Ravenwood

by Margaux Gillis

  Elinore glanced over at the bed and then back at Caleb and her eyes darted down his body again and then rushed back up. “I don’t know,” she said honestly.

  “How about, you leave your gown on for now and you can change your mind later if you like.”

  Although she knew she didn’t expressly need his permission, she felt infinitely grateful at the choice. “All right.”

  His bed was tall and she had to climb into it as though she were a child getting onto a too large piece of furniture. Elinore felt clumsy and awkward, but she managed - feeling surprised when Caleb slid into bed behind her and pulled her close. He brought her against his chest and it was so many things at once. As she curled into him, she ran her fingertips over his chest. It was warm and soft, but also muscular and pleasantly hairy. She realized horrifically she was petting him and snatched her fingers back. She glanced up to see him staring down at her with an amused expression on his face, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I don’t mind. It was quite nice.” He smiled showing his teeth and for a moment, she was transfixed at the sight of them - straight and blunt. She ran her tongue over her own teeth and had the same odd sensation she’d had the other day, when she’d stood on the lawn and felt as though her limbs were out of proportion. She felt as though she should feel her teeth long and sharp, instead of short and dull.

  Caleb’s arm tightened around her, rocking her closer to him and he made a low content sound, like a hum. Elinore dropped her head against his chest and marveled at the clear, steady sound of his heart. Its rhythm lulled her into a languid state and she felt herself drift to sleep.

  Chapter Fourteen

  When Elinore opened her eyes, she was in the forest of her dreams. It was night, as always. The moon up above matched that in the waking world - waxing, not yet at a full crescent. It cast down enough light for Elinore to see by. The familiar raven was already on her shoulder, shifting its weight back and forth, its talons digging into her skin. It didn’t disturb or distress her. She was quite happy with its familiar and solid weight. She cast her eyes around, searching for the white wolf. In previous dreams, the she-wolf had always been waiting for her. Elinore walked quietly through the woods, pushing branches and foliage away as she moved. She came upon a set of wrought iron gates set between two large tree trunks and she stared up at them, tipping her neck up to the sky. They loomed impossibly tall and large. She crept forward and recognized the Ravenwood crest upon them. She reached out and trailed her fingers over the Latin motto that ribboned across the bottom. The raven leaned its beak closer to her ear and suddenly, she could understand the raven’s whisperings. It was no longer senseless chatter, but clear words.

  To Call The Wolf Is To Call The Pack

  Elinore ran her fingers over the cold steel words, mouthing them in English as her fingers read the script in Latin. The motto of Ravenwood. She whispered the words out loud, “To Call the Wolf Is To Call The Pack.”

  Unlike the horrid creak and groan of their earthly twins, the gates opened soundlessly. Elinore moved through them, feeling them close behind her - a way back forever barred. In front of her, through trees and greenery, Elinore saw a flash of white fur. Her heart beat with happiness and the raven’s talons dug deeper into her skin. Elinore broke through the trees and stopped short. The white wolf was not alone.

  Next to her, on the ground, curled against her side, was the black wolf. He lazily opened his eyes when Elinore crashed through the brush, his tail swishing back and forth, like a happy dog. Elinore smiled at him, her heart full. The white wolf sat up and preened, pleased with her companion, as though he were some sort of trophy caught in the wild. The raven flitted from her shoulder and flew to the sky where it joined its flock; an unkindness of ravens.

  “You’re back,” Elinore said aloud, speaking to the black wolf. His tail curled around that of the white wolf, his black fur a stark contrast to the shining glow of the white wolf’s pelt.

  Elinore’s happiness was short -ived. The discordant howl of the feral wolf cut through the night and she curled inward, protecting herself. The white wolf was alert, peering into the forest, lips curling back from her teeth with a snarl. The black wolf’s ears twitched, but he didn’t move - not as concerned as the white wolf.

  “It’s him. The feral wolf,” Elinore said, as if the black wolf only needed reminding. His tail swished back and forth, his ears moving as though he heard her, but was unsure what her words meant.

  The white wolf padded closer to the forest, growling low in her chest into the darkness.

  “You know what it is, don’t you, girl?” Elinore said, ignoring the black wolf and focusing on the white. “You know.”

  Another low growl, turning sharper and harsher came from the she-wolf’s throat.

  Elinore woke with a start, hearing the same low snarl she’d heard from the white wolf coming from her throat as she bolted upright in bed. Her heart thumped madly and she reached up, pressing her fingers against her throat where there had been strange vibrations only moments before.

  “Elinore.”

  She was in Caleb’s bed, Elinore remembered. At the sound of his voice, she turned toward him. He was awake, his clear blue eyes watchful. She was tucked close to him, her hip pressed against his. A sudden flush of shyness ran through her as she remembered that underneath the covers, he was naked. Her fingers curled into the neckline of her gown and she was heartily glad to be wearing it. Although, she supposed, it was rather late to be feeling modest and shy now, considering all that happened in the library. Her face flushed.

  Caleb raised a hand and ran a finger lightly down her hot cheek. “Are you regretting yourself?”

  Elinore shook her head. “No. Merely… coming to terms with a new world order.”

  “What woke you?” Caleb took her hand in his, tangling their fingers together and tugging on her arm until she lay down against his chest. He rubbed his chin and jaw against the top of her head and then ran his hand down the length of her arm a few times. It wasn’t quite a petting gesture, but it was close. It had an unexpected calming effect on her.

  “A dream.”

  “Of what did you dream?”

  She sighed, thinking on her dreams of late. “A forest. The iron gates outside. Of ravens and wolves.”

  His arm tightened around her and she felt the line of his body go tense.

  “I’ve been having such dreams since coming to Ravenwood.” Elinore tilted her head so that she could see his face. His eyes travelled down her arm to where the sleeve of her nightgown rode up, exposing the bite marks. They stood out black and stark against her fair skin. Caleb reached out and traced over them lightly, moving her sleeve up to see where the dark lines ran up her arm. His eyes moved as though he could see through the fabric of her gown where the lines traversed her shoulder and chest, traveling toward her heart. His eyes flicked upward and met hers.

  “It means something,” she realized suddenly. Elinore hadn’t been aware she was going to speak, but as soon as the words left her mouth, she knew they were true and that she needed an answer. From the first night she’d been bitten, to her coming to Ravenwood and him watching over Mrs. Davenport’s ministrations, she’d always had the sense the bite marks meant more than she knew. Caleb all at once seemed anxious and, perhaps, frightened. “What does it mean?”

  Caleb sighed sadly and looked away from her. Although he hadn’t moved away physically, she had the feeling he was now much further from her than he just had been. It was as though she could feel cold air seep into the spot between them. She held back a shiver. She didn’t like the feeling of him being further away.

  “You’ve read a great many books, haven’t you?” he asked.

  Elinore frowned, not understanding the question. “Yes.”

  “Have you ever read tales of beings who can change shapes? Take on other forms?”

  She paused, thinking. “Yes. In classical mythology many of the go
ds can take on strange forms. Zeus in particular is quite inventive in his shiftings.”

  Caleb didn’t meet her eyes, instead running his fingers lightly over the bite marks - touching them, but only barely.

  “And what of humans? Any humans who could change form?”

  Elinore couldn’t say for certain - she’d read a lot of books and at the moment, they were all a jumble in her head.

  “Possibly.” A low, thick feeling swirled in her stomach. She looked down at the bite marks. They shouldn’t be black. She knew that. They should be red or pink, possibly oozing slightly. There should be no black lines traveling up her arms. Then, she thought of her dreams - strange and unusual - different from any kinds of dreams she’d ever had.

  “Am I turning into something, Caleb?” she asked, her voice quiet and soft. In her heart, she thought she might already know the answer. She was changing; she was different since coming to Ravenwood. Her hunger for food, her temper with Hayter, her dreams and… though she was loathe to think it, perhaps even her feelings for Caleb? She didn’t know.

  “Perhaps,” he answered, a frown creasing his brow. His eyes did not meet hers, continuing to linger on her bite marks.

  “What am I changing into?” Elinore stared at his face, willing him to pull his eyes away from where he focused on her arm and look at her.

  As though he heard her thoughts, he cast his eyes upward. His pale irises locked on hers and in the dim candlelight, for a moment they glowed. Her heart stuttered both with surprise, but also… recognition. For an instant, Caleb’s eyes had been the deep amber shade of the black wolf’s. Elinore blinked, and pulled back from him. He stilled, motionless as she pulled away. He drew his hand back from her arm and it felt as though he withdrew his entire being even further from her.

  “You’re the black wolf.”

  Caleb seemed surprised by her statement, but he nodded. “Yes.”

  “Show me.” Elinore had to see, she had to know.

  He bowed his head for a moment and when he raised it again, his eyes had gone the deep amber color she remembered from her dreams. Then, he opened his mouth and where his blunt, human eye-teeth should have been, he had upper and lower canine teeth - pointed at the end and startlingly white. She leaned forward to get a better look and then reached up and touched one lightly with a fingertip. It was sharp against her skin. If she pressed down, it would pierce her flesh. Elinore had a sense memory of when the feral wolf bit her arm - the way its teeth punctured her skin and slid into her arm. Yes, Caleb’s teeth were easily capable of that. She grabbed Caleb’s jaw lightly and turned his face slightly to one side, looking at his teeth, then his eyes again, turning him to and fro for better examination. He bore her scrutiny without sound or motion, letting her do as she wished. Finally, Elinore let go and lowered her hand.

  “And you become a full wolf?” she asked. He nodded slowly, his expression wary. The canine teeth slowly retracted back into his mouth and she nearly asked if he would open his jaw so she could watch them retreat, but wondered if that were rude. He had a careful expression on his face, as though she had been the one to show fierce teeth.

  “And I’m becoming a wolf as well?”

  Caleb hesitated. “Perhaps. We don’t yet know if the bite will take.”

  “It doesn’t always?” Elinore asked and he shook his head. “But you suspect it will.”

  He nodded. “When it started healing, it did so with a black color instead of staying as a normal animal bite.”

  Elinore looked down at her arm, thinking. “Mrs. Davenport’s poultice? The foul smelling paste? Is it medicine at all?”

  “After a fashion. It’s meant to halt the transformation, if it’s applied early enough. But you’d already been in the woods for so long, and the bite was deep. Once the color began traveling up your arm…” he trailed off. “But we won’t know for certain until the full moon.”

  Elinore’s eyes darted to the window where the sun was coming up. She knew the moon was in its waxing phase. Indeed, she’d felt strongly tied to phases of the moon since she’d been bitten. “What will happen on the full moon?”

  “If the bite takes, you will shift into a wolf and your transformation will be complete. You’ll be like me. Like us.”

  “And if it doesn’t take?”

  “You may have some lingering affects from the bite - increased hunger, better hearing or sight. I’m not sure. But you’ll never shift.”

  Elinore paused, taking in his words. Was this madness? She pulled her bitten arm close to her, cradling it against her chest. “We. Us,” she said. “You and…”

  “Hayter. Yes,” Caleb confirmed his voice grim.

  “What of my aunt? Hayter’s wife, Victoria?”

  Caleb shook his head. “No. She was… bitten as you were, but didn’t survive. She was sick,” Caleb rushed on at Elinore’s expression. “She had tuberculosis. The bite… we are strong as wolves. Hayter thought to save her, but… it doesn’t always work. We don’t know why. She passed away from her sickness.”

  “What of the wolf that bit me?”

  Caleb’s lips went thin, his jaw flexing. “An omega.” At her expression, he continued. “A wolf not of our pack, not of Ravenwood. He’s been killing animals, perhaps gone mad, I don’t know. We don’t know where he’s from. We’ve been tracking him for months.”

  “But you can’t find him,” said Elinore. She thought of the wolf she saw just inside the forest, on Ravenwood grounds. “I’ve seen another wolf in the woods, not black. Grey and white. But not the one that bit me.”

  Caleb blinked, looking surprised. “It must have been Hayter. We… hunt better as wolves.”

  “Is that where you were? Your business in Haleton?”

  Caleb nodded. “We went to meet with another pack, one to the North and find out if they had any information on the omega.” His jaw tightened. “They did not. Hayter returned to Ravenwood and I went on to meet another pack with which my father had an alliance.”

  “What will you do when you find it? The… omega,” Elinore asked, the word slow and unusual on her tongue.

  Caleb’s eyes again went amber for a moment before turning back to their normal blue color. “We have to kill it. It’s feral. Killing horses, cows. Biting you.” He glanced down at her arm. “You should never have been traveling that night. On the full moon, we are more powerful, stronger. It was foolish of Hayter to allow you to travel that evening. Bad enough you were bitten, but if you’d not had the pistol Thistle gave you, if you hadn’t shot the wolf…”

  Elinore could see in her mind’s eye what could have happened to her; the image of blood on the ground outside the stables foremost in her mind. That could have been her. Thinking of Thistle and his pistol only brought more questions to her mind.

  “Those bullets were special, were they not?”

  Again, Caleb nodded. “Silver. It can be deadly to us. We can heal from other wounds, but ones inflicted with silver take time. If we’re injured badly enough, a wound from silver could kill us. Hayter does not like to have silver on the grounds and I thought he’d had it all removed.” His lips quirked. “But Thistle still had his pistol. He’s a resourceful man.”

  “Does everyone at Ravenwood know of your… nature?”

  “Yes. Almost everyone has either been here with my family or came with Hayter. The Thistlewaites, Mrs. Davenport, some of the footmen and groomsmen that have been here the longest. It’s not something we advertise, but if someone lives here long enough, they eventually find out. We offer protection and a home. To belong at Ravenwood is to forever have a place to be. Should any of our pack need anything, they have but to ask.”

  “To call the wolf is to call the pack,” Elinore said.

  Caleb looked proud at the words. “It is our motto. Our vow.”

  So many questions swirled through her mind, but they moved so fast it felt as though she were grasping at wisps of smoke - unable to catch any of them, save one.

  “My… feelings for
you,” Elinore began, afraid of knowing the answer to the question but needing to ask, “are they only a result of the bite?”

  Caleb’s hand came up and cupped the back of her skull, his fingers pressing into her flesh firmly. “I don’t know. I hope not. We are social animals and to be alone is to risk turning feral like the omega. Our wolves, the animals within us, desire a pack. We naturally order ourselves into one much like our animal kin do, with an Alpha or Alpha pair leading.”

  Elinore’s mind, always sharp, immediately focused on Caleb’s words, a foreboding feeling creeping up her spine. “You and Hayter are considered a pack,” she stated and Caleb nodded. “Who is the Alpha?” Though she already knew the answer to her question, she needed it confirmed.

  “Hayter,” Caleb said easily. “After my father died, I was… I couldn’t…” he swallowed. “It was a difficult time. My father and then my mother so close after him. I could have been the Alpha. Perhaps I should have been. But Hayter arrived and he was… It was so easy to let him be the Alpha. He was the only family I had.”

  Elinore could hardly fault him. She knew how it was to lose both parents - one loss so close after another. But the thought of Hayter stirred something inside her. Elinore ground her teeth and curled her fingers tightly into fists. She flinched at the sudden pain in her palms. Caleb picked her hand up carefully and drew her fingers back, both of them staring at three of her fingernails that had grown longer and sharper. They’d pierced the fleshy part of her palm where blood now swelled, red and bright.

  “You already feel the pull of the moon,” Caleb said lowly, running his own finger along the sharp edge of her nails.

  “Does this mean I’ll turn? Is this an indication?”

  “We won’t know for certain until the full moon.”

  “What will happen?”

  “For bitten wolves, the first shift is the hardest, the most painful. It takes a strong emotion to set it off. Fear, anger.” He glanced down for a moment. “Love.”