Aubreigne

by Sandra R Neeley

  He ran as fast and as far as he could. Wandering in the general direction of Whispers, thinking of Aubreigne, and how she’d once been drawn to him. He needed someone to make him feel better, someone to take care of him and give him an easy life, and knew she’d accept him just like she had before. Which is how he’d found himself in the swamps of south Louisiana. He’d wandered, trying to find his way to Whispers, searching for a way back in. Without the Windigo inside him, he was only human, not able to find his way through the protections Enthrall kept around the community. Then, only by chance he wandered close enough to overhear the festivities, and followed the sounds. The closer he got to the invisible barrier surrounding them, the more uncomfortable he’d become. He’d been afraid, but he’d known that the protections were meant to do that, to frighten people away. Then he’d watched from the trees as Aubreigne had celebrated the marriage of Deaumanique and a young man who he thought was Shane.

  It’d been years, but he was sure it was Deaumanique that had married. She was beautiful. For a moment he considered appealing to her to take him in. She was younger than Aubreigne, surely more naive. He could sway her from her husband… Then he’d seen Aubreigne rise to dance with a male he didn’t know, and decided that she was as beautiful as she’d ever been. She’d loved him once, he could make her love him again. He’d watched until, finally Aubreigne had left the wedding. Then he’d followed her, intending to show himself, and tell her that he’d been wrong and unable to forget her, begging for another chance. It would have worked, he had no doubt. Until whatever evilness it was that followed her had sensed him and forced him away. But it would all be okay. He’d go to Aubreigne tomorrow and if she was still alive, he’d plead his case and beg forgiveness. If she’d not forgive him, or if the evilness had killed her, then he’d find Deaumanique and swear to protect her in her mother’s absence. He’d lure her from her husband and make his way here in Whispers, like he should have done instead of returning to a bunch of ungrateful people who had no idea of his value.

  Ata’halne climbed the tree he’d paused beneath to catch his breath. He made himself comfortable in the crook of the tree and waited until morning. Then he’d find out which woman would be lucky enough take care of him for the foreseeable future.

  Chapter 8

  Amilanu stood in the darkness of a strange forest. He’d been called here by the soulful cry of an innocent, in the last throes of life. He looked down at the noble creature before him, now cold in the still of the night. His eyes took in several sets of eyes looking back at him as he stood over the body of the wolf. The wolf didn’t have to die. He’d only sought food in the cold of winter in this forest the wolf and his kind had called home for centuries. Yet those who tried day after day to forge a life here had killed him on sight.

  Amilanu allowed a little of The Dark One to permeate his being and looked upon those standing in the shadows, too afraid of him to come out and claim their kill. They meant to skin him for his fur. Not this day. This day, Amilanu would save this creature for a better life. He stooped over and slipped his arms beneath the animal, scooping him up in his arms. His now red eyes glared at those responsible for the animal’s death. “You will not slaughter the animals needlessly. You have food. You have shelter. There was no need,” he growled.

  One of the braver males snapped out an answer. “It tried to steal our food!”

  Amilanu stepped toward the male. “You have enough for four winters. A little toward his survival would not have harmed you or yours. You kill another animal needlessly, and I’ll be wearing your skins.” He allowed his fangs to show as he snarled at the male, then disappeared before their eyes with the large, black and grey wolf cradled in his arms.

  Amilanu rushed back to the place he now considered his home — Aubreigne’s cottage. He stood outside the cottage, sensing her sleeping inside. Amilanu looked around himself, finding little else than the darkness that shrouded everything. He looked back over his shoulder toward the tree line in the distance, then down at the wolf in his arms. This noble animal would live to see another day. Amilanu closed his eyes and thought of those that dwelled just on the other side of those trees. When next he opened his eyes, he stood among the trunks of so many trees he couldn’t possibly count them all. He looked up expecting to see the stars and instead saw the canopy of a myriad of treetops. Amilanu knelt, laying the wolf on the ground before him. He began a slow chant, just barely heard, one he remembered from his life before damnation. He laid his hands on the wolf and continued with the hypnotic chant until he felt others near him.

  Amilanu opened his eyes and found the dark fey standing before him, watching him curiously.

  “I want him to live,” Amilanu rumbled.

  “Why?” Brannaugh asked. He knew who Amilanu was, also knew The Dark One battled Amilanu for supremacy regularly.

  “I heard someone say once, ‘It’s the little things that matter most’. This creature cried out at the unfairness of his demise. I heard him, and was able to help him. So, I am,” Amilanu answered, before he allowed his voice to once again settle into the Gregorian chant of another time and place.

  “What will you do with him?” Brannaugh asked.

  Amilanu looked up at Brannaugh, allowing the chant to cease its rhythmic resonance as his lips stilled. Then, he jutted his chin in the direction of Aubreigne’s home. “She is alone. So is he. Perhaps they can keep each other company.” Amilanu began to chant again, his hands beginning to glow just ever so slightly. The problem was, Amilanu — The Dark One — was not meant to give life. He was meant to master those of the dead who’d earned his kind of eternity. So, powerful as he might be, there were certain gifts he just didn’t have.

  Brannaugh watched Amilanu trying in vain to revive the wolf. Brannaugh, being of the fey, albeit the dark fey, was one with nature on just about any level one could imagine. He opened himself to the wolf and felt the lingering sadness and senselessness of its death. Then he thought of Aubreigne and her kindness and goodness. He’d spent time with her recently and genuinely liked the female. She offered harm to none who didn’t court it directly, and judged no one. He looked down at the male still trying to revive the wolf and tried to feel his heart.

  A smile formed on the male’s face and his eyes opened while he chanted still. “You can search for my heart all you wish, you won’t find it here. It sleeps in the cottage just there,” Amilanu said, indicating the direction of Aubreigne’s home. “Will you help me gift her a friend or not?” he asked.

  Brannaugh thought about it for a moment. He’d always been taught that one should leave things in their natural state. But the death of this wolf was not a natural thing, nor was it a necessary survival for the humans that had taken its life. They didn’t need to eat and they didn’t need its fur. They simply killed it because it was a wolf. Brannaugh dropped to his knees beside the wolf, and laid his hands on the wolf’s body beside Amilanu’s. He closed his eyes as Amilanu took up his chant once more, and when his entire body began to glow a soft, deep green, he opened his eyes and slowly blew breath toward the wolf. The wolf began to twitch, and finally to whine.

  Brannaugh stood up and backed away.

  Amilanu smoothed his hands across the wolf’s fur. “Shh, easy. You are safe. There are more important things awaiting you than death, my friend,” Amilanu told the wolf.

  Amilanu looked up at Brannaugh. He inclined his head. “Thank you for your assistance.”

  Brannaugh inclined his head in turn. “I wish you luck with your battles. I hope that you will be the victor.”

  Amilanu smiled, gathered the wolf to him and disappeared from sight.

  ~~~

  Aubreigne raised her head from the arm of the sofa and looked around her silent home. It was dark outside, as was evident from the lack of sunshine shining through her windows. She smiled remembering that Deaumanique was safely away in her home with her new husband. She picked up the book that had fallen to the floor when she’d dozed off and stood, stre
tching her arms above her head.

  Walking toward the kitchen, she paused when she heard a slight scratching at her door. As soon as she came to a stop, the scratching stopped. She took a step toward her kitchen, and this time heard a whine. Her brow wrinkling, she walked over to her front door and cautiously pulled it open. Her brow raised and she completely opened the door to better see the creature sitting at her stoop.

  “Oh, my! Look at you!” she said, moving slowly toward the injured animal who sat looking up at her.

  The creature looked up and whined again, lifting his paw toward her before setting it down again.

  “Are you hungry?” Aubreigne asked.

  The creature whined again and lay down on her stoop. That was when Aubreigne saw the blood on his back, and on his head behind his ears. “You’re hurt,” she said, the pain in her voice at finding this beautiful, magnificent animal in pain clearly interpreted by the animal himself. “Will you follow me inside?” she asked, backing into her home and kneeling to beckon to him. “Come on. I can’t help you if you won’t come inside.”

  The beautiful, graceful, and quite large black and grey wolf pulled himself to his paws and followed her inside her home, looking around himself, his head hung low as he decided if this was a good idea or not.

  Aubreigne moved slowly so she wouldn’t startle the animal. She wanted to close the door, but decided that maybe feeding him would be the best thing to do first. When she reached the kitchen, she looked over her shoulder at him. He’d followed her and sat about five feet away from her, panting as he watched.

  “How about some water first?” she asked. She filled one of her largest bowls with water, then, watching the wolf, moved slowly toward him. As she approached, he backed up. She placed the bowl out of the way against the wall in the empty space between her front door and the kitchen, then she returned to the kitchen to get the wolf some food. She took all the meats from the leftovers she’d brought home from the wedding, and placed them on one of her dinner plates, then turned back toward the wolf. He’d been lapping up the water she’d given him and stopped drinking when she looked at him.

  “Here, I have some meat for you,” she said, moving toward him.

  The wolf backed up only a few feet and watched her as she placed the plate of food on the floor beside the water she’d already given him.

  As soon as Aubreigne went back into the kitchen, he practically inhaled the food on the plate. By the time she turned around to see if he’d eaten, he was finished and was watching her as he licked his muzzle clean.

  “Well, you must have been starving. I’ll get you a little more,” she said, turning toward the icebox. She took out some chicken and a fish she’d been planning on having the next day or two, and placed them on the counter. Then she walked over to the plate the wolf had licked clean and picked it up. Aubreigne had expected him to growl or show some resistance when she removed the plate his food had been on, but he simply watched her.

  She broke up the chicken and the fish on the plate and returned it to the wolf. “Here you go. That’s it until morning, though.”

  The wolf watched her as he slowly approached the plate. She’d not moved away, wanting to see what he’d do if she stayed close to his food and water. Once he reached the plate, he finally dragged his eyes from hers and began to eat.

  “You’re a good boy, aren’t you? You’re very lucky you came to me instead of some others who live here. They may not have been so welcoming.”

  Aubreigne returned to the kitchen and stood nibbling on the rest of the leftovers until she’d had her fill. The wolf simply curled up on her floor once he’d finished eating and had more water. She cleaned her plate, and put it away, glancing sideways at the wolf’s plate. She decided to leave it where it was, and walked over to her still open front door. “Do you want to go back outside?” she asked, moving the door slightly open and closed.

  The wolf raised his head and looked at her, then the door, then laid his head back on his massive paws and closed his eyes.

  “Alright, then. I guess that means you’re spending the night.” Aubreigne closed the door and went to her bathroom to get cleaned up. The whole time she washed, she wondered if the wolf would allow her to clean his wounds. She didn’t know how bad they were, and though she could see blood, they weren’t dripping or seem to be actively dripping, so she didn’t think they were life threatening, but she’d still like to clean them and make sure he was okay.

  She walked out of the bathroom and looked over toward the door where he slept beside his food and water dishes. But he wasn’t there. Aubreigne looked around the room and smiled when she found him lying in front of her fireplace, snoozing peacefully. She’d always had a way with animals because of her very nature; they sensed that she was as wild at heart as they were. The very blood that ran through her veins — Siren’s blood from her mother, and Demon’s blood from her father — prevented her from ever totally overcoming that wildness that lived inside her. But she’d never had a wild wolf decide to take up residence in her home. She approached the wolf with a wash cloth in hand and a poultice she always kept around in case of cuts or scrapes and burns. She’d been through tubs of it when Deaumanique was little.

  “Will you allow me to clean your wounds?” she asked, standing a few feet from him.

  The wolf lifted his great head and looked at her, his nostrils sniffing the air, before laying it down again unconcernedly.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” she said. “If you bite me, you will have to go back outside,” she warned, approaching the wolf slowly.

  He watched her getting closer, but made no move to stop her or warn her away.

  Aubreigne knelt beside the wolf, and tentatively reached out a hand toward his head. The wolf sniffed her hand, but continued to lie calmly on the floor. Aubreigne lightly stroked his ear, making him flick it. Aubreigne smiled and stroked it again before very slowly running her hand down the side of his neck to his shoulder.

  The wolf gave no response so she lifted the washcloth and held it out to him. Again he sniffed it, but gave no indication he was the least bit concerned. Aubreigne rubbed the cloth over his fur, making him accustomed to it, before finally coming to the wound at the back of his head behind his ear. Gently she cleaned away the congealed blood until she could see what she was working with. She pressed her lips together when she finally got a good look at it. It was no animal bite. It looked like he’d been attacked by someone with a blade. “Who hurt you?” she asked softly.

  The wolf whined a bit, but didn’t move.

  “I won’t let them hurt you again,” she promised. She lifted the jar of poultice and dipped her fingers in it, then reached out slowly to rub it over the slices in his skin. “This will make it heal more quickly,” she explained as though she was talking to a person. Once finished there, she scooted a little further toward the back of his body, and began the process all over again, working her way toward the stab wound on his back. As she cleaned she figured out it wasn’t actually his back that was injured, it was his haunch, and the blood had just been smeared over his back. She cleaned the blood from his fur and spread her poultice on his wound before rising from her knees and going into the bathroom to wash out the cloth and put away her poultice.

  By the time she returned to her living room, the wolf was sleeping before her fire. She stoked the fire to be sure it would stay warm all night, then went to her bedroom to go to sleep herself. She didn’t know that once she was sound asleep, a male as beautiful as he was dangerous stood beside her bed, looking down on her as she slept with a wolf at his side. Amilanu looked down at the wolf and stroked his head.

  The wolf looked up at the male who’d been the first thing he’d seen when he’d awakened from a cold, dark nothingness.

  “I was right to save you from death. You will be a good protector and friend to my female,” Amilanu said softly as he patted the wolf’s shoulder.

  The wolf looked over at the woman sleeping soundly and sat dow
n.

  “Watch over her. She will love you and protect you,” Amilanu ordered.

  Amilanu stepped closer to the bed and reached out a hand to gently brush his fingertips across Aubreigne’s cheek. “Sleep well, my Aubreigne,” he said softly, soothingly. “I am fighting as well as I can. I pray for release every day. Hopefully, I will soon be beside you.”

  As he finished speaking to Aubreigne, his face skewed up in a grimace, and his eyes began to glow.

  The wolf growled, rumbling low and deep in his chest.

  Amilanu ground his teeth, the muscles in his jaws and his neck straining to maintain control. His powerful hands fisted at his sides as his arms became like stone as they bulged with his attempt to keep The Dark One buried deep. Amilanu looked down at the wolf who still rumbled at his side. “Keep. Her. Safe,” he managed to get out with a raw, broken voice as his eyes flashed between his blue and The Dark One’s red. The wolf stepped between Amilanu and the sleeping female.

  Amilanu looked down at Aubreigne once again, then stepped away from her bedside, his face contorting, reflective of the strain it took to maintain control, before disappearing as though he’d never been there.

  The wolf looked around the bedroom, walked out into the living room, then made the rounds of the small cottage, before settling on the rug before Aubreigne’s bed. There he stayed until she woke in the morning.

  Chapter 9

  Aubreigne woke to birds singing, and sunlight peeking through the curtains in her small, modest home. She stretched her arms over her head and lay there smiling at the ceiling for a moment before she noticed an unusual sound in her bedroom.

  Panting. She heard panting. She raised up and looked over her bed to find a huge, black and grey wolf lying beside her bed, watching her. “Well, good morning.”