by L. C. Son
“Then, my lord, you should trust your heart.”
“It no longer beats. Besides, the woman from last night could’ve just been another woman. And I am sure a woman like that already has someone else.”
How could anyone ever leave a woman like that alone?
“The oracles are clear, my lord. Your one true love is fated to be with you as well. There is no escaping it.”
“What does that mean?”
“What it means is that she cannot be with another no matter how much she tries. Or no matter what comes against you. You are destined to be the ones to bridge the gap of the supernatural world and return a finality to the balance to its fallen state. The oracles are clear: the branches that were broken by the House of Anuel shall be restored by the fates of love bearing the Ramus Otium.”
“The Branches of Peace?”
“Yes, my lord. You are bound with the sacred crest of the Great Oak. You bear the Ramus Otium. If this woman bears the same—she is fated as are you. Fated to bring about a peace!”
“That’s impossible! My brother bears the same crest, and he is no more peaceful than a herd of wild boars.”
“No, Lord Marchand you are incorrect. While his crest is similar it is not the same. He bears the markings of the tree in full bloom. Look in this book. As you’ll see the Branches of Peace are without leaves. They are barren to denote the stripping away of all that once was in preparation for the better to come. Just like the barrenness of winter brings about a bountiful spring. You and your beloved are that better.”
“How can that be when there’s still so much darkness in me?”
“Only the love of the one can restore the light to your soul as you will bring love to hers.”
“Trieu, I know you’ve heard of the atrocities I caused just the other night. There’s no way I am a bearer of peace!”
“Yes, my lord. I am aware of your downfall, but all is not lost.”
“How can you say that? After everything I’ve done.”
“Because I yet see hope in your eyes.” Trieu’s mild and calming tone sends a rippling warmth throughout my soul like a small fire embracing winter’s chill. As much as I want to dismiss it, I don’t.
“And it is that hope, my lord that you must protect. You must protect it like your life depended on it.”
“What do you mean, Trieu?”
“Know this, Lord Marchand there are others who will not be receptive to the peace your love shall bring. Many, like your brother, would rather chaos and anarchy rule while others would seek to use your powers for their own corruption.”
“And you speak of me and the woman?”
“Yes, my lord. Many will not want you two together out of fear. Make no mistake there are plots working against the very Order of Altrinion with one purpose—to never see these oracles fulfilled. If indeed this woman brought about rhythm and beating to your heart, you must find her and protect her. For if she is fated, as I believe she is, her very life is in danger.”
A low, sneering growl rumbles through my chest at the thought of anyone inflicting pain on the beautiful woman I saw at Bessie’s place last night. The thought alone is unconscionable! Not only do I feel protective of her, I fear for her. And while I do not yet know her name, I know that I will give my very life to see that she is protected.
“Then know this, Lady Trieu, our dutiful keeper of the Order, I shall remember your words. And by the Order of Altrinion I swear to you this day, no malice shall come upon her. I will shake the foundations of Earth and hurl stars like fire through the sky before I’d allow harm to come at her feet.”
Chapter 12
Jackson
Everything feels different. I feel different. Here she lays at feet, her small fingers tracing the golden pawprints etched in the ground beneath me. She seems more curious than fearful and it warms my heart. I never want her to fear me. I just want to protect her. Love her. Keep her safe.
Lowering myself to meet her eyes, she gazes back at me as though she wanted to uncover the man behind the eyes of the beast. If only she’d just touch me, perhaps she would know that it’s me beneath this furry exterior. Just as her fingertips attempt to trail my crown, a loud roar from the wolfpack pulls my attention, breaking our exchange.
Danger lurks in the shadows and a growing threat amasses us round about. Duty calls to me, but my desire for her holds me still. With reluctance, I pull away, giving my attention to the cries of the wolfpack. Still, I can’t leave without letting her know I’ll return. I issue a low growl, and she nods in affirmation as if she understands I must go. Walking toward the pack I turn back quickly to see her just once before resuming my duty.
The glimmering shield that has protected us is beginning to fade and the wolves cry out, hopeful to give aid to waning power of the Order. Darkness sets in the meadow and menacing red eyes pierce through the shadows as slithering, screeching sounds like claws on chalkboards wreak with echoes through the night sky.
Only the power of the moon aids our plight, strengthening the pack as the pounding beneath our feet girds the earth below. My muscles retract and pulsate as if I were about to phase again, and I marvel at how my stature towers the surrounding wolves.
A strong, pulsating roar emits through my entire being and the looming darkness gives way to slithers of light around us. I roar again and the iridescent walls around us strengthen and the meadow brightens around us and the threat retracts its lure, and the wolves follow my lead, echoing my howl.
Pride swells within me and I gaze about the meadow, pleased with our results.
But my joy is short-lived as I feel the ground beneath me rattle and I turn to see a glowering figure enticing my beloved, leading her with his enchantment. I also notice the shield behind us failing, giving this figure just enough space to invade.
Fear pierces my heart and I issue a loud cry that sends the enticer back away from her, and she buckles beneath me, fearful and afraid.
I try to soften my stance, lowering myself as before to recapture her gaze, but she is too afraid. A low rumble scores through me as I bay her name, and she looks up at me, her eyes filled with wonder and fear. I bay once more and a small smile forms in the corners of her mouth, and I am thankful. I need her to see me not fear me.
I love her.
Slowly, I lower my hinds and tilt my paws downward, submitting to her. She smiles once more; this time her smile meets her eyes and I know she is finally beginning to see. I know if she touches me, all will be revealed, and we will be made whole.
My loins ache and my heart races at both the thought of her touch and her revelation. I feel like a toy on Christmas morning yearning to be opened by a child. I am just as eager for her touch as she is to touch me. I no longer wish to hold this secret. I only wish to give it to her. My secret. My love. All of me. I want to give everything that I am—that I even hope to become to her.
Just as the tips of her fingers feather my coat, a distinct floral and lavender scent invades our space, and she is stripped away from me.
A painful cry roars through me and rage swells my being as I watch my beautiful beloved swept away.
“Jack-O! Hey buddy, it’s me, Gregory! It’s just me!” Gregory shouts as he leaps backward, landing atop Damina’s kitchen counter. Fear wreaks through his pores and his eyes are wide in shock as he gazes at me with awe.
I sit up on the couch, dripping wet with sweat. My skin feels like a furnace and my heart pounds within me. A light creamy coating of fur outlines my forearms up through my shoulders and I feel my canines protruding from my mouth.
Strange.
I’m in mid-phase. I feel stuck.
I jump to my feet, growling and turning about, trying to force my phasing away. I need to return to me.
“Just steady yourself, Jack,” Gregory says in a low tone, hopping down from the counter. I know he want
s to come closer, but he keeps his distance watching me with an intense glare. “Focus on your breathing,” he says calmly.
My phone falls out of my pocket and my favorite picture of Damina pops up on my screen. As I stare at her, my breathing settles and the pacing of my heart slows its beat. Slowly, the hairline along my forearm recedes and my sharp teeth retract to normalcy.
I turn back to Gregory and am surprised to now see a large gash beneath his torn shirt. Looking down at my hands I watch my claws draw back under my nailbed.
“Don’t worry about it. The full moon is tomorrow, I’ll heal,” Gregory offers with a raised hand, relaxing his shoulders.
“Gregory, I’m sorry. I was just—dreaming.”
“Must’ve been some dream,” Gregory says, holding up his phone and pointing to the date.
“The thing is, I don’t think I realized I fell asleep.” I look at my phone and see it’s Wednesday!
Crap I lost another day!
“Well, you were growling pretty gruff. I had to break the doorposts in a bit to get in. I knocked for a while and I got worried something was wrong.”
“Last thing I recall is talking with Damina and texting her earlier. I think I paced around for a bit after I left Delia’s place. I texted her so many times before I finally heard back from her.”
“That’s great news. Isn’t it?” Gregory looks at me with an awkward grin, likely uncertain whether to celebrate. I can tell he is concerned about me falling into yet another deep sleep, losing time.
“It’s a start,” I answer flatly, staring at her wedding gown. The sight of it alone torments me, a constant reminder of how far we’ve come from our wedding day. While I’m glad Damina is at least talking to me, I’m irritated that she’s remained elusive. I know I hurt her, but her behavior is uncharacteristic. I can literally feel her slipping away from me.
Gregory clears his throat, placing himself in front of my view of her gown. “Did you two work anything out?”
Turning quickly on my heel, hopeful Gregory hasn’t spied the tears forming in the corners of my eyes, I bend down and grab my duffle bag and pull out two tee shirts. Flinging one over my shoulder to Gregory, I reply, “No she’s not ready to talk, so I just let her know I’m here for her. She did ask me to leave her family and friends alone. So I’ll ask you that we keep our distance from her family for a while.”
“Thanks!” Gregory answers as he snatches the shirt out of the air. “No problem, here. Do you at least know where she is?”
Picking my phone up from the floor, a small smile tries to escape but it’s quickly pushed aside when I think about how hard Damina is working to evade me. “Nope. Damina made a point not to give up her location. Besides, Dacari was too busy screaming in my ear for me to hear anything in the background.”
“That sucks.” Gregory grimaces as he watches me shove my phone back in my pocket. His face softens and his eyes lift as he continues, “But I’ve got good news.”
“What’s up?” I respond dryly, plopping back down on the couch gazing up at her gown.
“Well, someone spotted Tye not far from here. No takes on your brother just yet.” Gregory’s eyes are hopeful. He’s working hard to lighten the mood. He’s a better friend than I deserve.
Jumping up from the couch, I smile and do my best to match his mood. I pat him on the shoulders and walk over to Damina’s gown and zip the garment bag. The gown has haunted me long enough.
Turning to Gregory I smile once more, working desperately to shake off my soured state. “Good, at least we can finally get some answers from Tye. What about Kyra? Has she said anything?”
“Nothing that we don’t already know, and I suspect she’ll say no more until she sees you again. Do you think you can manage?” Gregory questions, still searching my face for hope.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to see her after what she’s done, but if it means getting closer to the truth, I’ll do it.”
My time of sulking and wallowing in the mess I’ve made now ends and my time for redemption awaits.
Dalcour
“Dude! Where have you been? I mean really, D, what gives?” Usually, Braelyn’s snarky, little sister-like tone is a part of her charm but today I’m not in the mood. I also didn’t expect to see her. She’s been wrapped up in Jerrica’s world since I took off a few days ago.
“What are you talking about, Braelyn?” I respond annoyed. I’ve done my best to avoid the mansion these last few days. After my meeting with Trieu in the Bayou, I’ve only come here to grab a few blood bags from my stash in my suite. Ever since Jerrica’s began hosting her La Salle de Jeu, I haven’t been in the mood to run into any of the contestants. Especially Colin’s daughter. All my energy is fixed on finding the woman from Bessie’s place.
“Look, D, I know you had a little scare back at Bessie’s place when she put the borders up. The little pulsating you had would’ve driven anyone stir crazy, but you’ve been incognito!”
“I’ve just been busy, Braelyn. Besides, I’m sure you don’t miss me with all your hosting duties with Jerrica.”
“That’s what I’ve come to talk to you about.”
“What about it? You’ve got all the paperwork, right? And if you’re sure Abraham’s boy can pull it off, I don’t see what else is needed.”
“Sure, Mark and his cronies will be fine. That is if Dauphine and Claudia keep their hooks from him!”
“Do I detect some jealousy, Braelyn? Look, you and I both know Mark has a monumental task before him if he is to alpha his pack. If he decides to be with Dauphine or Claudia it’s only his duty to his pack that prevails—but if you’re worried about it, perhaps you should tell him how you feel.”
“Oh no! This isn’t about me and that boy and you know it! I wanted to tell you that the woman that Jerrica’s wanted to introduce you to is here and I really think you should meet her.”
“Don’t have time—”
“Why? What is up with you? Dalcour, come on this is me you’re talking to!”
“Look, Braelyn, I don’t have time to explain. All I can tell you is what I’m working on has possible life and death consequences.”
“Life and death?” Braelyn’s muted and exasperated tone doesn’t go unnoticed. I’m sure she thinks I’m referring to Decaux and his schemes, but I don’t have the time nor the heart to fill her in on my discussion with Trieu. And if she thinks the pulsating was only my reaction to Melvina’s protection border, it’s best to leave well enough alone.
I push past Braelyn to look for the two new Mercy Blades I got from Titan a few months back. If there are indeed forces working against me and my mystery woman, it’s best that I be prepared. I don’t care whether I have to face Skull, Scourge, or Altrinion-vampires, these blades will take out any creature; supernatural or otherwise.
“Yes. Now please, Braelyn, I must go—wait what’s that smell?”
Just as she turns, a strong wind blows through the French doors and a familiar enticing fragrance brings me to a halt. My knees buckle at its entreat and energy rivets through my being, sending bolts of electricity through me all at once.
“Huh? What smell?” Braelyn responds, twitching her nose as if she smells nothing out of the norm.
I know I’m not going crazy.
“That scent—I’ve smelled it before,” I say as the aroma pulls me to the threshold of my door. I lunge forward into the hallway, still holding onto the doorposts as I inhale deeply, allowing the fragrance to fill my lungs completely.
The aroma is so calming and sweet, it sings to me like a siren, luring me into its reach.
“Um, D, are you okay?” Braelyn says pushing me from behind.
As I turn back toward her, she gazes at me with her wide-eyed half-grin. She must know something.
“Braelyn, tell me you smell it? Tell me I’m not crazy.”
“Well, I’ll never be the one to outright lie to you. But yes, I smell something sweet,” she answers while poking her fingers through the fishnet holes of her gloves with her nose scrunched.
“Braelyn!” I shout grabbing both her shoulders. She feigns a faux startled expression and then breaks her pretense with a snort and cackle. Her laughing is so unbecoming. I repeat her name once more when she loosens from my grip and continues laughing as she turns away from me trying to catch her breath.
Clearing her throat, she holds her hand over her mouth and looks at me once before giggling again and plops down onto the wingback chair in the corner of my suite. Once more, the enticing scent pulls me back toward the door and I turn back around toward the hall and take in another deep breath but this time something is different.
I know this smell.
“Okay, okay, before you go Flintstone and run down the steps like a caveman, maybe you’d like to hear about the woman Jerrica wanted you to meet.”
“What is her name?” I question with my face still pressed against the drifts of wind carrying her essence to my door.
“Firstly, her name is Damina Nicaud.”
“Nicaud. Unusual last name.”
“Yeah, we thought so too. But that’s her name. She’s definitely Altrinion but Jerrica doesn’t think she knows it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, from what I hear her parents died when she was young, so I don’t think they ever got around to spilling the news. Anyway, she’s here now. Do you want to come down and meet her? She just asked me to round up the finalists for the project. This would be a good time for our illustrious benefactor to make an entrance. Don’t you think?”
“Come down? Now?” I question as passionate heat boils within me. I want to see her. I need to see her. But I can’t go down yet. Not like this. Especially if she doesn’t know what and who she is, this would be too much too soon.
“Yeah, come on, D. I’m sure she’d love to meet you. As it turns out she’s just overcoming a major heartbreak, so meeting you would surely help her get over the hump!”
