by Cara Wylde
She flung her feet over the edge of the bed and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Emil, what’s wrong? Where are you going?”
“I’m sorry… you wouldn’t understand.” Completely dressed, he finally turned towards her. He took a deep breath. “I have to get some fresh air.”
“I’m coming with you.” She made to stand up and look for her own clothes.
He ran his hand through his dark blond hair. “No, Becca… please. I won’t be long. Just wait for me here.” He needed to run. He needed to run and hunt right now, or his wolf would tear him apart.
“What are you talking about? I want to come with you, so I’m coming.” She pulled up her panties and flinched when she felt his seed make its way down her legs. On second thought, this wasn’t such a clever idea.
Her hesitation was what gave Emil the chance to convince her. He grabbed her shoulders and looked straight into her eyes.
“Rebecca, do you trust me?”
She got lost in his dark green eyes. Something weird and wild flickered in them, and her breath hitched. Suddenly, she felt like she couldn’t fight this man. She had no idea how she had been able to dominate him just a few minutes earlier.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I trust you.”
“Then wait for me here. I won’t be long.”
He kissed her gently before turning around and leaving the room.
Becca stood there for long minutes, her mind trying to wrap around everything that had happened. It had been the best sex she had had in years, but she knew he had been holding back. Why? She eventually took a quick shower and snuggled in his bed. She wanted to wait for him, but she soon fell into a deep sleep. She moaned and turned on her other side when a wolf howled somewhere far in the woods. Her eyes moved rapidly under her closed lids when she started dreaming of a huge, brown wolf, an animal like she had never seen before. In her dream, she wasn’t afraid.
CHAPTER FOUR
When she reached the top of the hill, Rebecca stopped for a moment to catch her breath. It was a little over 10 AM and the sun was making its way to the middle of the blue, perfect sky, announcing a scorching day. Her heartbeat came back to normal, so she headed towards her destination: the Old School. Since Emil was busy with his attorney until lunch, she figured she could visit the museum by herself.
She paid the entry tax and stepped over the threshold of the ancient building. She inhaled the smell of old books and sighed in pleasure. She hadn’t expected to enjoy being alone when she had gotten used to having Emil by her side at all times, but in all fairness, after their night of passion, she felt like she needed some space. She couldn’t explain why, but there had been something about Emil that had made her want to put some distance between them at least for now, until she figured out what was wrong.
“I’m being silly,” she thought. “There’s nothing wrong. It’s just my retarded superstition that if something feels too good then it has to end abruptly.”
There were already a lot of tourists visiting the museum, which was, in fact, nothing more than a small classroom filled with wooden desks. In front of the classroom, there was a huge map of Romania, and on the left wall, a couple of tables filled with various items. That seemed to be the most interesting part of the tiny museum, but Becca decided to be patient and study her surroundings carefully. Since there were too many people at the front of the classroom, she sat at one of the desks and skimmed through the old student’s course book displayed there. It was in German, so there was no way she could read it, but the yellowed pages had a charm of their own. As she waited for the classroom to clear a bit, she spaced out again. Her thoughts went back to the night before, to the low growls that had made Emil’s chest tremble underneath her fingers, to the strange tension in his muscles as he was pleasuring her, to the obvious way in which he had held back even when she had begged him to be rougher. She sighed and shook her head.
“This is stupid. There’s nothing wrong with him. With us.”
Then, what about his desperate need to get some fresh air afterwards? What about her dream? It had been so vivid… as if she had been in that dark forest with the huge, brown wolf, and had actually touched his soft fur. She felt the tips of her fingers tingle at the thought, and she squeezed her hands into fists on top of the open student’s book. She looked up and noticed there were only three tourists left in the classroom, so she stood up and went to study the map. She got bored quickly. She took out her camera and turned to the left wall to snap some pictures of the displayed items.
As she got closer, she saw the wall above the small exhibition were covered in maps of the sky and intricate charts which showed the stars, constellations, and zodiac signs. There were also pictures of strange animals and mythical beasts and on the first table there were a couple of particularly interesting items: the long, delicate skeleton of a snake, a half dissected frog, and a few lizards and fish in tall formalin tubes. A shiver ran up Becca’s spine, and she immediately moved to the next table.
“Well, this is better,” she whispered. She wondered if she was allowed to leaf through the thick book placed right in the middle of the table. It was huge and filled with colorful pictures of medieval beasts.
“This is the central piece of our humble museum,” came a voice from behind her.
Rebecca’s heart jumped and she turned to see if the man had spoken to her. Indeed, he had.
“I startled you, I’m sorry…”
“Oh, not at all. I was spacing out again.”
She immediately decided she liked the old man. He had short white hair, his wrinkled face was perfectly shaved, and he was wearing an old, but clean suit.
“I’m the museum curator. Seeing a pretty lady such as yourself so interested in our history and literature… I couldn’t resist. I’m here to tell you a couple of things about our Bestiary, if you don’t mind an old man boring you with his old stories.” He chuckled, revealing a set of clean fake teeth.
“Oh, that would be lovely!” The excitement in Becca’s voice made his smile grow. “I was just wondering if tourists are allowed to look through this beautiful… Bestiary you called it?”
“Yes, ma’am. Tourists are not allowed to touch the displayed items, but since I’m here, I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt anyone if you took the liberty to study it a bit. And yes, it is a Bestiary. The only one we have in Segesvar.”
“It’s in German,” she noticed while turning a couple of pages, careful not to touch the edges more than she needed to.
“It’s not as old as the original Medieval Bestiaries, which were generally written in Latin. In fact, this one is more of a compilation, the result of a life of research. It was written and illustrated by Johannes Kelpius, one of our most notable natives. He spent little time in Segesvar. In fact, he was born and raised here, and went to this very school until he went to study in Germany. He never looked back.” The old man chuckled.
“These illustrations are incredible! Do you mind if I take a couple of photos?”
“By all means, go ahead.”
Rebecca turned more pages and stopped to take photos of the ones she found really interesting.
“But most of these animals are… real.” She gave the curator an embarrassed smile. “I don’t know much about these types of books, but weren’t they supposed to depict mythical creatures?”
“Oh, but they are pretty mythical.”
Becca turned another page and cocked an eyebrow at the colorful illustration of a griffin. “I suppose you don’t see many griffins these days…” She turned another page and had an “aha” moment when her eyes fell on a detailed picture of a gray wolf. “What about this one? It’s clearly, a wolf.”
The old man looked over her shoulder and smiled knowingly. “If I may, that’s not a wolf.” His bony finger followed the first line of the German text. “This is very old German, and there are words I don’t understand myself, but I do know the text says it’s a werewolf.”
“How about this
one?” She turned a page and showed him a brown bear.
“Werebear, my lady.”
She thought for a second, trying to find a way to challenge the old man’s theory. “So, what you’re saying is that Johannes Kelpius, just as all the ones before him, came across real, absolutely normal animals, and documented them as shape-shifters.”
“No, I never said that. They were perfectly capable of telling the difference between, say, wolves and wolf-shifters. Or bears and bear-shifters. The wolves you know are no bigger than dogs, while werewolves can grow to the size of a pony. Bear-shifters are always two times bigger than normal bears, and this applies to all shifters.”
Becca laughed, but the smile died on her lips when she realized the curator was being serious. “But these are just myths, right? Just like dragons, or… or… Griffins. Phoenixes. Centaurs.”
The old man smiled brightly, and Becca was sure she saw a flicker of indulgence in his eyes.
“None of them are myths. They are all shape-shifters. Johannes Kelpius, and many alchemists, astrologers, and men of science before him dedicated their lives to the study of supernatural beings. We know for a fact that Kelpius himself spent two years with a pack of werewolves so he would better understand their ways. Not all supernatural people are open towards us, simple humans, but shifters are generally more likely to trust someone who proves they mean no harm. For instance, vampires stay hidden and protect their secrecy with their eternal life. A good call, if you ask me. That’s why they barely suffered any losses through the ages, while shape-shifters were hunted and killed in cold blood. Even today, there is a guild of assassins that still follows the creed of their ancestors, which says they need to clear the world of supernatural people.”
Rebecca ran both her hands through her long, blonde hair and pulled at the knots in frustration. That story again! She inhaled and exhaled a couple of times, determined to calm down and use her logic to get to the bottom of these medieval beliefs which had no place in the modern world.
“All right. You said they knew how to make the difference between a normal wolf and a werewolf. That is, a wolf that could turn into a man or a woman, right?”
“Right.” The curator nodded vigorously.
“What if the animal they thought was a werewolf was simply a… a bigger wolf?”
The old man shook his head. “No, ma’am. Size wasn’t the only criterion they used. If you know what to look for, you can detect a shape-shifter even when he or she is in human form. There are a couple of traits which usually give their true nature away. In time, they learned how to control them and perfected the art of behaving like humans, but these small giveaways can still be observed when the shifter experiences powerful emotions, such as anger, pain, or… well… sexual arousal.”
Becca’s heart started beating faster and she swallowed heavily before asking her next question.
“And which are these… giveaways?”
“Let me see…” The curator started counting them on his fingers. “Low, deep growling sounds coming from inside their chest, eyes turning darker, incredible speed, unnatural strength… The overwhelming need to run away and release the beast when the pressure becomes too much to handle… Of course, a shape-shifter will never tell you about these feelings and urges, but they will immediately put distance between themselves and humans when they will feel they can’t contain the beast.”
By the time the curator finished his short lecture, Rebecca’s eyes had grown wide with disbelief. “It can’t be…”
“I’m sorry?”
“Nothing. Nothing.” She turned back to the page with the wolf and took a clear picture that showed the whole page, with the illustration and text. “Thank you. That was very useful information.”
“Oh, you’re welcome!” The old man bowed his head and let Becca see the other museum pieces.
Except… she didn’t have any patience for the rest of the museum. She thanked the old man again and went out into the bright summer day. She needed to have a serious talk with Emil Severin.
***
Rebecca ate her salad quickly then waited for Emil to finish his lunch. He was telling her about his meeting with his attorney and his assistant, who was in charge of finding a good buyer for the Weavers’ inn, tour company, and old house. If no one wanted to buy and invest in all three, then they would be forced to look for different clients. She had tuned him out minutes ago. It wasn’t that she didn’t care about his business, but she had much bigger issues to deal with right now. She drummed her fingers on the edge of the table as she waited for him to chew and swallow the last bites on his plate.
Emil sensed her agitation and called for the waiter to take their empty plates and bring them coffee.
“Okay, what’s up?” he asked. “You’ve been fidgeting since we got here.”
Rebecca took a deep breath and pulled her camera out of her bag.
“I visited the museum earlier.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t come with you…”
His apology was honest and Becca could see the regret in his green eyes. She smiled reassuringly and waved him off.
“It’s not that. The curator showed me around and told me about Johannes Kelpius and his work.”
“Fascinating man, don’t you think?” His expression brightened at the sound of the scientist’s name. “Kelpius, I mean, not the curator. Although, he’s a lovely old man himself. He used to teach History and Mythology at the new school.”
“Oh, he was adorable. He even let me leaf through the Medieval Bestiary and take as many pictures as I wanted. Here, let me show you my favorite ones.” She browsed through the dozens of photos she had already taken that day, though it was only 12 PM, and stopped on the one which showed the wolf.
“Really? This is one of your favorites?”
“Absolutely! I love wolves, didn’t you know?”
Emil leaned back in his chair and watched her carefully.
“I guess you forgot to mention it.”
“Hmm… maybe.” She looked straight into his eyes when she said the next words. “I had time to translate the text before lunch. It wasn’t easy, mind you. The curator did tell me it’s old German and pretty hard to understand today, but I think I got at least the general meaning of what Kelpius had to say about… werewolves.”
Emil choked on nothing and cleared his throat. Rebecca talking about wolf-shifters? Had he somehow made some sort of jump to a parallel universe?
“I thought you don’t believe in shape-shifters…”
She ignored his remark. “I didn’t find out much more than what the old man had already told me. Arte di Calimala was mentioned, as well as the myth of how shape-shifters were created. Now, that myth I found really interesting.”
Emil smiled. Of all the things she could have found out and come to believe about shape-shifters, their origin myth was the worst one. Not even shape-shifters believed in it anymore. It was too surreal. Almost as surreal as the idea of fated mates. However, since he met Rebecca, Emil had started to think of the fated mates myth more often than he had done in his whole life.
“Still, it wasn’t nearly as interesting as the author’s methods of detecting shape-shifters when they are in their human form.”
Emil’s whole body tensed, and Rebecca was perfectly aware of the sudden change. When he didn’t say anything, she switched the camera off, placed it on the table, and leaned forward as much as the table allowed her.
“Your story about shape-shifters and the Calimala Guild, your insistence that it isn’t just a story… I dismissed all the signs which told me there was something there, something my imagination would’ve never been able to come up with. Until last night.”
Emil bit the inside of his cheek. She knew. She wasn’t just suspicious. She knew.
“Kelpius says that of all the shape-shifters, werewolves are the most unpredictable because it takes them longer to learn how to contain their beast. Even when they do learn, it’s difficult for them to keep the a
nimal subdued when they experience powerful emotions. Anger, hate, love, lust…” She made a long pause, waiting for him to say something. To contradict her. To stop her before she made a fool of herself. He didn’t. “Last night you didn’t want to have sex with me the second time because… you needed to get some fresh air. Was that it, or was there something else?”
Rebecca watched Emil’s massive chest rise when he inhaled and fall slowly when he exhaled. She remembered the way his muscles had rumbled when his wolf had growled at her from underneath his skin. For a moment, she lost all train of thought. Emil’s low, calm voice brought her back to earth.
“Say it, Rebecca.”
Her chocolate eyes rose back to his face.
“You’re a werewolf.”
***
Emil didn’t wait for the sun to set. He couldn’t. The woman who had turned his world upside down was finally ready to accept the truth. Rebecca Gilbert, the modern, independent chartered accountant who didn’t believe in the supernatural, had just done her own research and told him with her own pretty, delicious mouth that he was a wolf-shifter. He had to show her. He had to show her now.
They drove outside the citadel and the old city and didn’t stop until they were far from civilization, in the heart of the Carpathian Mountains. He left the car on the side of the road, took her hand, and led her deep into the forest, where he threw his clothes off and turned into his wolf form right in front of her bewildered eyes.
Rebecca covered her mouth with both hands. She couldn’t take her eyes off the majestic creature. Indeed, the werewolf was tall and strong, as big as a pony. He reminded her of the wolves in the “Twilight” movies. She smiled remembering how back then she had thought it was ridiculous. The animal stepped closer to her, and her instinct was to back away, but then she remembered this was Emil. Her lover, the man who had held back his passion and desire for her the night before, afraid that his beast might take over. She took a deep breath and approached him carefully. When the wolf didn’t do anything, just kept staring at her with his huge, puppy eyes, Rebecca grew bolder and reached for his nose.
