by Ava Walsh
“I just wanted to see Harrod. I have to talk to him about something. It’s really important.”
“Ah, you two are dating.” He says that more like a statement than a question.
“I’m not really sure you can call it that, but your son and I like each other very much.”
“‘Like’ wouldn’t have made you come all the way here, all the while knowing he wasn’t here.”
“No, we do love each other. It just seems strange to say it so soon, but we are probably headed in that direction.”
“You are cautious, just like your mother.”
“You know my mother?”
“Everybody knows your mother. Senator Daphna has been one of the finest.”
“But I never told Harrod about my mother. How do you know all this?”
“Your mother and I have crossed paths quite often, mostly on the wrong foot. She gives us a hard time in Congress. Nevertheless, like yourself, she is a brilliant woman. Dedicated, hardworking and passionate. We are acquainted.”
“Right, and I can guess what you do.”
“Best not to speak of it. Now, back to why you are here.”
“I’d much rather talk to him.”
“Except you know you can’t. So I’m all you have for the time being. Now you can tell me what it is and I’ll help you as I see fit, or you can wait till later tonight to talk to him. Take your pick and decide fast, because I don’t have all day.”
“I’m pregnant,” I blurt out. To say that Harrod’s father is intimidating would be an understatement. He sweetly pressurized me and then threw the time bomb. Or maybe I am hormonal. I’m normally better at staying calm
“What? What has that got to do with…” He pauses, then pours himself another drink and shakes his head.
“Harrod?” he asks, looking at me.
I nod. “It was just the one time.”
“Harrod is the father of your baby?” He laughs. “I don’t believe this.”
“I’m telling the truth,” I say, indignant.
“Sorry, no, I don’t mean I doubt you. I’m just surprised. Harrod has always been careful, followed the rules, all those things. You know how it is for families like ours. And now this.” He laughs again.
“Are you implying that I—”
“I am not implying anything,” he chides. “When did you find out?”
“About two hours ago. I didn’t know what to do or where to go.”
“I’m glad you came here. How far along are you?”
“Three weeks.”
“Do you want to visit Harrod?” he asks. “I have a private jet. I can send you off now. But you can’t come back until Harrod completes his training, which is going to be another week.”
“He never told me he was…what is he training for?”
“I think it’s best if you go there and find out for yourself.”
“So where will I be going?”
“I can’t tell you that, but the place is safe.”
“My mother will want to know.”
“I’ll handle your mother. Besides, you’re grown woman. Tell her to stop being a helicopter parent.”
“I’m sure you know how it is,” I say. “Security issues and all that.”
He nods, finishing his drink.
“Are you going to keep the baby?”
“I’ll decide when I talk to Harrod. I think we’ll make a decision together.”
“Well, whatever you decide, I hope you do keep the baby. This life is lonely. Harrod and I have always been alone. It wouldn’t hurt to have a pup in the den.”
“A pup?”
“You know, a baby wolf.”
“I doubt such ferocious beings exist among our kind.”
“You’d be surprised,” he says.
He stays for another half an hour and chats. In spite of his cockiness and impassiveness, I see a lonely man. He tells me about his wife, her mental illness and how he never married again because he’s still in love with her. He also talks a lot about the baby, what I’ll do and where I’ll stay, if we decide to keep the baby. His eyes sparkle whenever he mentions the baby, icy cold and blue like Harrod’s.
An hour later, I find myself on a private jet, circling a forest on a mountain. Down below, the only sign of civilization is a short strip of tar and asphalt — a runway.
Chapter Ten - In The Middle of Nowhere
Siobhan
As the plane lands, I spot two heads in the trees. One of them is Harrod, of course, although I can’t tell which one. From the distance, they both look the same. The plane halts and I wait inside until those guys are here. The forest is beautiful, but also terrifying.
When Harrod walks in, I’m surprised at how different he looks.
“Harrod,” I say, getting up. “You look so different. What have…” Then the actual Harrod steps in.
“Siobhan,” he says, surprised. He pushes the other guy aside, locks me in an embrace and kisses me. “What are you doing here?”
“I went to your place and raised hell, so your father sent me here.”
“Did he? You must have been pretty convincing.”
“You never told me you had a twin. Who is this?”
“This is my brother,” he says.
“Hi, I’m Harrison,” the other guy says.
“Wow, the resemblance is uncanny,” I say, shaking his hand. “Harrod never told me he had a brother.”
“Yeah, he didn’t know,” he says.
“How are you now?” Harrod asks.
“I’m fine. I still have the stomach bug.”
“I was worried about you,” he says. “I’m glad you’re here.”
As we step out of the plane, I ask, “So, where are we? Your father’s secret science facility?”
“Something like that,” he says.
It’s a 15-minute walk into a fenced community, a village of sorts. Harrod introduces me to his Grandpa and a woman called Mishayev. ‘Misha is my teacher here,’ he tells me.
“What does she teach you? What are you here for, secret service training?”
“No. I’ll tell you later.”
“No, you said you’ll tell me when we are together, I can’t wait anymore. Tell me what took you away from me.”
I perch on an ottoman in what appears to be a common room, and Harrod gets on behind me, legs and arms around me. It feels safe inside his arms.
“I need to warn you first and prepare you. This shit is crazy.”
“Whatever it is, tell me. Go ahead, I can take it. Can’t be crazier than everything else that has happened, with me coming out to the middle of nowhere to be with a guy I only had one date with.”
“But—”
“No buts,” I say, cutting him off. “Tell me now.”
“Harrison, do the honors, will you?”
What happens next is, simply put, crazy. I should have freaked out, I should have, but I don’t. I am inside his arms, I am safe. I know that no harm will come to me. But it takes my breath away anyway.
“So, your brother is a shape-shifter,” I say, letting out a long breath.
“Not a shape-shifter,” he says, rubbing my arm, turning me on. “A werewolf.”
“And you?”
“Me too. Everyone here is.”
“And your dad knows about this?”
“He’s one too. Like I said, Siobhan, we all are. Except my mother.”
“Oh.”
“I think that’s probably why my dad sent you here, so you could find out before things get serious.”
“Before things get serious, Harrod, seriously? We still have a before?”
“I mean, you know, so you can get out while you can.”
“So if I want to get out, you won’t stop me?”
“If this is too much for you, why would I?”
“So you’d let me go just like that,” I say, slightly angry.
“I’d try like hell to stop you, but I won’t force you.”
“I’m cool with it,”
I say. “Growing up in a political family, I’ve seen stuff way more messed up than this. Nothing like this, but still. I think I can get used to this. But I sure as hell won’t be living here forever.”
“Neither will I,” he says. “But we’ll have to come here every full moon. I’ll have to.”
Then I ask him something really stupid, something a child would ask. “Can you turn me into a werewolf?”
“With a bite, yes.”
“Cool,” she says. “Do it. Bite me.”
“It doesn’t work like that,” he tells me. “Only an Alpha’s bite can do that, and I am not an Alpha yet.”
“Get the Alpha to bite me then.”
“Six days from now, I have to face my brother in The Pit. If I can beat him there, I’ll become the Alpha. We’ll think about it then. But I can’t wait to bite you in other circumstances.” His hand finds its way into my shirt and around my stomach. He turns me around, rubs my back and kisses me again.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he says.
“I missed you, too,” I say.
I close my eyes and draw in a long breath, taking in his masculine smell, his intoxicating juniper cologne. He pushes me down on the ottoman and tries to get on top.
“Not here,” I whisper.
“They don’t mind.”
“I’m shy.”
“Okay,” he says, kissing me again. “You should go rest, anyway. You must be tired. Mishayev will show you to our room.”
“Okay.” I give him a quick kiss and leave with Mishayev.
She takes me to Harrod’s room, which is a mess, as can be expected.
“You will get cold. Let me bring you some fur.”
“Thank you.”
She comes back ten minutes later, carrying three different colored fur coats.
“Wow, these are real,” I say, feeling the soft fur, trying one out. “These are so warm and light.”
“Yeah, these are real.”
“Thank you,” I repeat.
She smiles, then looks at me strangely.
“What is it,” I ask.
“You love him?”
“I guess…yeah.”
She smiles. “He’s a good guy. Training here is hard, coming to terms with everything, but he’s patient. He’s doing it all very well. He’s a keeper. Don’t break his heart.”
“I won’t,” I promise, hand over my heart.
“If you need anything or have any questions, you can come to me,” she says, and turns to leave.
“Misha,” I say, “I can call you that, right?”
“Call me whatever you want,” she says.
“I wanted to ask you something,”
“What is it?”
“Is there a doctor here?”
“We have an infirmary. It has all the modern equipment and our doctors are great. But don’t go there alone.”
“Okay,” I say.
“Are you okay?” she asks, concerned.
“I’m fine. I was just curious.”
“Right. You should rest now, and I’ll wake you up for dinner.”
Chapter Eleven - The First Snow, The Good Tidings
Siobhan
Mishayev wakes me up late in the evening.
“Put on your coat,” she says. “It’s going to be freezing tonight.”
“As if it isn’t already,” I reply, shivering in my skin.
When I step out, I see the snow falling softly, slowly, mixing with the dark mud. It compliments it, makes it look nicer, somehow serene. The sun is setting in the distance, and although we can’t see it from here, the snowflakes gathered on the ground are bathed in a soft orange light.
“It’s a good omen,” Misha says.
“Snowfall? People hate snow where I come from, but then it never looks this beautiful.”
“We have a saying among our pack, passed down the generations. It says visitors bring the weather with them, and if they bring snow, it means they bring good luck. You have brought us glad tidings.”
“What tidings?” I ask, as we step outside. A gentle gust of wind hits me, getting under my fur coat through the sleeves, freezing me to the bone. I remove my hands from the sleeves and wrap it around me like a shawl, blocking the wind as best as I can.
“It is not always known right away,” she says. “But they come out soon. Here, at least.”
“What do you mean?”
“Keeping good news to yourself is considered a sacrilege here. There is a lot of misery out there in the world, and when the Almighty sends his blessings, they should be shared and spread. What’s his to share is not yours to conceal.”
“Do you believe in God?” I ask, hoping she says no.
I don’t want to get tangled with this sort of thing. What if Harrod asks me to convert to his religion or something? I would never be up for that. I make a mental note to get these issues out of the way before telling him I’m pregnant. That is, if I tell him I’m pregnant. I’m having second thoughts now. In the safety of his arms, under his warmth and scent, I felt safe. I wasn’t shocked by what I saw. Maybe it was because I was too tired to react, too hormonal to give a hoot. But reality is sinking in now and I’m starting to feel creeped out.
“No,” she says. “We don’t worship beings like that.”
“Then what do you mean by Almighty?”
“You can use whichever word you want for it. It’s just a word, at the end of the day. We believe in a higher power, but we don’t know how or what that power is. The teachings have been handed down from generation to generation to spread goodness and tolerance. Our focus is not on the being but on the teachings. What harm does that do? We don’t differentiate or label people or treat them differently for what they are.”
“As in?”
“In the other packs, Harrod and Harrison would be half-bloods. They wouldn’t be allowed to become Alpha, ever. You wouldn’t be allowed to marry or breed with Harrod; it would be an abomination. The other packs are harsh, divided. We aren’t. It’s the teachings that keep us grounded and strong. We don’t treat you as different, even though you are an anomaly in our world. To us, you are a person. If it were some other pack, you’d have been killed.”
“Misha,” I say, inspired by her motherly tone, or perhaps guilt-trapped. “I do bring tidings, but I am not sure if they are good or bad. I wanted to talk to Harrod first before I told anyone.”
“Shh,” she says, one finger on her dark lips. “Don’t speak of it until you are ready. The wind does not keep secrets.” She puts a cigarette in her mouth and lights it. “I’d offer you one, but…” She pauses mid-sentence and gives me a knowing smile.
“It’s fine, I don’t smoke anyway.”
“He’ll be happy,” she says. “I won’t force you to tell him, but don’t hold it in for too long.”
Chapter Twelve - When the Reality Sinks In
Harrod
When I return from my training with Harrod and Grandpa, I find Siobhan sauntering in the woods with Mishayev, away from the cabins, her expression serious.
“Is she bothering you?” I ask, pointing towards Misha with my finger.
“No, she has been educating me,” Siobhan says.
“What if I am bothering her?” Mishayev says. “I could rip your throat before you could bat an eye.”
“Try me,” I say.
“Don’t do anything, please, stop,” Siobhan pleads in a panic.
“We’re joking,” I say. “Misha and I banter a lot.”
“I’ll leave you two alone,” Mishayev says, nodding. As she walks back to the cabins, she flicks out her cigarette and puts it out with her foot.
“Finally I have you to myself,” I say, reaching for her hand.
“Finally,” she says, with mock excitement.
“You look worried,” I say. “What’s wrong?”
“Harrod, I don’t know. I think I’m confused. So much has happened so fast, so much is happening.”
“I know, believe me, I do. I found this ou
t when I came here, and trust me, I was freaked out way more than you are. But living with them, it’s not too different. They are just people. The shifting can be terrifying, though.”
“No, I am just worried about the other thing,” she says.
“What thing?”
“Oh, nothing. Don’t mind me, I’m just rambling.”
“Siobhan, what are you not telling me?”
“Nothing, let it go.”
“Tell me, come on.”
“I am just…”
“What?”
“I am just a little freaked out.”
“About what?”
“About us, about the future, about everything.”
“We’ll take it in a stride, don’t you worry about it.”
We walk to the lake. I brush off the fresh snow from a boulder and we sit on it. The wind rustles her hair and I push a stray strand away from her face.
“Harrod,” she says.
“Yeah?”
“Don’t freak out if this sounds weird, but I have to let it out.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never dated anyone before.”
“I think I could tell that you hadn’t. Ask away.”
“Do you think you want to get married? Not right now, but in the future, maybe?”
“I never thought about it seriously until I met you. And if it is you, then I think yeah, I would want to marry. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, making you happy.”
“What about having kids?”
“Never thought about it. It would be cool, I suppose. Dad would be very happy, though,” I say. “Would you be okay with marrying a werewolf? What do you think about marriage?”
“I think I am past all that. I always knew I would marry, so yeah. But don’t feel any pressure.”
“I’ll be the Alpha soon. I don’t feel any pressure other than having to fight against my own brother.”
“Don’t fight your own brother,” she says.
“I have no choice. I’m a half-breed here. I have to prove that I have what it takes.”
Chapter Thirteen – Love by the Lake
Siobhan
