by L. C. Son
“How many times do I have to tell you that isn’t my name!”
“As many times as you’ve looked your fiancé in the eye and deliberately lied to her!”
“I’ve told you before, I’m not lying about anything. And in our own time, not yours, will she learn everything! Anyway, why are you here?”
“I’m here because I wanted you to know when your house of lies comes crashing down, I will be there to help Damina put together the fragments of her life.”
“You have no idea how to help Damina. You couldn’t even fathom what it means to be what we are. You’re just another self-righteous human wishing to live vicariously through the life of one you couldn’t possibly understand. You humans see everything in black and white, but we don’t. There are colors you’ve yet to see, feelings you’ve never felt, and a life you’ll never live. So how could you possibly promise to be something for her when you can barely comprehend who and what she is.”
“And you do? You think you understand her? You think you love her? Sure, I may not know what it means to be what you are, but I know what love is and what it isn’t. Secrets and lies are not the makings of true love—and you know this. But you’re so far gone you’ve become too chicken to tell her the truth. But that’s okay. The truth will prevail and when it does, I’ll be there for her. I promise you. That’s the promise I’m making to you today Nashoba and my promises never fail.”
Allyson brushes past me hard bumping my shoulder as she walks away. She wants me to know that she has no plans of just letting me and Damina be happy. While I agree that Damina should know the truth, Allyson has no idea how all of this will dramatically change Damina’s life.
Forever.
Seeing Allyson only reminds me I need to speak with the only other person more vested in ensuring Damina’s truth will not be disclosed prematurely—Delia.
Patting my pockets, I realize I don’t have my phone. Crap! As tempting as it would be to retrieve it from Damina’s place, I still know that’s not the best thing. There’s no way I can resist her a second time!
It’s nearing the eve of the next lunar cycle and I’m already running hot. Thankfully, I know exactly where to find Damina’s aunt, and it’s only a few blocks from here.
I reach the church where I know Delia will be prepping the sanctuary with all the frills and flowers she chose for our wedding. I’m kinda glad I have an excuse to be here. If I cough or sneeze just once I know that idiot florist found a way to sneak in the aconite flower.
The florist, I think her name was Kelly or Kim, was a bit too presumptuous. Insisting since Damina’s favorite color was purple we should mix in a few. Hopefully, Delia reined back that snippy and overly expensive little florist. I’d hate for a church full of sick wolves to be Damina’s first introduction to our world. Sure, only poisonous if ingested by a human, but for my kind, just its buttery scent alone is enough to sicken us to the point of death. I guess that’s why we called it wolfsbane.
I feel my eyes well with tears the moment I open the double doors to the sanctuary, but it is not from aconite. An overwhelming feeling like butterflies tingles all over me as my mouth drops at the sight of the wedding chapel. Everything looks impeccably amazing. Everything. Delia went above the call of duty to ensure this day was special for Damina. While I know Damina is not as frilly as her aunt and cousin, she certainly appreciates beautiful things.
That’s what I love about her.
From the large floor votives that accent the church aisle, to the silk lavender poms wrapped in lace hanging along the pews, every detail is flawless. I can’t help but imagine how lovely my bride will look as she gracefully strides down the aisle. Once more my eyes fill with tears at the mere thought of my wife-to-be, and I am now certain that tomorrow can’t come quick enough.
“Jackson,” Delia’s tone is soft yet husky enough to break me from my musing.
Quickly, I blink rapidly, tossing my head back to vanquish my tears as I clear my throat forcing her name from my lips in a more commanding tone than I intended as I turn on my heel to meet her gentle smile.
“I didn’t expect to see you here until tomorrow,” Delia continues in the same quiet manner, examining my face.
Crap she can probably see my glassy eyes.
“Yeah, I was just leaving Damina’s and I thought I’d stop by.” I fake a sniffle and pull my handkerchief from my vest pocket.
“Well, what do you think? Do you think she’ll like it?” Delia replies after a slight knowing pause. I’m happy she’s refraining from her normal motherly pandering. I hate anyone making a fuss over me.
“Everything looks lovely, Delia. I’m sure Damina will be very pleased.”
“And the groom?”
“Yes, I’ll admit I had to catch my breath once I opened the doors. But to be fair, I expected nothing less from you, Delia.”
“Oh, don’t make this old lady blush, Jackson—but do go on!” Delia exclaims with a bright smile that softens the mood as she rests her hand on my shoulder.
“I never doubted your skills for a moment, Delia. But I did come to chat with you—just not about the arrangements.”
Delia’s smile weakens and her eyes fall almost knowing my reason for coming.
“Did you—”
“No, Delia. I didn’t tell her, but I came pretty close.”
“What do you mean you came close?”
“Delia, it’s killing me keeping this from her. So I tried to use the orb and show her, but I couldn’t. My emotions and everything were running amuck!”
“So, you didn’t tell her? I mean after you called me this morning I thought for sure, you’d tell her—what made you change your mind?”
“Let’s get this straight. I didn’t change my mind. I still think she should know. And she needs to hear it from me. But I made a vow to her father that I would keep her safe.”
“I’m glad, Jackson. Like I told you the orb works best after consummation or at least when her heart is open to accept this truth. And we both know the only way for that to happen is if she’s accepted who she is and who you are. Only then can she receive the orb from her father. More importantly, once you consummate, she can see your wolf. She needs to be able to see your wolf. If you use the orb to show her too soon it could—”
“Kill me. Yes, I know.”
“Exactly. It would kill you because you’d need a great deal of strength, enough to summon the Prime Wolf within you, to show her—and since you have yet to accept your Prime status, I doubt that would work. Please know that no matter how much we may disagree on the best way to tell her I would never want anything to happen to you.”
“Look, Delia, I appreciate your sentiment, but I know how the order of the Primes work. I only wanted you to know that I didn’t tell her. Still, it’s not me you have to worry about. It’s that pesky Allyson DeSantis. She’s relentless. I’m afraid she’d tell her tonight if she could.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much about that. Dacari has just dropped Doodle off at home and is going to pick up Damina’s gown. She’ll be at Damina’s place in no time. I have no doubt Dacari can keep Allyson at bay.”
“Still, I don’t trust her. I have a feeling—she’s up to something.”
Dalcour
Locked away in the quietness of my room I can still hear Jerrica calling my name from the foyer. Braelyn’s voice is more muffled, but I gather she’s complaining about me and all men in general. While I know Braelyn refuses to be labeled by outdated binary rules, it’s the male species that always gets her worked up. Sometimes I wish she would just stick with the ladies; she seems way more at ease with them.
Jerrica, on the other hand, is way too invested in my love life.
I wish she wasn’t.
As my phone buzzes in my pocket I’m momentarily relieved, hopeful that Titan has finalized our plans with the cast-aside che
erleaders. I could surely use the distraction from Jerrica’s incessant demand of my attention. But my hope is short-lived when I see my brother, Decaux’s name on my screen.
What the hell does he want?
An exasperated sigh is all I have to give upon answering.
“Well, it’s good to hear from you too, brother,” Decaux remarks in a grainier tone than his normal slithering sound.
“What do you want, Decaux?” I hope the gruff and stiff sound of my voice meets his ear like nails on a chalkboard. I don’t have time for this.
“Ah, so you prefer to get right to the point I see. Fine, I’ll be brief: your clock is winding down.”
“That’s why you called? To remind me of your little games. You could’ve saved yourself the trouble.”
“Oh, is that right? Is that because you’ve completed the scores of balance little brother? Are your precious Civility Centers sating the appetites of vampires and Altrinion-vamps alike? Do the wolves finally have sacred yards to reduce their hunt? Have the Dunes pack reclaimed rights among their ranks? And alas, my favorite, have you, my brother, found a love to wander you out of the shadows of night?”
Decaux shoots off his series of questions as he intends, like an assault rifle of threats. While just his presence on the other end infuriates me, I know well to take exception to his questioning. And I also know he’s just getting started.
“What if I said no?” I know better than to bait my brother, but I need to either see through his guise or at least gesture a parley—he’s extended his deadline at least twice before.
“Ha! What? Do you think I’d give you the floor for a parley? Surely you jest! And what, pray tell do you have to offer in exchange for such a negotiation?”
He’s right. In the past I’ve been able to offer him something of worth or value to him. At my first request I gave him Chartreuse Grenoble; the younger sister of his slain and one true love, Calida. Though his affection for her was only as one would dote on a small child, she gave him pause. That is, of course, until he turned her into one of the most lethal, sadistic, and villainous vampires I’ve ever known. The second time was over twenty or so years ago when I offered a post of Guardians back to him, but he surprisingly refused. He was distracted with a woman. And for the first time in a while I thought I had my brother back. Yet, I never knew whether this new woman warmed his black soul like that of Calida, it was short-lived.
He's never mentioned her name, but I wish I knew who could steer his course so far from his beloved bloody shore.
I gaze around my room, looking for anything to barter. Holstered over my bed are two Diablo Blades. There’s no way I’ll ever part with them. Besides, he has no idea I have them. These are the only swords with the ability to sever the power of the Great Oak. The roots of the oak in the earth are said to hold the power that binds Altrinions to the curse of the sun and Wolves to the moon. Decaux would want nothing more than to sever our ties to the tree. Which is why he will never get it.
I also see the rice paper scrolls Trieu gave me with the Latin Canticum Incantationum, song of enchantment, embroidered in ancient Vietnamese script. Though Decaux is too lazy to comprehend its meaning himself, he would torture some unlucky victim until he got what he wanted. The last thing the world needs is Decaux with the power to speak the ancient language of our creation. He would surely misuse it only to bring about some decrepit, vile, and sinister being worse than either Chartreuse or Scourge.
“Well, brother what is it? What do you have for me?” Decaux snaps through the phone. His patience with me is fading.
“I have nothing more than my word to give you, Decaux. I told you I would bring about a balance and I’ll do exactly what I said. When have I ever gone back on a promise?”
“Never my brother, never. So I suppose it is a luck to the world that the words of your mouth hold so much honor. I look forward to seeing your promises fulfilled.”
“Sh—"
“Wow did you talk to your mother with that mouth, sir?” Braelyn chides before I can complete my curse as I toss my phone across my room. Standing at my doorway with her arms folded shaking her head in amusement, I’m both irritated and slightly thankful for her interruption.
“Why do you insist on coming to my room unannounced and unrequested?” I snap. I’m still bothered by my brother’s call. Besides, I refuse to let on that I appreciate her bullying her way through my funk.
“Ah! So you’re in a mood too?” Braelyn counters as she walks around the fissure of light from the setting sun. Quickly I glide to the corner of the terrace and pull the drape cord. No need for either of us to get burned. Or worse.
“Look Braelyn, I’m sorry. There’s just a lot going on.”
“It’s okay, I get it.” Braelyn replies in a softer tone before making a loud slurping sound through her straw. “So was that big brother on the phone?”
“Yup. The one and only.” I answer as I drop onto my wingback chair near the terrace still holding onto the drape cord.
“Well, that’s why you need to hear Jerrica out—all the way this time!”
“Oh no! Look, I really don’t want to hear anything about finding me a true love or any crap like that. Like I said, I’ll pull my weight and help with the mansion. Heck, I’ll even choose Mark and make it official for the Dunes Pack. Titan’s got a good hold on the Guardians for now and Dranoel and Jerrica’s little mutt Brian will make sure Abraham’s boy can pass his Alpha valuation. So you see, nothing to worry about.”
“But there is something to worry about—or rather someone. You.” Braelyn’s big doe-eyed stare cuts straight through me as she speaks.
“Braelyn,” I gently reply as my speed carries me to her side at the doorway. “There’s no need for you to worry. I’ve held my own against Decaux many times before. I’ll be just fine,” I add with a strong hold at her shoulders and a quaint smile.
“Hey, I’m not doubting your skills Big D. But what’s the sense of going through all the trouble of making life worthwhile for our kind if you’re not around to see it—or worse Decaux destroys it. All I’m saying is, if you give this girl a chance to win your heart maybe it will be all worth it.”
Gazing into Braelyn’s tear-filled eyes I see both sincerity and fear. No matter how much of a jerk I can be, she only wants the best for me. Sure, I may have been instrumental in aiding her transition from a Scourge, but her little sister-like antics bring an air of joy to my dark soul.
“Okay, Braelyn, I promise I will talk with Jerrica. Even though I’ve yet to experience a love to capture the beat of my heart, perhaps this mystery woman is worth the five-century wait,” I answer while nudging Braelyn’s chin.
Braelyn looks up at me and smiles wide, happy with my response. Without warning, she wraps her small arms around my waist and squeezes me tight, burying her head in my abdomen. Before I can return her embrace, she quickly pushes me aside, shaking herself as she does when she’s shown too much emotion and walks to the door.
She grabs the door frame and looks back before exiting and says, “Who knows, maybe just maybe, she’s been waiting for you too.”
Chapter 3
Jackson
“Jackson, dear are you alright? You look more troubled than a man about to wed should be.”
“I’m sorry Sophie, just a tad contemplative I suppose,” I answer as my icily stoic reflection stares back at me from the mirror over my sofa. As I stand to greet my aunt, the ache in my tailbone reminds me I’ve been seated on the wooden pub chair in my basement for over an hour.
I’m still having a hard time shaking off Allyson’s presence.
“It’s only understandable, my dear,” Sophie begins as she lightly strums through my hair, trying her best not to fuss over me. “You’re about to marry tomorrow. And while you should be thinking of your bride, your brother was up to his usual machinations. I mean bringing Kyra to
your luncheon was just—reprehensible!”
“Oh yeah. That.” Kyra showing up at our luncheon pales in comparison to Allyson’s meddling.
“That? Well, I wouldn’t just brush that off if I were you, Jackie! Your brother is up to something. I just know it.” Sophie counters with her hands rested at her hip. My brother is the only one I know who can ruffle my aunt’s nearly perfect feathers.
“Promise you won’t call me Jackie during your speech at our reception, please,” I jokily respond as I pull her in for a light hug and kiss her forehead and walk to the bar to grab a bottle of water from the mini fridge.
“Jackson, I’m being serious!” Sophie yelps and snatches the bottle from my hand and begins drinking it for herself.
I grunt and smile as I grab another bottle, shaking off my aunt’s typical bouts of entitlement. “Of course, I know you are but so am I. What did you always tell me, what you practice is what you perform?”
“Yes, and Kieron has practiced nothing but deceit and treachery since the day you refused his challenge for rank.”
“No worries Aunt Sophie. I’m not worried about Kieron in the least. He just wanted to get a rise out of me is all.”
“Well, I think it’s time you start worrying about him. And it wasn’t you he hoped to get a rise from—it was Damina. From the looks of it, I think he may have succeeded.”
“Sure, he may have annoyed her a bit, but I assure you it was the last thing on her mind when I left her today.”
“Please don’t tell me you told her—did you show her—oh Jackie, please say you didn’t!”
“No, Sophie I didn’t. You’re beginning to sound like Delia,” I reply awaiting my aunt to snap at me for comparing her to Delia. She doesn’t. Instead, her eyes become glassy pools of water and frown lines form at her brow.
“Well, we both know just how harmful it would be to you if you tried and failed. The outcome could be deadly. Besides, Damina deserves better than an ill-fitted orb. She deserves to see her groom for who he is because she loves him, not out of fear—that way it makes the process easier to take.”
