how do I just let it go?"
It's not like I expected a response, it was
me working it through in my own mind, how to let go of everything that made me
what I was. I had decisions to make and I was wavering between options. I could
leave and never return, ignore the bond between us and attempt to push passed
the incessant need that would eventually claw at me to return. I could submerge
myself in revenge once more, open up and let the darkness in, kill the bond
that I hadn't wanted from the start, if I could get passed the wolf's instinct
to keep her mate breathing. Or I could listen to Sam one last time and give the
Captain a chance, maybe his first real chance with a woman not so focused on
killing her past.
Carver stood from the bed we sat on
watching two dogs say goodbye to Sam. He walked towards the door and looked
back before leaving the room, "We need to give him a proper burial, I'll
get some men to help with his body."
I nodded my head, knowing that I couldn't
just sit here forever staring at Sam’s figure on the floor. He hesitated at the
door once more and I looked up when I didn't hear him leave.
"My life for yours Arya."
I frowned at him, not quite understanding
what he meant.
"Whatever you decide I'll be following
you. If you decide you need my life....so be it."
He smiled a little at me, it was a
wavering, poor effort on his usual but one that made me believe he truly meant
his offer. He left to retrieve guards, ones that would carry Sam to his final
resting place. I moved from the bed to sit on the floor, creeping slowly
towards Remy and Luce, hoping they'd accept my apologies, worried that they'd
snap at me and I'd lose them forever too.
Loss is such an odd concept, one I thought
I'd seen enough of. I'd revelled in my hate for many years, enjoyed every
moment of hacking Daniel apart, had been so adamant in my right of retribution.
Had thought forgiveness a weakness and a mentality that I wasn't able to
embrace. Perhaps this is what I stir, a boiling cauldron of ruthless reprisal
that simmers and stews...breeds nothing but more hate and contempt. Perhaps
this is what I've done; engendered the black beast of ill will to return full
circle and cast it's own retribution upon me. I could continue this circle,
feed my own anger with more, I'm sure in time it will rise again and take over
this numb melancholy that currently resides within. But what else am I prepared
to lose? Should I continue on this path, a vigilante of torment, reaping my way
through the wolf population, finding fault in all who challenge me?
What am I prepared to lose?
Certainly not the dogs that slowly wiggled
their way across the floor to find comfort in my frozen figure. Dogs that left
their vigil by their owners side to cuddle into mine in our shared grief. Dogs
that were now
mine.
And maybe I'm not prepared to lose Carver
either, however many mistakes he'd made so far, he was still and always would
be my most ardent supporter. However crazy I became, however violent, it seemed
he'd never turn me away. It was a freeing feeling, to know that I could succumb
to the madness that forever lingered on the periphery and he would still want
me. That I could find bliss in bloodshed and serenity in atrocity and he would
always just wait on the sidelines and clean me up afterwards. It was like I
could do no wrong, even when I was without doubt misguided. I liked the
feeling; he put me on a pedestal, despite my....
Unusual
personality, and
I doubt that, at least in his eyes, I'd ever fall off.
Two guards knocked on the door and bowed
slightly to me as I nodded at them to enter. I stood from the floor and put a
hand on each dog, leading them away from Sam. I gripped Luce tighter when he
growled at the guards lifting Sam and carrying him away. I put my head to his
as a final tear slipped passed my closed lids and whispered in his ear.
"
I'm sorry.
"
There was a lot for me to apologise for; my
selfishness, my lack of foresight. I hoped to spend a long time making it up to
them, hoped to give them at least a life where they could be happy, if not the
one they wanted.
Lane returned to the room as the guards
left with their offer to the moon, a return of one of her finest.
"You ready?"
I looked up to his haunting eyes and took a
deep, life affirming breath. It made me notice something...I was still alive,
despite a few attempts to the contrary, and I should be thankful. I could not
waste this gift, I may dislike fate and her many games but she'd bowed enough
to leave me breathing, and I'd not throw away something that had been so easily
taken from Sam.
I nodded at Lane and stood with the two animals
beside me, taking up the detail on my protection. They were slower, slightly
more damaged, but still as solid as ever. We formed a weathered group walking
to the burial site, no doubt Carver had organised a glorious funeral for the
man that touched so many souls.
I flicked my eyes to the blonde so quiet
beside me, his steps gliding over the gravel that should have crunched beneath
his weight. "When are you leaving?"
He stared at the ground as he spoke,
"after the funeral...I'll visit the pack first, sort out some
things...then leave to find him."
I couldn't imagine the despair he felt at
running his own pseudo family to the ground and so I asked the question I'd
wondered ever since he'd offered."Why you Lane? You could have just let
Charlie go."
He shook his head and smiled a little,
"Charlie needs to be here. Think Carver wants to be free...to follow one
little redhead."
I rolled my eyes at him and his grin
widened, it was almost a real one, the first I'd seen from him all morning.
His eyes lit up for a moment and his grin
turned feral. "Besides Duncan’s a hell...of a fighter. Be interesting
which...one of us comes back."
I couldn't help the laugh that burst from
my lips, even when faced with the prospect of killing the man he called
'brother', the blonde was excited about the challenge.
I saw Carver standing tall on a raised
block as we neared the forest my wolf had spent so much time in. Guards were
gathered in a circle around him and a hole had been dug in the ground. I liked
the position, it was circled by a group of Weeping willows, trees that swept
the floor in a graceful arc when the spring came in full bloom. Nature's
servants bowing to the man even in death.
I stood in the centre with the dogs sat
mournfully beside me as Sam’s body was lowered to the ground. Both Carver and
Lane said beautiful words as his body was gently placed, Charlie laying the
dirt to cover him in peace. I didn't hear the words they said, I didn't comment
when Carver asked if I'd like to add my piece, I was happy just watching in
silence, I'd already said my last words and they had been for his ears only.
As the guard bowed to Sam’s grave and
filtered off I was eventually left standing with only Carver.
"Have you thought about what you'd
like to do from here?" His gravelly voice still thrilled me and I was left
wondering if I'd ever tire of that sound.
"Yes I have." I heard his breath
catch in his throat as he waited for my thoughts. "Did you fix Sam's cabin
after?"
He grunted out a "yes," and I
smiled at his wolf forcing itself to the surface. "I'm going to take the
dogs home Carver, I want to go back to that place, I miss it."
I caught him nodding sadly out of the
corner of my eye, I suppose he didn't like his lack of inclusion in my future
so far. I turned and started walking back to the house to pack, I had no
intention of hanging around, I felt a strong urge to return to the place I
considered home. I looked back at the giant man staring after me with such
sorrow on his face I couldn't keep the smile to myself any longer.
"If you're going to follow me you
might want to be quick about it...I won't wait around for long."
I caught his grin as I turned and walked
quickly to the house, urging the dogs to pick up the pace as excitement filled
me.
A little bit of anticipation.
A game of chase between mates who needed to
forget the real world for a moment and begin again.
There
was perhaps one time in my entire life that I remember feeling like this. It
was maybe ten years ago, when I'd walked into the kitchen of the family home to
see my parents in an embrace of what could only be considered unending love,
the kind where you're considered the intruder to someone else's blissful
moment. A watcher to something you neither understood nor could imagine for yourself.
Sam’s
rusty old cabin had been given quite the spit polish. All that hard wood that
had been so prevalent had been replaced by a mixture of materials. The floor
had remained solid oak yet the planks had been waxed and shined to a glossy
finish. The walls had panels of cream and grey sandstone tiles and it gave the
previously rustic cabin a rather modern look. I had wondered for a moment if
Sam had picked this out himself. It just hadn't seemed to mesh with the idea
I'd had of him. He had always been more of the rugged and rough type, kind of
like the trees that stood proudly in the surrounding wood, ones that had stood
the test of time and stoically weathered wars and famine like wizened old men.
This....well it just hadn't matched the Sam I'd known.
I'd
dropped my bags on that polished floor two months ago. I'd taken Sam's bedroom,
I felt the need to sleep surrounded by his scent, it was a familiar blanket of
comfort. The dogs had latched onto me and refused to let go, as if they were
afraid I'd disappear too. Luce was a particular surprise, not only was he never
a foot away from me, he had also taken to sleeping beside Remy...that of course
meant I was consistently sandwiched between two overgrown animals who snored
like grumpy old men.
I'd
spent my days since walking the woods with those dogs, either in human or wolf
form. At night I'd light a fire in the newly refurbished grate beneath a
solidly built chimney that pulled the smoke out in puffs of dragon's breath.
It
was a frost covered winter, one that froze the forest in an eerie stillness, an
abandoned town of ghostly bared branches dripping daggers of ice to the barren
landscape. It was a simple existence, one that I found sort of wonderful for
its undemanding days and quiet nights.
I
learned to cook for myself, packages of food were regularly left on the porch
and I took full advantage of the gift. After one night, when I'd taken the
single bottle I'd found remaining in the kitchen and poured a glass to take to
those old rocking chairs that still creaked on the front porch, those packages
never failed to contain a bottle of the good stuff. I'd sit in silence, the
flickering amber from the fire and lights from the living room casting a faint
glow over the tree line, picking out my watcher in the woods as he paced back
and fore until I settled in with that glass of gold.
I'd
not allowed Carver entry into my new world when he'd followed me to the cabin.
We'd spent a day chasing each other, scenting the trails we'd both left,
marking the ground and leaving our signature, a map for the hunter to track.
His wolf had been victorious, as was his nature, and I'd been caught only
minutes from the cabin. Both wolves had rolled in each others scent, begun a
dance that would eventually have led to acceptance. The sound of the dogs
arriving in Charlie's truck had been the moment I was snapped out of my wolf's
playful mind. I'd turned my back on Carver and his wolf and made my escape
indoors, hidden away from spontaneous mistakes, avoiding taking things further
than I'd meant to. I'd closed the door on him and locked myself away in the
privacy of Sam's memory and the feeling that I wasn't ready for him to encroach
so completely. I'd still been angry, over the lies and the marking and maybe a
little over him trusting Duncan with Sam when he'd promised me nothing would
happen to that old man. It may have been unfair to blame him for something out
of his control, but me and blame were the best of friends and it was hard to
let that go when so much of my original soul had been replaced by censure.
He
spent the following week camped out on the porch, an eight and a half foot wolf
laying across my doorstep, a ridiculous trip hazard should I have ventured
outside. He hunted for food when darkness fell, far away and closer to
civilisation, on land already claimed by humans with large holdings, farms that
would miss quite a few of their cattle on these wintry nights.
It
was one such evening, when I felt the bond tug as he moved further away then
was comfortable, that I took Sam's last bottle of whiskey and sat on the porch
till he returned. It became a nightly thing; that I would sit and think while
he prowled the tree line, and at least it got him off my porch.
Sometimes
I'd talk to him, tell him all the things I couldn't have said to his human
face, the one that could have responded and strayed my thoughts with that
honeyed voice. His wolf was quiet, only rumbling every so often when I said
words he didn't like, but he listened and I found the animal easier to talk to
then the man. There was only one night I allowed him to creep forward; the
night I told him of my fears for the future, that I was unsure how to proceed
in a relationship that would involve intimacies I'd been stripped of. How I
loathed the thought, not of the actual act of sex, but the possibility that I'd
be unable to do it. I could no longer stand the thought of being weak, I would
hate to think Daniel had forever made me into a person that couldn't enjoy
something that was supposed to be beautiful. That my fears would override my
pleasure was a constant barrier that I could not step over. And this is where I
am now, at that point between decisions. I can either force that step and maybe
have some understanding of the kind of love my parents had known, that Sam had
known, or I can continue to fear, to allow trepidation to swallow my pride.
It
was with great surprise that I felt the first stirrings. Christmas was just
around the corner, a time of year I'd missed so heavily in the early months of
my imprisonment, one that had always seemed a celebration that eclipsed all
petty arguments and replaced them with a childish kind of awe. I'd spent so
long without my mother, the women that should have passed this information
along, that I was nothing but confused for the first day. Of course every child
was taught from a young age the basics of what followed the first shift, after
all they were curious little beings and would always wonder why humans had
different birthdays to them. Like every werewolf, I'd been born in the spring
and I remember the first time I'd met a human child whose birthday had fallen
in November. The conversation I'd had with my mother had been understood with a
child's mind and yet, it served to give me some sort of understanding now.
When
the evening came I sat on the porch as usual, only this time I saw the ravenous
hunger in Carver's wolf as soon as I locked eyes with him after the draw his
scent had become. I felt drugged on the very smell of him, drunk on alcohol
that produced an after-burn of the exquisite taste of cinnamon. It took a
moment for me to realise what was happening, that the itching need for
something I'd felt all day was not restlessness, but a craving for something
only he could provide.
There
was a reason female wolves shifted a lot later than males; puberty and
adulthood needed to happen to both halves of the soul before they could handle
such intensity. With late December came the animal's breeding season, a period
for females to tease and lure unsuspecting males into their wicked webs. An
un-mated female would simply smell like sex to any male, an attempt to attract
her mate. A mated one however, a wolf like me, would smell fertile; an
unavoidable draw for the male, like blood to a starving vampire and an oasis in
the Sahara to the Desert's victim.
He
stalked his way across the frozen ground, his wolf on hands and knees crawling
towards his sighted prey. I didn't even think to stop him at that moment, so
caught in his smell, my own wolf reacting to the male that grew only more
appealing with each second that passed. I could not take my eyes off the beast
that prowled, my heart pounding it's agreement, my stomach fluttering as his
heavy arms pulled his solid frame ever forward.
I
ached.
In a way I'd never before felt, something utterly new and
enticing. I knew what I wanted, but in my ignorance I wasn't sure how to get
it. My wolf had an idea though...she pranced around inside me, turned her back
to the male stalking her and lifted her butt in the air, waving it around in a
clumsy attempt to seduce. I rolled my eyes at her, she was as inept in this
situation as I was.
Carver's
wolf reached the porch steps, hands displaying claws that dug gouges into the
newly painted wood. Rumbles of satisfaction left his chest and his nose tipped
high as he took great pulling breaths of the air around me, scenting the
glorious, heavy aroma that only increased as he neared. I panted in my seat,
not quite sure of what I should be doing right now. Sweat beaded and broke,
running lines of need down heated skin. I saw a flicker in his eyes, a little
bit of charcoal on ebony, a subtle difference that was only highlighted in
shimmers from the glow of fire.
The
wolf shook his head back and fore, as if trying to rid himself of the smell
that called a sirens song to both the man and the animal. In the second it took
to flick my eyes from his face to the member engorged and unsheathed at his
groin, he was gone.
As
if hell hounds were on his tail, he leaped and sprinted for the woods, frost
spraying in his wake like smoke from flaming footsteps. I sat stupefied for
several minutes, my wolf staring at the empty space before her with her jaw
hanging down, aghast at the male who'd denied her. I'd gained some previously
lacking control in these months, working daily to push the beast forward only
to pull her back again. I was rather grateful for my foresight right now. She
quickly became vengeful, pushing and clawing at me to change so she could chase
after him, knock the giant beast down and drag him back to her den.
I
was somewhat unnerved by her ferocious libido.
I
sat still for moments longer, denying the animal her freedom, frowning at the
steps he'd vacated. I pondered for almost half an hour, a stillness invading my
body as I came to the conclusion that the man had forced the wolf away. Maybe
he wasn't sure of my decision, perhaps he hadn't wanted to push for something
I'd only regret in the morning.
He
was wrong.
Once
I'd realised exactly what was happening I was infinitely happier then what I'd
started this day as. Not only would this first season push me passed that
barrier that stood blocking my way, I was also so much more confident with the
changes in my reactions. This heat would take over my body completely until it
was fully satisfied.
I could do this.
While in the throes of this take
over, I wouldn't be worrying about what he was doing, I wouldn't be thinking
about my previous life. The only thing that would matter is satisfying the
craving. I was so incredibly happy I had a permanent smile that replaced the
normal frown.
I
stood quickly from the rocking chair and spun into the cabin. The night was
almost freezing in its intensity but my skin was radiating it's own warmth. I
stripped the clothes I wore down to my underwear and threw them in a pile on
the sofa. I returned to the rocking chair to wait, the frost clean and cooling
on my skin. I wouldn't have to wait all night, that wolf would not leave me
alone for long.
He
managed around an hour before he was forced to return, if only to see that I
was still perfectly well in his absence. He came through the tree line as
human, perhaps hoping he would be less affected in this form. He stopped
walking maybe six feet from where I sat, a groan leaving his lips as he took in
my under-dressed state. He remained shirtless though he'd pulled on trousers
from the stash he kept somewhere within the forest.
"What
are you doing cherry?" His voice was deep and husky, a little from the
months of not using it and mostly from the smell that still emanated from me.
I
smiled at him, one that truly meant to convey my feelings. "I made a
choice."
His
eyes impossibly darkened and I shivered, a reaction that had nothing to do with
the freezing temperatures.
"You're
in heat." He replied as if he was trying to make sure I understood the
reason I felt this way.
"I
know that Carver, I'm glad."
He
frowned at me and it only made my smile grow. "I want to move
forward..." I doubt he could have stopped the smile that spread across his
face. "...this is a good thing, I can stop thinking about what might go
wrong and just go with it."
He
took a giant step forward before halting yet again as if he couldn't convince
himself that I knew what I was doing."Are you sure? I don't want you to
regret this in the morning."
I
laughed at his words, how alike my own conclusions they were. I stood from the
chair and made my way across frozen wooden planks to even more frozen steps.
The cold numbed my feet, the only part of me it seemed not on fire. I think he
noticed rather quickly that my feet were starting to turn blue and soon flew
across the remaining land to pull me into his arms, a new warmth that seemed
even hotter than my own.
He
carried me back into the cabin, a look on his face I could now understand, one
that projected only pure thoughts of love and appreciation. It was something
I'd seen so often on his features but my vision had been too clouded to see
clearly.