Wolf Leader (Wolves of Wisconsin Book 5)

by Marie Fraser

  Steve.”

  As soon as her gaze lifted off the paper, the memories of the night came back in a rush. Agnus felt her stomach contort in disgust. And strangely, a tint of pleasure.

  Steve had stayed the night. For her.

  She couldn’t wait to see his gorgeous face in college. With a nasty smile licking her crimson lips, she rushed outside.

  * * * * * * *

  They were huddled at their usual spot in the cafeteria. But Agnus’s eyes were only looking out for him. And it was soon enough, that she caught sight of him. He was sitting next to Lucy, his head tilted and lips curved in a smile. His hair stood out in messy spikes, as always. Agnus hurried towards him, her heart ramming furiously against her ribs.

  “Hey Agnus. I thought you wouldn’t come to college today, baby.” Mark stepped in her way, and caressed his cheek. Agnus felt a horrible revulsion climb up her insides. She took his hand and gently pushed it away.

  “Oh? And why would you think that?”

  Agnus’s presence had been noticed by the entire group now, every head turned in her direction.

  “Well, I just assumed because you left early last night.” Mark edged closer and Agnus stepped away in disgust.

  “Left early? Oh, how very nice of you to assume, Mark. I must say I’m moved by your very evident concern.” Agnus’s tone had turned cold, but she didn’t care. Because no matter how hard she tried, she could not possibly thrust last night’s horrifying experience from her mind. Mark’s careless drinking had tested her vulnerability to large extents.

  “Come on Agnus,” Mark shrugged off his arm in annoyance, “nothing bad happened anyways. Stop dramatizing everything.”

  “Actually mate,” Steve said, rising from his seat, “she’s not dramatizing anything.”

  Mark raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. “Oh, and how would you know that?”

  Agnus looked between the both of them in panic. She didn’t know what she wanted Steve to say. But she did know that the truth would change everything.

  Before she could say anything, Steve spoke,

  “Because I-” He locked gazes with Agnus for a split second, and then his eyes wandered away. Agnus felt a sharp ache speed past her heart.

  “Nothing,” Steve said firmly, his jaw set tight. With that, he flung his bag over his shoulder and strolled away. Leaving Mark staring in puzzlement after him.

  * * * * * * * * *

  Steve continued to act strange the entire day. He remained silent and hardly made any small talk with anyone. But importantly, he, very resolutely, made no eye contact with Agnus. It’s like she didn’t even exist for him.

  And Agnus was mad. This was driving her nuts. She couldn’t make head and tail of Steve’s sudden change in demeanor…had she done something wrong? As far as Agnus could recall, she had definitely not said something harsh to Steve that it accounted for his cruel treatment of her.

  Just when things could not possibly get any more peculiar, Steve decided to pull off another outrageous stunt. In the middle of their math class – in the middle of a test – Steve rose from his seat, and made his way to the door.

  “Steve Turner!” Mr. Andrew called after him in surprise. “You’re not allowed to leave, until the time is over.”

  “But sir-”

  “Back to your seat, Mr.”

  “I’m afraid that’s not possible, sir.”

  “What did you – hey!”

  Steve rushed out of the class, his phone stuck to his ear, and ignoring everything Mr. Andrew had been saying. Agnus was shocked, but most importantly, she was curious. What exactly was Steve up to anyways?

  Once class was over, Agnus searched the cafeteria for Steve. She looked everywhere but remained unable to find him. Perhaps, he’d just bunked class to hang out with friends off campus. But such a notion seemed entirely impossible, because as to what Agnus could recall, Steve hardly ever hung out with anyone other than the people in their group.

  Then where in the world was he?

  * * * * * * *

  The following night, Agnus went early to bed. For long hours, she simply fidgeted under the sheets, her mind distracted and perplexed. It was one simple question that kept picking at her brain every now and then – did she really love Steve? She didn’t exactly know. But she did know that a part inside of her was awakened at Steve’s sight the other night. A part that looked for his radiant smile every day at college, only to steal at least a single glance of it. A part that cherished. Thrived. And felt truly alive in his presence.

  A part that was truly in love with him.

  She could not say that she disliked him.

  Every time, the sun cast a shadow on his chiseled features, a chill ran down her spine and she could feel her heart beating at a rapid pace. Why? She could not say. Maybe because he was quite handsome. And, he had lovely hair.

  Agnus faced the walls with despair. Well, to think about it, did she really like Steve?

  Was it love or just a minor infatuation?

  Oh lord, Agnus cried at her own ambiguity. Why could not she just decide? What would she say if Steve closed up to her, looked squarely into her eyes, and asked whether she really loved him? Could she be bold enough to say yes, or would it just be blatant stupidity to do so? Agnus’s head throbbed with too many possibilities.

  The very sight of Steve in her head, made her shiver. She did not want to let him down, but more importantly, she did not wish to risk a wrong decision. And so, as she set her mind grudgingly, it was best to conclude when the time would be right.

  When long minutes had ticked away in thought, and sleep still seemed a far-fetched notion, Agnus slipped out of bed. She drew the curtains, and the velvety darkness shrouding the streets leaked through the tiny nooks. Agnus switched on a small bulb. And she perched herself right under it, the plain canvas ready before her.

  She painted the sky livid. Diverse shades of purple blending into each other, spilled across the white canvas. The sky was cloudy, hence little or no stars could be seen punctuating it.

  While painting, Agnus was reminded of Steve’s queer remark that night. He’d asked her to submit her paintings for the upcoming art exhibition. Strangely enough, Agnus no longer found that as a bad idea.

  She sifted through all of her previous works, and after long periods of pondering and thought, she finalized two. She was so excited. This would be the first time her paintings would ever meet the public eye.

  She couldn’t wait to tell Steve about it in college.

  * * * * * * * *

  Agnus was on time. And so was everyone else. Except Steve. Moments elapsed and Steve did not come, and so eventually everyone left for their respective classes.

  Agnus couldn’t help but sense her suspicion awaken. Yesterday, Steve had mysteriously left class. And today, he hadn’t come at all. What was he up to? Agnus resolved to find out very soon.

  As she took a seat in her physics classroom, Agnus was shocked when Steve staggered past the doors. By most importantly, his ragged appearance. His hair were all ruffled, his face pale, eyes mildly red, and evident sleep deprivation splayed across his entire demeanor.

  All through the class, he kept his head low, and attention banished to some far-off land. And as soon as the lesson ended, he rushed outside. Agnus hastily stuffed her books inside her bag, and followed after him. He’d moved quite far ahead, and Agnus had to pace up to catch up with him.

  “Hey, Steve!”

  His steps halted, and as he turned his head to face her, Agnus couldn’t help but notice how blue his eyes were. They resembled the dark, starless sky, a strange energy stirring amidst them. Agnus also noticed the dark circles that formed beneath them, the exhaustion that bounced off every inch of his face. His features looked immensely tired under the creases running deep along them, the deprivation of sleep all too evident. And yet, he hid it. Under the charming bent of his lips, as he curved them into a flashy smile, his cheeks sinking in at the edges of his mouth. Before Agnus could realize
it, she was staring, marveling at the perfection of his features, struggling with an urge to run her fingers along his lips. The thought tore through her mind sharply, awakening her senses. Agnus shuddered inwardly. Ridiculous. Simply ridiculous.

  “Oh, hey Agnus.” He smiled.

  “Steve, are you okay?” Agnus asked. “Because you clearly don’t look like it.”

  “Well, I’ve started studying late,” he said, “about time to set my priorities straight, right?” He winked.

  “But…” You can’t even sit tight for a single hour and study, then how did you stay awake the entire night? She wanted to say, but pursed her lips.

  Agnus wasn’t convinced, and she knew something was not right. But why would Steve want to lie to her about it? However, despite the intense curiosity, Agnus didn’t press him. She knew it’d only be in vain. And so, she changed the topic instantly.

  “Will you be coming to the art exhibition tonight?”

  Steve shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. It depends…” He screwed his eyes, as if thinking hard over something. “Maybe not. Why do you ask?”

  “Umm, nothing, I-I just wanted to know.”

  Steve nodded lazily. “Well then, I think I should get going…I’ve a class to catch.”

  “Yeah, sure. Of course. Bye.”

  “See you around, then.”

  As Steve strolled the other way, Agnus felt a sharp sense of sadness wash over her. She’d come so close to asking him to come see her paintings…but uncertainty had held her back. Perhaps, he had plans and Agnus didn’t want to force him.

  But still…it would have meant the world to her.

  Agnus gripped at herself. It didn’t matter, she lied to her own self.

  Chapter V:

  Steve:

  The ‘Artisan’s Guilt’ – they called it this year, and Steve couldn’t deny that he fairly liked the quirky name. His obsession with art was quite strange, actually. He couldn’t sketch, couldn’t sculpt, couldn’t even paint a decent piece – and yet here he was, like every other year. For the past four years, Steve had been visiting the art exhibitions, enjoying his night to the fullest, admiring the brilliant masterpieces – and going home with the ones that spoke to his heart the most. For Steve, there was something unusual with paintings. There was so much more behind those plain shades; every stroke of brush spinning a tale of its own. And you’d sense yourself get lost amidst the enrapturing period of interpreting it. Ahhh, and every time Steve couldn’t wait to experience that feeling all over again.

  The enormous iron-wrought doors at the very front of the school were decorated with golden fairy lights. And a handful of students dotted the entrance. It was saddening to see how less art students were appreciated for their skill and effort. Steve pushed walked through the gates. He made his way to the A-Block building, where a flashy banner of the ‘Artisan’s Guilt’ was tied to the front pillars. Tiny fairy lights illuminated it from behind. Posters displaying famous quotes of artists were pinned at nearly every wall, and Steve walked past them to the corridors.

  Steve ran his eyes along the length of it, and found no familiar faces around. Well, it was no surprise really. Unfortunately for Steve, none of his friends shared this wild interest of his. He was accustomed to coming alone. Besides, it made the contemplation and pondering invested over every invaluable piece all the more interesting.

  The art gallery at their college was one clever, architectural invention. It amplified the beauty of the pieces filling its belly. The gallery led Steve through a narrow entrance, with tall sculptures rising from either side. The perfection in the tiny details of the sculptures was shocking. Steve stopped before the very last one, and ran his fingers along its smooth surface. Finding it not up to his taste, he strolled ahead, hands stuffed in his pockets, and mind bursting with excitement.

  The narrow alcove opened into a huge hall, blinding white lights pouring in from all corners. Steve held a hand up to adjust his vision. A slow music was playing in the background, a gentle rhythm to keep the visitors’ euphoria alive. Steve blinked an eye open and found art pieces filling the hall in rows and rows. They were definitely more in numbers than last year. Steve was impressed. He had a good feeling that he’d be leaving with one fantastic piece.

  Steve strolled along the aisles, his mind bewitched. It was impossible to explain the how soothing his was for him, especially after last night’s hunt. It was strange. Steve was called out by his mates much more frequently for hunts now. The exhaustion and sleep deprivation had been gnawing at his mind – and the art exhibition proved to be a good, relaxing break from everything.

  The paintings were displayed in clear strategy. The front rows comprised of some brilliant pieces, but as one walked ahead, the paintings began to lose their intense allure and professionalism. But Steve had his mind set on the balcony paintings – and obviously, the centerpiece. Soon, Steve had hit the end of the hall. A small exit led him through a slim corridor and hen eventually, a small, spiraled staircase.

  Steve mounted the stairs in haste, his heart agitated to catch a glimpse of the centerpiece. He took a step on the shiny marble floor and craned his head above.

  He was truly amazed.

  The centerpiece that night was a mimic of Van Gogh’s famous work – ‘Starry Night.’ But it was more than a mimic. For it was so close to the original one. And, Steve knew that this was one magnificent piece because he’d become somewhat of an art critic overtime. Van Gogh’s paintings were incredibly close to Steve’s heart. But he had, obviously, been unable to purchase even a single one of them.

  But tonight, he could.

  Heart ramming furiously in his chest, Steve made his way forward and peered at the artist who had shown such an outrageous display of skill. The air was caught in his chest. For right there, in a tiny corner, was a person’s name he’d recklessly started falling in love with.

  Agnus Stone.

  For a few, long seconds, Steve stood there rooted to the spot, eyes shifting between the painting and the name inked on the bottom. Finally, he withdrew his gaze from it and scanned the room. She was nowhere. But she’d asked him…

  And realization came over Steve in a rush. He remembered asking her to submit some of her paintings for the exhibition, she did. But he had told her later on that he wouldn’t be coming…what a bloody asshole thing to do.

  He wanted to make up for his mistake, for stamping down her enthusiasm rather than encouraging it. If only, she’d come. Hair disheveled, and hands filling the pockets, Steve wandered to the balcony. And an intense panorama halted his steps.

  A young lady was lounging at the railings, her jet-black dress melting against the dark, velvety sky. Her slender legs were wrapped around each other, accentuating the narrowness of her waist. Her light brown hair sailed with the wind, pushing into her face in soft curls that glittered golden under the faint light.

  Steve was in awe. The chilly wind slapped in his face, dragging him out from a daze. Steve took a hesitant step forward, his feet careful not to startle the beautiful stranger ahead. She shifted her head, resting her arms atop the railings. In that split second, as her face caught the orangish hue of the streetlight, Steve’s heart skipped a beat. For lolling against the railings, eyes lost in vacant space, and a strange sadness splaying her face – stood Agnus Stone.

  Steve walked in place beside her.

  “You know the famous artist of the centerpiece should be anything but sullen and alone tonight.”

  His breath came out as puffs of cold air, and his head faced the cloudless sky, lit by a million stars.

  At his sudden statement, she turned despairingly, raising a brow. Steve caught the raw surprise that rimmed those beauteous eyes, but it only lasted a split second. Giving him a casual look, she turned her head back towards the outside city.

  “Well, the artist finds solace only in the stars and the moon. Unlike humans, the sky is patient with her tales, and ever accompanies her soul.”

  Steve felt his heart
sink. The jab was directed at him – at his cruel mistake when he turned down her offer to accompany her to the art exhibition.

  “Agnus…” Steve lifted his gaze off the star-lit sky and looked at that beautiful face. At the soft whisper from his lips, Agnus closed her eyes, her thick lashes glimmering with tiny droplets of moisture.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low but impatient. “I’m so sorry, Agnus. You’ve been sweet to me this whole time, while I’ve been acting like a complete jerk. Clearly, you have your own pile of problems but I’ve been so selfish.” He ran his fingers through his hair, a muscle jumping in his jaw. “It’s understandable if you don’t want to talk to me, I-”

  “Shhh.” Agnus placed her index finger on his lips, and traced the shape of them. Steve watched those soft curls sway as the wind rustled through them. He eased out of his leather jacket and gently wrapped them around her cold arms.

  “God Agnus, you’re freezing!”

  He curled his arms around her torso, pulling her in and she let herself be. Until her bodies were only inches apart. Agnus stood on her toes, and looked into his eyes deeply. She brought her mouth close to his, and Steve followed, brushing them against hers. A wave of energy shot down their bodies, and they kissed harder this time, tongues locked together. Steve ran his hand through her hair, and she held his jaw, fingers grappling his neck.

  “Promise me you won’t leave again,” she said, in between short breaths.

  Steve caressed her cheeks, and in god knows what mind, he said, “I won’t.” His heart was s overpowered by emotion that he didn’t realize what he was signing up for, didn’t remember the dark curse that prevented him from making any such promises. Didn’t remember anything. In that moment, the only thing his heart and mind witnessed was the sheer beauty of Agnus’s frail body, the narrowness of her neck. And the raw passion that reflected in her eyes now.

  “You know,” Steve said, eyes drinking in her brilliant face, as they held on to each other, “Van Gogh’s ‘Starry Sky’ is my favorite painting of all paintings I have ever come across. And man, haven’t I come across many.” He laughed. And, Agnus smiled back. “But I’m just curious, you know, about why did you decide to paint it?”