Red and Her Wolf

by Marie Hall

  “It was the truth I’d tried to show ye last night. I didn’t ken if it would work in yer sleep.” He turned his back to her, staring at the wall. The muscles in his back rippled as a shudder took him. “Ye glowed, yellow. When I licked ye, I tasted the essence of sunshine and wild fae magic. Do ye ken who ye are, lass?”

  He turned, and she sucked in a sharp breath. His eyes, so human before, were now pure wolf. Tawny, with a vertical black slit. Breathtaking, but oh so dangerous. Her body thrilled even as her heart raced with forbidden desire.

  “No,” she shook her head. “No one tells me anything.” Looking at her feet, she nibbled on her lower lip. “Was that true? Was all that true?”

  He knelt beside her, his finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him. She flinched, but held his gaze, spellbound by him.

  “Aye. All of it.” His whisper was a caress against her lips.

  Her lashes fluttered. “I’ve hated you for so long. I’m scared to stop.”

  Alien eyes searched hers. “Why?”

  “Because,” she swallowed hard, “then it means everything I knew was wrong. My grandmother hated me, my aunt lied to me.”

  Blunt fingertips feathered across her cheekbones and the touch burned a path straight through her body, filled her legs with heat and longing.

  “I haven’t, and I won’t. Yer my mate.”

  She closed her eyes. “Please don’t say that.”

  His hand left and his warmth went with it. She yearned for more, but didn’t know how to ask, how to plead for something that her brain said was so wrong. It was hard reconciling fact with fiction, knowing how wrong she’d been. It made her sick, fueled an anger that now had no release.

  “Did you come to kill me too?” Her voice sounded childlike.

  He was standing by the wall again, his eyes hooded. “Aye.”

  It was a knife to the heart.

  “I would have ripped yer throat out and never looked back. I didn’t know ye, and I dinna care to know ye.”

  She ground her molars, picking at her blood stained dress. “But you couldn’t because you found out I was your mate, is that it?” Panting, she let the anger take her, felling her limbs grow sure and strong, her blood pulse with adrenaline.

  “Stop trying to find reasons to hate me, Red. I’m nay the one ye must fight.”

  She snapped her head up, glaring at him.

  He lifted a shaggy black brow. “Going to deny it?”

  Nostrils flaring, it was on the tip of her tongue to tell him to go to hell. But a small voice she rarely heard, and never heeded, called her bluff. She was still trying to find a reason to hate him.

  “How do I let go of something that was my constant companion all these years?”

  “One day at a time.” Grabbing the knotted section of fabric wrapped around his slim waist, he tugged, releasing the wrap and standing fully nude.

  Goddess he was beautiful. Every part of him was sculpted perfection. Blushing, she glanced away.

  “I hear footsteps headed our way, it’s time to go. I do not wish to say goodbye, or be caught. Kermani showed me the dream stone that would open the portal last night. Keep to the shadows.”

  White light flared from every pore, burning so bright she had to cover her eyes. When the light died, a big black wolf stared back at her.

  Chapter 9

  Ewan studied the woods, while alternately glancing at Red’s shadowy form hidden behind a large barrel shaped tree. Since leaving the Eastern realm six hours ago, they’d made their way slowly through a forest unlike any he’d ever known.

  Crushing the dream stone beneath his paw, he’d opened the portal, able to leave before any eyes spotted their departure.

  The incident last night had left him shaken and disturbed. Who was this woman? His mate? She was violent, ancient, yet in so many ways still young and naïve, untried in the ways of the world.

  Tasting the wind, he plucked through the miasma of scent laden breeze. There was gingerbread, peppermint, and even the faintest whiff of molten chocolate.

  Violet had stared in wide eyed wonder when they’d arrived at their next destination. Quiet and much more subdued than the day prior, as if she was thinking, sorting through thoughts, more likely wondering about not only him, but herself. Who she was and where she fit in this strange new world.

  Again he glanced at her wraith-like form; pride bloomed in his chest seeing her move between the trees. Stealthy and silent, it was obvious to him she’d done this before. Her movements barely disturbed the gum drop leaves scattered upon the cookie crumble forest floor.

  The sky was edged in bright washes of lavender and tangerine, a moon--not two planets--rested pregnant in a sky ready to descend into darkness.

  Every so often her scent would tickle his nose, there was light, but like Miriam had warned in her letter… there was darkness too. Something malignant and foul that lingered in her blood. Huffing, blowing the stench from his nostrils he padded silently forward.

  These forests were a macabre and intentional design. Within these woods lived a witch who preyed on the young. Every tree, every rock was made of sweets. Luring the children in deeper, making them forget the safety they’d left behind.

  It would be good to rid Kingdom of the crone, but her death wouldn’t come by him.

  Licking his muzzle, he glanced at her yet again. They’d not spoken a word since leaving his room. Ewan knew this form bothered her, saw it in the way she glanced at him when she didn’t think he was looking.

  She was afraid, and he wished he could tell her not to be. That in this form he could kill, smell and see better than in his weaker human one. That he could, and would protect her from any and all harm. But the tradeoff for strength was his inability to communicate with her.

  The path led straight and unswervingly forward. Many times his stomach grumbled, demanding protein. But to touch anything here was to alert the crone to their presence.

  He wasn’t sure how he felt about Red being the one to take her on. Miriam had called her a soul sucker, but hadn’t explained what that was. How to use the ‘gift’. The crone had killed many, Violet had killed one wolf, and had very nearly killed herself in the process.

  He swallowed hard.

  A thud sounded like a loud pop in his ears and he spun, the hairs on the back of his neck rose as he growled low in his throat. Nothing lived in these woods of horror. There were no land animals, no birds, no gentle hum of insects.

  The crone had eaten them all.

  He wasn’t sure what he’d find, a hidden trap, some beast let loose. Perhaps Red had begun nibbling on a tree branch. He should have warned her, he hadn’t thought she might not know the land as he did.

  But it was none of those things. She was on her knees, head bowed, the red cowl covering her entire face. Calling the unbecoming, Ewan exhaled through the change, breathing through a transformation that pulled at bone and skin.

  “Lass?” He trotted up to her and knelt by her side, heart clenching violently when he noticed the fat drops spilling from her cheeks.

  “Who am I?” She sobbed, finally looking at him, blue eyes streaked through with red veins, as if she’d been rubbing them for hours. “What am I?”

  Lips twisting, he looked over his shoulders, studying the unnatural calm of the woods. The witch wouldn’t come tonight; he’d not smelled her rot and Violet needed him.

  Sitting, he crossed his ankles, and studied her. She didn’t blink.

  “Who am I?”

  Needing to touch her, to comfort her anyway he could, he grabbed her hand. Expecting she’d yank it away and hiss at him, she flinched, but didn’t pull back.

  “Yer the Heartsong.”

  Gathering a corner of her hem, she dabbed at her eyes. “But what is that? Can you help me? Can you tell me the truth?”

  For just a moment he understood why everyone had lied to her, because he was tempted to tell her nonsense himself. Perhaps to spare her feelings, or just because he was a coward and di
dn’t want to face anymore of her hate. He sighed, and tenderly rubbed her knuckles, amazed she let him.

  “I don’t know all of it,” he began, and her eyes grew hopeful, “but yer the result of fairy magic.”

  “Grandmother told me I was born of fairy magic, that it made me kind and gentle.... and…” she frowned when he shook his head.

  “Jana was a liar, lass.”

  She looked away. “I keep forgetting. That.”

  She looked so fragile, weak. Her face eternally youthful, it would be so easy to see the package and forget that beneath the large blue eyes and innocent smile lurked madness and death. He’d witnessed it for himself last night.

  “Do ye ken who the Ten are?”

  “The high fairy council?” she asked, and he nodded.

  “Aye. They were too powerful, and Kingdom feared that unless they weakened themselves, one could become bloated with greed and a thirst for power.”

  Her breathing grew shallow, slow, as if she feared moving or in any way distracting him from talking.

  Continuing to toy with the soft flesh between her thumb and finger, he talked. “They agreed to bleed off the darkness. All of them, even the Black Malvena. The night of the purification ritual, they all gathered beneath a large moon on a grassy plain. But Malvena dinna come.”

  “Why?” she whispered.

  He looked at the tree, absently noting the rough texture of the gingerbread bark. His stomach groaned, gut twisted in knots with hunger. “Because two days prior, her daughter Rose had died and a seed was born in that dark heart. Reanimation. Bringing the dead back to life.”

  “Isn’t that forbidden?”

  “Aye. It is. And the only way to do it is to use dark sorcery. But on her own, she is nay strong enough. The other nine dinna bother with her, they proceeded on with the purification and dumped their darkness within the land.”

  Her eyes looked sad and haunted. “That’s when I was born. I wasn’t born of light at all. I’m evil.”

  He grasped her chin, not allowing her to break eye contact with him. “I killed, maimed, and tortured. I’m a wolf. Not born to be evil, and yet, I was.”

  Red glanced away and he sighed.

  “Just because yer born a certain way, doesna mean that is who ye are.”

  “Maybe it does.” She pulled her hand back and jerked his thumb off her chin. “Why have you brought me to the witch’s woods?”

  What should he say? Yer aunt told me to come here so that ye can kill the witch by sucking out her soul? But I swear to ya, yer nay evil, lassie. Bloody hell, he hated the fairies at this moment.

  “Tell me the truth, please. I can handle it. I just can’t handle anymore lies.”

  Bathed in moonlight, she looked ethereal and lovely. Maybe this was how he’d get her to trust him, truth at all cost, even if the telling of it pained him to do so.

  “She called ye a soul sucker.”

  Her face scrunched. “A what?”

  Ewan shrugged. “I don’t know, Red. That was all she said.”

  “So I suck out souls? That’s my magic?”

  “One of.”

  Grabbing her stomach, she leaned forward. “I think I’m gonna be sick.” Her face looked splotchy and pale. “I only thought I could heal. Jana told me I couldn’t do magic. I never…”

  “She lied, about everything. Jana was a wicked, evil woman. Doona try and make sense of anything ye knew before, especially when the truth is so much different.

  “Also…” he rubbed her head, tucking her hair behind her face in case she expelled the meager contents of her stomach. “If yer going to puke, try not to puke on the candy. Ye might alert the witch to our presence.”

  “What?” She laughed, and instantly the sickly pallor on her face lightened. “Oh gods, this isn’t funny. None of this is.”

  Then she laughed even harder, the musical tinkle of her melodic voice made his lips twitch in return. It took a moment for her to get herself under control.

  “Thanks, Ewan, I needed that.”

  Everything inside him stopped. She’d used his name, but this time it’d sounded hopeful, alive, and the sound of it was almost as good as tender caress. Heat nestled in his gut, filled his loins. He scooted back, hiding the evidence of his desire, knowing she wasn’t ready for him yet. Nudity never bothered him, it simply was the way of the wolf, but he wished for some clothing now, if only to make her comfortable.

  He nodded. “Are ye tired, Red?”

  She nodded. “A little. I didn’t sleep much last night.”

  “Neither did I.” His lips tightened, trying to forget the reason why. “I don’t smell the witch, we’re safe to stay here tonight, rest while ye can. I’ll keep watch.”

  “Okay.” Glancing around, she spotted a thick cluster of gumdrop leaves and settled upon it.

  Planting his hands behind his back, he listened to the eerie night. There was nothing save for the gentle breeze, her soft inhalations, and the steady gurgle of the chocolate stream in the distance.

  Enough time passed he’d thought her asleep, when she said, “I’m scared.”

  Her face was covered in shadow, her red dress looking like a sea of blood upon the ground.

  “I know. Me too.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’ve waited so long to know ye, the thought of losing ye now is more than I can bear.”

  She didn’t answer, and he didn’t think she would. Maybe he shouldn’t have said it, but truth at all costs…

  “Are ye going to try to kill yerself again, Red?”

  A second ticked by, then another, until finally she shook her head. “I’m sorry for that. I didn’t really want to kill myself, I knew I would heal from that wound. I didn’t actually cut my vein, just cut deep enough to make it bleed really bad.” She sighed. “I wanted to hurt you.”

  “Don’t do it again,” he gnashed his teeth, letting the pain leak out, letting her hear the depths of his plea.

  She didn’t say anything, but their gazes locked and he knew she understood. Her lashes gave the barest flicker before she turned and rolled onto her side. Eventually she fell asleep, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Several hours later he noticed her shivering, drawing her legs up to her body and wrapping the dress tighter around herself.

  Calling the unbecoming, he got up and trotted to her side. Scooting in as close to her body as he could, he shared his wolf’s warmth with her. She sighed, her fingers ran through his pelt and his body trembled.

  ***

  “I don’t like this place,” Red grumbled as she knelt by the thick viscous stream. “There’s no water to wash myself with. Nothing but this chocolate I cannot even touch.”

  He grinned. “I donna think this place was created for the likes of us.”

  She glared at him, her blond brows drawn into a fierce scowl. “Food everywhere and I can’t even have a bite. I hate sweets, and right now I think I could gobble an entire tree.” She stared at a gingerbread elm longingly.

  Grabbing her hand, he helped her stand. “Trust me, lass, ye dinna want what the witch has to offer. All is not what it seems.”

  She curled her lips, huffing, and dusting sparkling bits of sugar off her luscious rear. “I’m hungry and irritable. Let’s go find this stupid witch, before I forget myself and dive head first into that chocolate river.”

  Red stood there, staring down at the stream with a sad, pitiful expression. She’d barely eaten the day before, only picking at her food. Ewan wanted to provide for her, but to do so would mean backtracking, which he could not do.

  “C’mon, Red,” he tugged on her finger. “Doona look. Walk away.”

  Sighing, she turned her back on the stream and he gave her a swift tilt of his lips. Calling the becoming, Ewan quickly switched forms. They resumed walking, Red within the forest itself. She seemed possessed with a natural instinct to shy away from being easily spotted. Preferring to traipse through the rougher terrain, so as not to be exposed to the elements of the unprotec
ted trail he walked on.

  Not that he didn’t want to join her, but he sensed keeping his distance for a while might help her better acclimate to not only her strange surroundings, but also him. Ewan wanted to ravish her, take her, drive into her and roar to the heavens that she was his mate. It wasn’t easy controlling his baser instincts.