The werewolf’s hand concealed the wound that Tobias had left on his arm. Blood seeped down and dripped from his fingertips. The wound would be slow to heal since it was inflicted by a silver blade and the next few seconds while he recovered would be crucial in taking him out.
Oliver had foolishly left his gun back at the inn, confident that they wouldn’t need it for a scouting mission. Two knives against two sets of claws and a mouthful of fangs. They were at a terrible disadvantage, but if they could get one lucky stab in, they could make their escape and reload before any other werewolf came as backup.
Tobias, with one hand inoperable, took a few bounding steps toward the monster who charged forward to meet him halfway. They scuffled, but he found himself thrown back against the brick building. The back of his head hit hard and stars danced in his vision for a moment.
A second later, he heard his partner let out a stifled scream. The beast must have thought now would be the perfect time to deal with Oliver while Tobias was still reeling. In the flurry of blade and claw, he knew that he had sustained several gashes on his arms and chest. His shirt and vest became saturated by the blood that poured out of him. He wasn’t sure if he had done any damage to the werewolf.
He turned just in time to see another beast had appeared in the alleyway. As black as the shadows that surrounded them, only his golden eyes glinted with calm, but malevolent intent. He straddled over Oliver’s body as if he had dropped from the rooftop of one of the buildings beside them. His partner’s head was twisted into an unnatural way. Dead.
There was an exclamation of irritation and astonishment from the other werewolf, but Tobias didn’t understand much of it through the dizzying haze as he lost more blood.
Within the time it took to blink, the second werewolf leapt for him. His knife was lodged into the stomach of the beast, but he wasn’t slowed down by the silver. Two hands grabbed at his head. The last thing he heard was a sharp pop. His world spun out of focus and then everything went black. The smell of salty sea water lingered in his fading senses.
Chapter Eleven
Darren and Johannes sat on the railing that skirted the veranda. Both watched over the younger loups-garous who tended the front gardens. Dustin pulled weeds by himself some distance away with his back turned to the chateau, and his alpha kept one eye on him while he surveyed over the others. It had only been a few days, but his young ward hadn’t fallen in with any of the boys yet. He talked with a few, but it was as if he purposefully kept himself from joining them in anything. Not in conversation at the dinner table and not during this morning’s training session as they worked on controlling their strength. A practice that had been part of the chateau since before Darren’s time.
Johannes had just commented on the topic, but Darren didn’t have an answer. Not one that he could share anyway. After what the young loup-garou had confessed the evening before, everything was perfectly clear now. All the sad looks, the unexpected moments of silent reserve, everything pointed to this one misfortune that he blamed himself for.
He wasn’t so blind not to see the similarities between them and what they suffered in relative secret. Both had lost their wives too soon in their marriages and both blamed themselves for it. Time would heal their wounds, just as John had said. But that didn’t make it any easier. Their one consolation was that they could lean to one another for support as time dragged on. And it seemed that Dustin finally understood what it meant to be part of a pack and share in their trials.
“He will adjust soon enough,” Darren said quietly, knowing that some of the boys would be listening. “He just needs the right encouragement.”
“And you?” Johannes asked. “Will you stay with him?”
It was a redundant question. “Of course, I’ll stay. He’s my pack. I can’t leave him now. Besides, we have a lot of catching up to do.” He ribbed his old friend, nearly throwing him off balance.
The two chuckled as the sun continued to shine down, chasing away the chilly morning that met them before breakfast. Inside the house, he could hear Noah complain about having to study and Irene’s constant rebukes that he still wasn’t allowed in the gardens. It had been too long since he stayed at the chateau, and though John and Gregory were away visiting Nicu in Albi, it still felt like the closest thing to home he ever had.
A melody rose up from the gardens and Darren turned to its source. The Irishman was humming a tune, soft at first, and then louder. It was a playful, bouncing ballad that Darren had heard from somewhere before, but couldn’t place the source. Soon, the Irishman’s mouth opened and the lyrics spilled out.
“The bee shall honey taste no more, the dove become a ranger. The falling waters cease to roar, e’re I shall seek to change her.”
Darren smiled at his lovely singing voice, deep and in perfect pitch, but the words were melancholy despite this. All heads swiveled in his direction and their hands stilled over the flowerbeds, some holding up weeds that had been relieved of the soil and some just gripping the stalks of others.
“The vows we made to heav'n above shall ever cheer and bind me. In constancy to her I love, the girl I left behind me.”
He dragged out the next note and then started the song over again at the first verse with deep conviction and passion in every word. Some of the boys were confused by this display. Others joined and sang the familiar song with him, which might have been all the encouragement he needed to know that he was not alone here at the chateau. He never would be.
Darren listened to the lyrics and the way his Irish brogue sounded out each lilting syllable. The words themselves found their way to wrap around his heart and his faith was restored in Dustin’s ability to cope with the recent tragedies. In these words, he acknowledged that this wasn’t the end of his love and devotion to Cassandra, that nothing could change what happened between them before she died. It wasn’t an end, but a new beginning. Maybe he could even learn a thing or two from the Irishman.
The scents of John and Gregory were blown to him on the wind that swept in momentarily from the west. But someone else was returning with them. Someone he didn’t recognize. He knew it couldn’t have been Nicu or any of the other loups-garous from Albi. He knew them all, unless they gained a new member recently.
Upon the hill, he saw three figures come out of the forest. The stranger was dressed modestly in dark clothes that nearly matched his weathered skin. Thick black hair was pulled back at the nape of his neck, and eyes of the same shade drank in the sight of the chateau and the young loups-garous in the garden. He had never seen a loup-garou of color before, but it didn’t surprise him.
If John hadn’t been accompanying the man, Darren would have intercepted him long ago. He knew the man was also loup-garou and though he didn’t carry with him that air of danger, his form was certainly intimidating. Almost equal to Gregory in stature, he was not to be taken lightly.
Beside him, Johannes tensed, and Darren understood that he didn’t recognize their new guest either. Dustin cut off his ballad and looked to the hill, as all the other boys did. They were curious, just as they had been when Darren arrived the other day.
The trio approached and Darren couldn’t help but stare at the foreigner and the staff he carried with him. By the symbols, he knew them to be Egyptian. They were similar to the ones he had read in an explorer’s journal many years ago.
Darren and Johannes swung their legs over the railing to meet John as he strode up the steps.
“I trust everything is well?” he asked first, motioning toward the boys who resumed their gardening. Though, Darren could tell that they were also preoccupied with listening in on the conversation, waiting for an introduction to the dark-skinned loup-garou.
They both nodded. “No trouble, if that’s what you mean.” For the first time, Darren tore his eyes away from the stranger and assessed the condition of his old mentor. They all looked weary, as if they hadn’t slept. “Is Nicu and his pack well?”
John blinked and then gave his
affirmation to the question before turning to the man who had drawn so much attention to himself. “Allow me to introduce Tor. We met him last night while visiting Nicu’s pack. He’s newly arrived to France after a short stay in Italy, but he says he’s traveled all over the world.”
“Parts of it,” Tor corrected with a smile. His deep voice caught Darren off guard. “But this is my first visit to France.” He gave a short bow to each loup-garou as John introduced them in turn.
“Your accent,” Johannes pointed out. “Are you from Africa?”
“Egypt,” he replied, his white teeth gleaming against his nearly black skin. “More specifically, I come from Asyut. I’ve been traveling in Africa for the last sixty years. Before that, I sailed around India and New Holland.”
Johannes’ eyes lit up with excitement. He held a particular fascination for world exploration and Darren knew his friend would be bending Tor’s ear for as long as he was staying with them.
“I extended an invitation for him to stay at the chateau in return for a favor he paid us last night while with Nicu,” John explained.
Gregory, unconcerned with the formalities, walked past them all and into the shady foyer of the chateau. Johannes was already leaning forward to examine the glyphs on Tor’s staff and he obligingly held it up so he could see better. Questions came spilling out at this show of openness and Darren couldn’t help but smile at his eager friend.
John edged closer to Darren and he could almost feel the fatigue pouring off of him in waves.
“Are you well?” he asked.
His mentor nodded. “Yes, I’m well. We just had some business to take care of in Albi and it’s done.” Brown eyes skimmed over the gardens and the boys talking amongst themselves. “It’s finally done.”
Darren knew there must have been more to what he said, but it wasn’t his place to pry. If John wanted to be secretive, then he very well could. He was entitled to a few after all he had done for the chateau and these young loups-garous. Whatever this business was, it must have been why he looked as tired and haggard as he did.
“Perhaps you should rest,” Darren suggested. John glanced to Tor and Johannes. “I’ll make sure he’s attended to,” he assured.
With a thankful, but weak smile, John nodded and disappeared into the chateau. He didn’t get far before Noah came running down the stairs to greet him with rapid-fire questions. And as any father would, he attempted to answer each in the simplest way possible.
Darren wondered if he would ever have children again, if he would ever remarry. Unlike John, he had never had such a conversation with Eleanor. No blessing was ever given in regard to the idea of him taking another wife. A cool breeze swept across the estate at the thought of it. He wasn’t normally a spiritual or superstitious man. Once a person was dead, they were gone and so were their spirits. He didn’t believe in ghosts or signs, but part of him wondered if that simple, regular act of nature was some indication from heaven that Eleanor would want him to love again.
He still wasn’t sure if he could, or if Dustin could. Looking back to the young Irishman in the garden, Darren wasn’t sure of anything for now. All he wanted to think of were the next few years spent at the chateau. After that, they would decide what they would do. England, perhaps? Or maybe the colonies who were in the budding age of revolutionary change? Italy was mentioned and Darren remembered a long ago conversation about Florence and the beautiful vineyards there.
The world was open to them, but for now, he tried to enjoy the morning. Eleanor and Lucy would have wanted him to and the memory of their laughter and dark hair gleaming in the sun came to him without the usual pains of regret and loss. This was a fond memory, one he wanted to treasure and hold close until his last breath.
Epilogue
Afterword
Dear Reader,
I hope you’ve enjoyed reading about Dustin Keith’s origins and how he came to help start Darren’s little pack. More members will come to join them over the next two centuries, but as you can probably tell from the ending, this is the start of a beautiful friendship.
I knew this story would be both difficult and totally fun to write. For those who have read the Loup-Garou Series, you know how these difficulties and tragedies shape Dustin’s character overtime. But to actually write out this progression and coming of age for my Irishman was more rewarding than I ever imagined. Don’t think I take pleasure in killing these characters, though. I shed too many tears for Cassandra, Eleanor, and Lucy. To this day, I’ve received so many comments and praise that Dustin is the favorite of Darren’s pack, so I dearly hope I’ve done his backstory justice.
If you did enjoy this story, please take a moment to leave a review on Goodreads and let me know what you think. The next installment of The Legacy Series is coming soon, but in the meantime, feel free to follow me on my social media for updates and sneak peeks into my works-in-progress!
Until next time, happy reading!
- Sheritta Bitikofer
About the Author
Sheritta Bitikofer is an author of eclectic tastes. When she's not writing her next paranormal or urban fantasy novel, she can be found volunteering at her local animal shelter, shooting archery at a medieval reenactment event, doing Zumba, watching a historical documentary, or having coffee with her husband at their favorite café. A wife and fur-mama to two rescue dogs, she makes time to write engaging and moving stories about shifters, vampires, and magic that enthrall readers from cover to cover.
Follow her for upcoming novel releases
www.moonstruckwriting.wordpress.com
Also by Sheritta Bitikofer
The Loup-Garou Series
The Enigma
Becoming the Enigma
Beast Within
Precedents
The Legacies Series (A Novella Series)
Companion to The Loup-Garou Series
The Legend
The Guide
The Frenchman
The Prophecy
The Pirate
The Native
The Irishman
The Decimus Trilogy
The Beast of Verona
Amber Ashes
Saving the Beast
Standalones
Escape
Clouds
Passions
Silver Screen
By The Book
Beauty and the Blaze
The Irishman (A Legacy Novella) (The Legacy Series Book 7) Page 16
