by Tracy Falbe
“But still she would desire it,” Altea said.
Thal lacked the energy to argue. He conceded to himself that he had not given his wife enough attention. He had been absent of late, which had provoked her insecure conclusions. Altea believed in the reasons that had prompted her to receive the transformation from his father, and her jealousy added to her allure. The strongest mates controlled the competition, and Thal felt a warm gladness now that Altea would be closer to him than ever before.
He kissed her deeply and said, “Altea, you’re my wife. You shall share fully in my existence, and I shall be the stronger for it.”
She relaxed against him and caressed his bare shoulder gently as he fell asleep. Since her first moments of alarm upon seeing Lenki, she finally felt peace. Her position was defended.
Pistol sniffed her ankles. She patted his head and put him in bed with Thal. “Stay with him,” she said.
Manic wakefulness tingled through her body. She possessed a restless urge for activity like a pup that must chew and chew.
A strong desire to see Sarputeen drew her into the hall. She checked first at his study, but he was not there. When she ascended to his private chamber, the door had been left ajar.
“Sarpu,” she called gently, leaning into the open crack.
After some coughing, he bid her enter.
He sat on the edge of the bed in a robe. White fuzz had sprouted across his head and face. Slender scabs marked some cuts on his knuckles. The small wounds must have happened during his long charge through the woods.
“Do you need help?” she asked gently.
He coughed again and gestured toward a jug. She poured him wine, and a few sips alleviated his cough. “How is Thal?” he asked.
“Resting,” she said. “Can I get you anything more?”
He shook his head and smiled. “Truly you’re my daughter now. This pleases me.”
“Thank you for giving me this power,” she said.
He looked away, as if pained by her naivete. “The day will come when you’ll wish the full moon did not change you. The shift is rarely convenient,” he said.
“A woman learns to live with monthly inconveniences,” she said.
“I suppose so,” he agreed and shrugged off his grouchy attitude. “I should not doubt your ability to adapt,” he said.
“I look forward to experiencing the world as Thal does. I won’t be left behind anymore,” she said.
He said, “Did you feel in command of yourself last night?”
“There was much that was novel about moving in that shape but I became accustomed to it,” she said.
“No, Altea. In your mind. Did you feel like a frightened beast? One that is confused and wont to lash out?” he demanded.
She shook her head. “I felt no urge for violence. I felt like…me,” she said and touched her chest.
“What were your intentions toward Lenki?” he asked firmly.
“I did not mean to kill her if that’s what you think,” she said.
His hard stare demanded that she answer more fully, and she admitted, “I meant to bite her, make her obedient to me and prevent her relationship with Thal.”
Sarputeen admired her audacious devotion to her mate. “I had to keep you from her. She needed to be made by Thal under the influence of my potion. If you had made her, she would have been weaker and perhaps unruly,” he explained.
Altea hung her head. She disliked that Thal had been the one to bite Lenki, but it was done, and she was grateful that Sarputeen had supplied a good reason for keeping her back. Uncomfortably, she considered briefly how Sarputeen had come by this knowledge.
He patted her hand and said, “Werewolves that are haphazardly made tend to be dangerous beasts, bloodthirsty and lacking in reason, but I saw no signs of this in you or the others. My potion worked well.”
“Has it wearied you as it did Thal?” she asked.
Sarputeen swung his feet on to the bed and lay back with a grinding moan. “He can change five to my one,” he said and shut his eyes.
A shadow of elderliness darkened his face, and Altea feared that she had asked too much of him.
He cracked open his red-rimmed eyes. “Altea, you must go without me into the forest when you change tonight. Go to Thal. His pack will take you in,” he said.
“But what of you?”
“I must rest.”
“Will you be all right?” she worried.
“I only need time to recover from the potion,” he said.
His reassurance did not cancel her concerns. Last night he had been a mighty creature, inescapable, and inspiring. Now, he looked an old man settling into his dotage. The lines on his face had never looked so deep. She blinked her eyes, trying to force away the evidence of his great age. She had never seen it before. Sarputeen had always filled her vision like a mountain, ancient but greater than all who looked upon it.
“I’ll be well soon enough, good daughter,” he said.
“I’m sorry if I made you do something that you should not have,” she said.
He smiled a little. “No you’re not, and no one makes me do anything,” he said. “Leave me to my rest. Thal will be your teacher. He is a lord among wild things and has much to show you.”
Deep sleep claimed him, and she drew his white fur over his chest. As she did this, she saw that her hands were shaking with fatigue.
She returned to her chamber and crawled into bed with Thal and Pistol. He was sleeping heavily. She listened to his slow breathing until her overwhelmed body finally relaxed.
When she awoke late in the day, she sat straight up. Disorientation afflicted her as if the past six months of her life had never happened. For a bewildered moment, she had thought that she was back in Prague living the normal life of any young woman.
Then the profound realization of everything that had happened and what she had chosen to do to her body came over her. She flopped back on the pillow and ran her hands over her body. The hills and valleys of a woman pressed against her hands, but she contemplated the changes that would erupt from her flesh when night fell. She could already feel the fat moon hanging in the Heavens like a lantern illuminating forbidden knowledge.
Ravenous hunger rumbled in her belly. Pistol roused himself and licked her face. She chuckled at the overbearing friendliness.
Thal awoke with a start. Upon seeing his wife next to him in bed, he took a deep breath to calm himself. He caressed her cheek tenderly and remembered what had happened in the night. She now represented a wondrous treasure. He would have never allowed himself to desire this alteration of Altea, but he was grateful that it had happened.
“The change will come again with nightfall?” she asked.
He nodded. “The moonlight must be brighter than the sun for it to happen,” he said.
“What if it’s cloudy?” she wondered.
“I don’t think that matters,” he said.
“I want to eat first,” she decided and bounced out of bed.
“No.”
She looked back at him.
“I think that you should feed as an animal tonight. That’s what I plan for the others. I think Father will agree. He will explain to you,” Thal said.
“He’s not coming out tonight,” she said.
Concern crossed Thal’s face, but he asked no more. He understood. The greedy effects of the potion had left him feeling a bit hollowed out, but his stamina could withstand many assaults. Although he would rather lounge inside by the fire all night, he knew that he could go out and lead his pack.
But this evidence of his father’s age hit him with a pang of worry. Unhappily, he accepted that his relative youth required that he take on the greater load. He would miss his father tonight. Shifting and running across the land with his sire granted him an exceptional feeling of peace, as if all were right in the world, but strange feelings of violation lurked at the fringe of this affection because of what he had done to Altea. Thal understood that she had consented but
feared that his father had somehow encouraged her. Thal’s spotty memories told him that he had desired the magic that his father could give him. He must have desired it very strongly to leave his mother, but would he do it again knowing what he knew now? The answer eluded him, and Thal decided it was useless to contemplate such things. He was forever altered, and now Altea was too. They would go on with their lives as they were, and he must not bother himself with daydreams of human normalcy.
******
That night Thal led his new werewolves on a hunt. They ranged into the valley to pursue deer. His unschooled pack made many mistakes, but his guidance remained patient despite the bite of hunger in his belly. As the night wore on, each of them gained experience watching for his cues and those of their pack mates. Despite their errors, their relentless chase of the scattered deer finally overwhelmed an old doe. Thal struck her first and gave a minor wound. As the doe bounded away, Ansel raced after her with a fresh burst of speed and tore into a hind leg. Slowed by another wound, the doe could not escape Harvath and Mitri, who dragged her off her feet.
Lenki caught up and joined in as the animal met a brutal death. Johan and Altea arrived last. Their new wolfen blood excited their senses as they looked upon the prey, but tender human sympathies stalled their reactions.
Altea saw Thal watching over the bloody scene. He was waiting for them to act. Altea brushed against Johan to urge him forward, and he gave into the need to feed when she did. They bit into the animal. Their powerful teeth ripped tough hide and warm bloody flesh.
Full bellies lulled everyone to curl up and rest, but Thal knew that no one wanted to end up naked in the valley far from the castle, and he started the trek home. They padded through the castle gate on wide silent paws just before dawn.
The fatness of the moon led to a third night of shifting, and Thal trained them in the wild again. Recovered somewhat from his fatigue, he took more pleasure in this outing. He could appreciate the company of his new pack more. Their physical power and palpable loyalty gave him hope for the battles to come.
And having Altea at his side added to his pleasure. Her alpha spirit complemented his, and he believed that her leadership would make the pack more powerful and effective.
When they returned to the castle in the morning, Thal told his followers that they were free of the shifting for another lunar cycle. They departed for their quarters, and Thal and Altea mounted the stairs. He stopped on the landing for their level and looked up the final flight of stairs to his father’s chambers. No sign of the Lord of Vlkbohveza had been seen since the night of changing.
“Go to him,” Altea suggested.
Despite his concerns, Thal decided that he appreciated his father’s absence. It had given him time to reconcile what he and Altea had done. Thal wished that she had trusted him to do the deed instead of his father, but he might not have been willing. He had barely been willing to alter the others.
“I’ll let him rest,” Thal decided.
Once they entered their bedchamber, Altea let slip the cloak that covered her nakedness. The scars where an iron maiden had pricked her body ran up and down both sides of her belly and chest. The deep bite wound on her thigh bore thick scabs and angry bruises. As Thal slid his arms around her, he reminded himself to be mindful of that tender leg.
Their coupling was swift. They moved in easy synchronicity, but their carnal knowledge was a mere stepping stone to their deeper connection. No barriers of existence separated them anymore, and Thal could taste from the sweet cup of excitement that had addicted Altea from the beginning. He could know a woman of his kind who could hunt and kill and guide and nurture and feel what he felt within the hushed secrecy of the wild land.
They relaxed in their warm bliss for a time until Altea said, “I’m looking forward to a proper meal tonight.”
He agreed because he much enjoyed the pleasures of hearth and table. “It’s good to feed when you’re shifted. It makes your inner fire burn hotter,” he explained.
“Let’s sleep a while and then see what the kitchen has for us,” she yawned.
“You sleep. I would check on the others,” he said, and her eyes poked needles of jealousy at him as she thought of him speaking with Lenki, but he forgave her because he appreciated the intensity of her passion.
Pistol trotted alongside him as he sought out the room where the male werewolves stayed. He made a note to find them all their own spaces in the castle as befitted their new rank.
They stood up from their cots when he entered their room. Their collective awe reminded him of his role as leader. The position fell comfortably onto his shoulders.
Mitri came forward and went to one knee before Thal. “I didn’t deserve this special gift,” he said.
“It comes with risks,” Thal reminded gently. He gestured for Mitri to get up.
“Lord Thal, for what I’ve experienced already, I’d risk the rest of my days,” Mitri said.
Thal understood. To be a man had its joys, but to be a powerful beast and prance knowingly upon the strings of Nature’s fabric granted moments of true ecstasy.
“Ansel, fetch Lenki please,” he said.
The young man left on his errand promptly. While they waited, Thal motioned for the others to return to their seats. He observed that the magic had imbued them with a healthy glow. Their eyes were clear and complexions warm. Johan seemed free of his nagging cough, and Harvath’s hair looked buoyant instead of lank. A dark beard was growing in on Mitri as lushly as spring pasture.
When Ansel and Lenki entered, Thal noted how their lean bodies moved with athletic confidence. Potent power needing only the refinement of experience filled their auras like the heady perfume of honeysuckle. Thal pondered how their youthful charms might be used in their human forms.
Once Ansel and Lenki sat down, he said, “I’m pleased with your progress.”
“Even me?” Johan asked.
Thal knew that the man struggled to be aggressive and felt inadequate because he had not contributed much to the hunt.
“Of course, Johan. Our skills are not just formed in bestial power but in balancing our wolfish strength with intelligence,” Thal said. He passed his gaze over all of them and added, “Until the moon changes you again, you must consider how to exercise your new senses within the world of men. These gifts can inform you and give you advantages.”
Lenki asked, “What advantages?”
“For myself, I find it easy to guess the truth of people’s hearts even when they try to hide it. You’ll see a lie more easily upon people’s faces now or smell a change in their bodies when they are worried or afraid.”
Harvath said, “Lord Thal, are there banes that can be used against us? Will it pain us to walk on sacred ground?”
Thal recalled no harmful powers emanating from church or chapel grounds. “I know of no charms or places that act against our kind. We are flesh and can be hurt by weapons, poison, and accidents.”
“Will the incantations of priests hurt us?” Johan wondered, and Thal shook his head.
Knowing of the religiosity of Johan, Thal dared to ask, “Tell me, Johan, do you feel that this magic has condemned your soul?”
The question startled Johan because his spiritual worries had not crossed his mind since being bitten. Everything had changed for him in that transformative surge of bending flesh that had given his body new expression.
“Your magic is not of the Devil and those who condemn you thus are ignorant to do so,” Johan said. “My beliefs have heretofore been too small. I never really saw Creation until you showed it to me.”
Thal was pleased to see that Johan’s moral conflict had subsided.
“Have you any questions, Ansel?” Thal asked upon noting the young man’s silence.
“What shall you ask of us next? Who is our enemy?” Ansel said urgently.
Subdued, Thal considered the grave reports from Mileko about the fortifications of Tekax. His father’s resistance to speaking of the matter irked h
im, but he tried to have faith that his father was ruminating some worthy strategy.
Thal said, “There is a sorcerer, Tekax. He is an enemy of my father from long ago. When he learned of my existence, he sent his agents to kill me. They failed obviously, but Father says we must confront Tekax and end this threat. Essentially, my actions are self defense.”
“Where is this sorcerer?” Johan asked.
Thal answered that he possessed a fortress in the Hungarian Highlands and then added, “Tekax has a dark servant who might be our greatest foe. He’s an arrogant abomination made of dark magic called a fext. Janfelter is his name, and he recovers from mortal wounds and his blood is poison.”
This dire report dampened the mood of his eager new pack.
“When will we go against them, my Lord?” Harvath inquired. In the mines, he had learned to consider daunting tasks from practical angles.
“Not yet,” Thal muttered, disgruntled with his murky future, but he shook off the gloom for the sake of appearing confident. “We must get you outfitted first. Everyone needs better clothing and gear. I bid thee to find what you can in castle or village or arrange for your things to be made,” he said.
Thal left them beaming with approval for his order. He strode up the tower determined to speak with his father.
Chapter 18. Wolfmen Attack
The pair of wolf hides hit the table with a thud. Bloody bits clung to the edges of the fresh skins, and dark stains clotted the fur where traps had bitten deep and mangled flesh and bones.
Tekax nudged the hides apart with his cane.
“Only two?” he said.
“I’ve cleared out much of the vermin. Not so many to catch anymore,” the kreisjager explained. He looped his thumbs over his thick belt and waited patiently. He knew that the sorcerer would pay him.
Tekax beckoned his boy who set a box on the table. Tekax took out two silver coins. The metal glittered all the brighter alongside the dingy skin of his bony fingers.
He slapped the coins down on the table. “Remain vigilant. Wolves could enter this territory at any time,” he said.
