The
process of calming down my bristling other half took a good couple of hours. I
wasn’t entirely sure what had gotten her so conflicted in the first place. The best
I could work out from the feelings swirling through her was that she couldn't
quite make up her mind on whether or not to kill that Captain. I personally
think she might be slightly overestimating her abilities.
There
seemed to be a block between us that interrupted the synergy between human and
wolf; that perfect bond of two entities of conscious thought within one ever
shifting package.
By
the time we'd run close to twenty miles we were somewhat at an impasse. She
couldn't keep running forever and I kept pushing at her to go back for Sam. I
didn't expect to save us both, but maybe they would let Sam go if I returned,
and that, would be good enough for me.
In
the end, that was all it took. The idea of losing Sam, a big part of her slowly
forming, unconventional pack. As hot-headed as she was, neither of us were
willing to sacrifice him. That sneaky old-timer seemed to of taken a little bit
of her heart too.
When
she finally turned back it was with great irritation and uneasiness, she ambled
more than ran but at least it was in the right direction. I was concerned about
what I would find when I got there, for a centuries old wolf, born and
fashioned in discipline and order, that Captain had the worst control I'd ever
seen.
Our
whole existence had been made to be suffocated in control. Endless training of
shifting at will, management of emotion, manipulation of thought until the
wildness slowly departed the wolf, leaving a muzzled house pet in place of raw,
unbridled pride and repletion. Such abject waste.
I
would not be controlled ever again. I revelled in that uncivilised,
uncultivated, vicious animal. We were wolves; we were not meant to be tamed.
On
reaching the clearing just before the cabin, I was immensely surprised to find
it wolf free. Although, those guards had many years experience on me; I could
very well have been completely surrounded.
My
wolf gave a high pitched howl, a call to a member of her pack. I had a moment
of utter fear that it would go unanswered.
The
cabin door opened and a robe appeared first, attached to a rough, marginally
wrinkled hand.
A
breath escaped in a puff of air. A little bit of relief from both the human and
the animal. His wide grin appeared next and I leapt at the robe he carried, my
wolf finally anxious to release my body back to me.
"You
alrigh' there, girlie?"
The
shift was sort of exhilarating, a seamless transition from one form to another,
a harmony of spirit.
"Me?
Am I alright? God Sam, I'm sorry, I couldn't stop her. What happened?"
"Now
dun you worry, figured she took ova'....."He raised a hand and scrubbed at
the back of his neck, a rather suspicious sheepish look if ever I saw one.
".... We should talk a while, on tha porch. Sit, I get sum whisky, think
ya goin' need it."
I
narrowed my eyes at his retreating back, broad shoulders stiff and
uncomfortable. I sat in one of the rickety old chairs and waited for the
inevitable drop, a sinking feeling filling my gut, the man looked bothered. I
was obviously in trouble.
I
stared at the surrounding forest, a maze of old, wizened, beaten down hardwood.
Trying to find evidence of hidden wolves between the dancing leaves. The clink
of glasses preceded Sam’s soft footsteps. A burst of light through the crystal
tumblers, pouring gold coloured glitter over the mid morning vista.
He
sat beside me and handed me a large measure. Things were already looking worse.
He sighed in pleasure as he took a long draught, I sipped at mine saving the
mouthfuls for when I needed it.
"So,
seems ya goin' back wit' them guards when they leave."
I
snapped my head to look at him. "What?"
He
rubbed that neck again and my stomach got lower and lower. "Uh well, good
thing is you dun got no problems wit' tha Alpha no more. Pack won't say much
bout' it now."
"What,
they called the guards off?"
I
think I saw him start to sweat. "Well no, no' exactly."
"Dammit,
Sam what's going on?"
"Bugga',"
he exclaimed and turned to face me. I cringed at his expression, it was
probably the first time I'd ever seen him without a little smile on his face.
"Captain won' let them say nuthin' no more. He protect wha' his ya
see..."
No
I didn't see, I didn't see at all. I started breathing harder, my lungs working
to take that precious oxygen inside. "Sam? What are you....shit....what
the hell are you saying?"
He
blew out his cheeks and put a large hand on my arm. "You his, girlie. And
he ain't leavin' withou' ya."
I
wasn't aware until that moment that hyperventilating was still possible as a
wolf. I had thought that all human weakness, all inadequacies, all those
emotional problems that manifest so tragically as physical disabilities would
just cease to exist. I was so very wrong.
I
began to laugh. A rather maniacal, hysterical laugh that produced unwanted
tears falling freely and unobstructed.
I
sat in a rickety old chair, denying it to my very soul, falsely accusing my
new found friend of lies and misconceptions. I hoped, more than ever before,
that someone was playing a rather cruel, inappropriate joke.
Fate
was twisted, I knew that well. She laughed at me regularly, I seemed to be her
favourite game. But this, this was too far.
"No."
"Huh?
Watcha mean no?"
'I
mean no, Sam. I can't do this, he's wrong. He
has
to be wrong." I
heard a cracking from inside the cabin, the sound of wood breaking under force.
"Sam...where
is he right now?" I asked quietly, my hysteria grounding to a halt.
I'm
pretty sure the old man blushed a little. "Uh...he um....he inside."
He immediately took a large swallow of his whiskey.
"What.
Is. He. Doing. Inside?"I hissed back.
"Well,
he waitin'. Sent his guards on ahead ta get tha vehicles, figured ya may be a
tad tired afta' all tha runnin'." He glanced to the cabin and lowered his
voice, "We dun got a whole lotta choice righ' now. Tha' man ain't moving.
He been waitin' all mornin', can' even get ta my gun 'cos he in tha damn way
all tha time.'
I
felt that stirring in my gut again. Yes, she might be tired, but she was no
happier than I right now. Her eyes flared bright inside my head, a glaring
stare of fierce disagreement. A rumble of displeasure in my chest enforced her
opinion. We had no time for such childish notions.
"Could
you do something for me, Sam?"
"Uhuh,
sure can."
"Will
you please tell that over grown ape that I will not be going anywhere with him,
and he's severely delusional if he believes otherwise."
Sam
let out a bellowing chuckle, it sounded like a symphony when more of that
cracking sound came from inside.
"Girlie
you crazy, ya can tell him ya damn self."
I
huffed into my glass and rolled my eyes. "Don’t even know why I came back
for you."
His
chuckle was a soothing balm to my nerves."Yeah, yeah. I knew you was
comin', never had a doubt."
We
sat in silence for several moments, each one contemplating the inevitable
change to what had quickly been turning into a crutch. A support system more unique
and varied than anything a professional could have imagined.
"I
can't do it Sam," I whispered. "I'm just not made that way. I'd
crumble beneath him, it's the one thing me and my wolf are in complete
agreement about; we have nothing left to give."
Sam
put a long arm over the back of the chair and I lent back to rest against that
quiet strength.
"Dun
need ta be nuthin' righ' now. The man can wait, he been waitin' a long time
already, centuries even, ya think he can' wait no more?" His rough hand
passed a couple of times over my hair, a soothing touch I found I'd missed.
"You got lots ta give, I know, I seen it. Ya jus' lost it somewhere along
tha way, when ya done all ya need ta, you find it jus' fine."
A
stray tear wound it's way down my cheek. A part of me wished that were true,
that Sam’s faith would be rewarded. I couldn't force the same belief, it seemed
so far away I couldn't even catch a glimpse on the horizon.
"No
tears girlie, always works ou' in tha end. Besides I ain't leavin' ya alone
wit' him, we all comin' too." His little squeeze of my shoulders brought a
secret smile to my lips.
"Really?
You won't leave me?"
"No
chance, ya stuck wit' me an' them dogs fo' a good while yet."
We
sat staring at that forest, his arm loose on my shoulders. That place had
brought such changes; a life begun again, a life shifted and now a life of the
unknown.
"Hey,
Sam?"
"Yeah,
girlie?"
"What's
that damn Captains name?"
His
deep, throaty laugh swallowed the quiet air.
"
'Captain' get real borin' real quick, huh? His name's Carver."
Hesitation
is a wonderful thing. It allows that breath before you leap and that moment of
clarity before chaos; that juncture between serenity and tempest.
My
reluctant stand on the porch before the front door was an exercise in self
restraint. In forcing myself to move forward when all my feet wanted to do was
flee. It's a most peculiar sensation, knowing that a few steps through that
door would set in motion a fate I, not only wasn’t ready for but, also one that
I whole heartedly believed wasn’t something I was capable of. There was a
beautiful reasoning behind this; too empty to fulfil someone else's needs, too
much space given to retribution to be someone else's pardon. If there was one
thing that this Captain could be assured of it was that I didn't need to be
fixed. Broken was relative: am I broken if I choose to live? Am I broken if I
determine one path over another? The right Road is some other persons therapy
and I choose reparation over forgiveness.
Sam
got impatient pretty quickly. His shove at my back was a grossly unnecessary
hint. I huffed at his grin and turned the handle leading to my downfall.
The
scene that greeted me was completely unexpected. The living room had been
utterly demolished. The small sofa I had never sat on, the coffee table in the
corner, the bookshelf and side cabinet in pieces littered on the floor. There
were scratches spread wide and plentiful decorating the walls, and broken
floorboards leaving deep trenches leading through to the kitchen.
"Interesting.
What happened to your cabin, Sam?"
Sam
snorted behind me, "Oh, your Captain Carver happen'."
I
sighed in the knowledge that this was now going to be a thing; 'my Captain
Carver'.
"Well
I'd apologise, but he's not mine to apologise for."
A
thud and resounding crash came from the kitchen.
"Think
ya owe me a new chair, tha' one was all on you."
I
sighed; I had a feeling I'd be doing that a lot more.
I
moved slowly to the kitchen, more such devastation making itself known. The
table was in half, several chairs were now scraps of firewood on the dented
ground. As I rounded the wall separating the two rooms I found the kitchen
counter missing vital parts of its construction.
"Well,
shit." I exclaimed.
"Yeah.
He weren' overly happy 'bout ya little run."
"Still,
bit extreme isn't it?"
Sam
shrugged, "probly. I'll get me a bran' new cabin tho', one o' them fancy
ones wit' them designer furnitures." He rubbed his hands together,
"might even get sum o' tha'
luxury floorin',"
he chuckled and
smirked my way, "ya new boyfrien' loaded."
I
rolled my eyes and ignored the boyfriend comment.
The
man came into view as we ventured further into the devastated kitchen. He stood
in human skin at the sink, steel encased in worn jeans and soft cotton. Hands
clenched around the porcelain rim. Seven and a half feet of brawn and might, a
primitive savage in a mask of modern. Black eyes and matching hair, an alluring
picture of dark and light, hard and carved in an idols image; an avenging angel
of demonic proportions.
I
blew a breath through my cheeks.
And I had thought the Alpha was large...
He
looked different to what he had to a twelve year old. I guess that's normal, I
had taken no notice of the way he looked so overwhelmed by that radiating
presence. His body was tense, a bunching of muscle so compressed it seemed
impossible that it could also release. That wolf was riding the man hard.
I
took in a breath, I felt like I hadn't had that essential body function since
I'd stepped into the cabin, an inhalation that fed the blood. A distracting
scent of cinnamon followed the glorious air. I hated that I loved the smell of
cinnamon.
My
wolf proved once again she lacked that basic survival instinct and threw a
rumble of distaste his way. His answering snarl was hiked up a level with a
curl of his lip.
She
was not impressed. Her stare-down was an issue of intent.
Sam
coughed loudly in the thickening room. "Well, let's no' start tha' again.
Sit girlie, sure we still have sum mugs left ta make sum coffee, sum whisky go
nice wit' it..." he looked at those bulging arms hanging onto the sink.
"... A whole lotta whisky."
Sam
and I sat on the floor, we turned over a couple of broken chairs and found the
seats still somewhat intact – or at least enough to perch on. Carver stayed
behind the counter, a barrier between us. If I attempted to be honest with
myself I could admit to appreciating his restraint. But honesty was another
relativity and depended on willingness to see passed the block of anger,
frustration and denial.
"So,
when we leavin' Captain?"
His
gruff voice was harsh and gravelly, almost painful to hear that deep roughness
coming from his throat, "It's Carver, Samuel you know that."
Sam
grinned at the man." Yeah tha' I do, but ya keep callin' me Samuel and I
got lots o' nicknames fo' ya."
Carver
rolled his eyes, seems Sam has that effect on everyone. "The cars should
be here in an hour. You should pack, we'll be leaving as soon as they
arrive." His black eyes turned to me, "Arya, would you like any
help?"
The
words seemed forced, as if he was covering his brute with politeness and that
roughness slid down my spine. "No, I'm perfectly capable of packing a few
pairs of jeans, thank you all the same."
He
clenched his jaw until his teeth ground and his lips turned white. I quite
enjoyed this forced politeness.
"Do
you have enough clothes or do we need to stop on the way?"
If
I didn't feel comfortable with being in the same room as him I'm certainly not
comfortable accepting clothes from the man. "I'm fine with what I
have."
Sam
snorted," We stoppin' on tha way. Didn' have much ta start with, now ya
got less, you rather run round naked?"
I
huffed, "we'll stop on the way."
I
fled that kitchen on the pretence of packing as quickly as possible, Sam’s
knowing look didn't escape my attention but I threw a small glare at him and
left anyway. Just because my wolf accepted him now, didn't mean she wouldn't
take a bite out of his leg if he kept meddling.
I
grabbed the few jeans I now owned, the shirts and jumpers were added to the
small pile....and I was done....so much for taking my time packing.
I
sat on the cot I'd spent that first day in, still ridiculously uncomfortable
but I ran my hand over the covers anyway. I'd miss that cot. It brought
memories of such a different life that I couldn't imagine letting it go so
soon. Such safety wrapped in brittle bonds of creaky iron and flat mattresses.
Such softness in a blooming affinity with a certain brainless mastiff and the
owner that gave me something else to crave; the unexplainable need for another
being.
I
don't suppose even in my darkest hours I'd ever thought I'd need that. I had
been so resolutely alone that not once had I felt that ache that so consumed me
now; of someone else taking up residence in your heart.
So
caught up in the idea of leaving things I didn't want to leave I missed the
quiet presence at the door. His shadow looming over me caught my attention
though. He stood in the doorway peering curiously at my expression.
"You'll
like the house. It has huge bedrooms, king-size beds, much better than that
one."
I
shook my head in denial, not everything that glitters is gold. "No. No
they won't be. This one's perfect."
He
clenched his hands against the door frame but gave a subtle nod. He looked at
my small pile of clothes and let out a sigh."Is that everything?"
I
locked gazes with those hard black pearls, I found it much easier then what I
remembered. "Yes I'm done."
His
wolf rumbled in his chest but he shrugged it off and stepped back from the
doorway, I gave a relieved breath at the space he gave me and squeezed through,
my pile of clothes in my arms between us. I saw Sam waiting in the living room
with a large suitcase opened and half full. The dogs sitting and panting at his
side keeping a watchful eye on the new member of our little troupe. Remy stood
as I came closer and swayed his way towards me. His big head nudged at my legs
and I put a hand on that soft ebony coat as he led me back to Sam.
"Put
them clothes in tha case girlie, see how much room left to fill."
He
wiggled those eyebrows at me. I'm sure he was enjoying how uncomfortable I was
at having Carver buy me things.
The
man himself swooped in and grabbed the suitcase, the large bag looking like a
purse in his massive paws, and led the way towards the oncoming thundering roll
of heavy all terrain vehicles. Five of those ATV'S pulled up in a cloud of
dust, mud and forest waste clinging to the hood and doors.
Carver
stood in front, suitcase in hand. He'd changed at some point, replacing the
jeans and t-shirt with black combat trousers and matching skin-tight top. He
looked like the military man, strong and hard and a force of nature. I stood
behind him with Sam, Remy attached to my side, a little bit of familiar to lean
on.
The
first truck opened its doors and the driver chucked the keys at Carver before
running to the one behind and jumping in the back. As Carver put the bag in and
jumped in the front seat, I tried to beat Sam to the rear door.
"Dun'
think so girlie, age befo' redheads, you in tha front wit' ya man."
I
scowled at that old man. "Fine. But I'm taking the damn dog with me."
I grabbed onto Remy and pushed him in front of me onto the bench seat,
separating myself from the large man driving. Sam’s bellowing laughter cut off
as I slammed the car door.
"Anyone
would think, Arya, that you didn't want to sit next to me." Carvers
gravelly tone creeped under my skin.
"Hm.
Odd that isn't it?"