Taming Red Riding Hood (Fairy Tale Heat Book 8)

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Taming Red Riding Hood (Fairy Tale Heat Book 8) Page 2

by Lidiya Foxglove


  But what was I to the Rafferty family? I wasn’t one of ‘em, that was for sure. Too old to go to school, but too uneducated to be unleashed on society without lessons upon lessons on how to speak and move and read, something a kid like John could already do.

  I couldn’t tell if any of them liked me at all. I couldn’t tell what they thought. They were all so nice to me, but underneath it all, I couldn’t imagine they weren’t frustrated and embarrassed by my wild presence intruding on their world of china and silk.

  I tried not to speak, ashamed even of my accent, but they had no trouble talking, telling me all the things I would soon enjoy. Shopping for hats, the church concert, the oyster ball, to say nothing of the yuletide round of gaiety, as they put it. My eyes wandered to the windows, where I had a view outside of some rose bushes, a spot of green with some sort of game set up, and a wooden fence. Beyond that, I could see the roofs of another house next door and its out buildings.

  I couldn’t see any trees. I couldn’t see the forest. I felt people pressing in all around me, not just in this room, but in the entire town.

  There was nowhere I could be a wolf.

  Nowhere I could be myself.

  In the work house, they kept me in silver collar and cuffs, so I couldn’t change if I wanted to, but I felt the ache. During the time of year when I felt the mating urge, it tormented me so I couldn’t even sleep, but paced the floor until the other girls snapped at me.

  Could I hold back the beast inside me? Could I be the lady they wanted me to be?

  I can’t imagine fitting in to this life. No matter how many lessons they shove down my throat.

  Chapter Two

  Fersa

  “We must dress you up and show you the town!” Katherine pronounced, as the servants were clearing away the dishes.

  “I’m—I’m really quite tired,” I said.

  “Of course you are. But you don’t want to go straight to bed after you’ve eaten. It will give you a vaporous gut.”

  I had no idea what the hell that meant, except that I wasn’t getting any time alone.

  “Come, come,” she said. “I want to see what you think of the clothes I picked out for you.”

  “Katherine’s always wanted a daughter,” Father said.

  “Although I’m afraid I’m not old enough to be your mother,” Katherine said. “But I also wanted a sister. Aunts. Anything! My family is boys, boys, boys.”

  “Can I come see, Mama?” Francis asked.

  “It’s ladies’ business, darling,” Katherine said. “Best to keep it a mystery.”

  “You’ll appreciate that when you’re older,” Father said, offering his lap to Francis. “One minute your wife will be snoring in her nightgown and then in the morning she’ll disappear and transform into a creature of enchantment, and you’ll never get tired of it.”

  “You’re the one who snores,” Katherine protested, while Francis frowned.

  “I’ll take the fall, as a gentleman, but we know the truth,” he said.

  “I’m not gonna get married,” Francis said. “I’m going to have a ship and it’s going to be the biggest ship.”

  Katherine squawked out a laugh before covering her mouth. “Well, watch out, the ladies might like you all the more if you have the biggest ship.”

  I had to admit, my family had a good sense of humor and I sensed that they all genuinely liked each other. That was nice, in the sense that maybe they wouldn’t take it too seriously when I made mistakes. On the other hand, I was not funny myself. Have you ever met an animal with a sense of humor? Wolvenfolk just aren’t known for their wit.

  Nor for their play acting. Dogs might be loyal, but they still didn’t know how to pretend they were interested in striped damask. That was the situation I found myself in as Katherine led me up stairs to a dressing room, with a single gown hanging on the outer door of a wardrobe, and undergarments strewn on a plush chair nearby.

  “Ellara said you had black hair and golden-brown eyes,” Katherine said. “And you do—how striking! I thought blue might be a good color on you. I think I’m right.” She took the dress and held it against me. “Oh, Fersa, the boys won’t be able to take their eyes off you. More reasons to keep you shut up with your tutor a bit longer, eh? We must get to know you before you’re snapped up! I can’t wait for you to meet Patrick Rafferty. If I was a bit younger…”

  “Er—who’s he? An uncle?” I asked, completely flustered by her tone.

  “A very distant cousin,” she said, grinning. “There are, as they say, plenty of fish in the sea. Still, no one would complain if you stayed in the family. The Raffertys are one of the founding families of this town, and you can hardly throw a rock without hitting one.”

  She put her hands to her waist and glanced around like she’d forgotten what she was doing. “Oh, yes. Maybe you want to change into these fresh undergarments here, on your own, and I can help you tie your stays when you’re ready. Have you ever worn stays before? You slouch a bit.”

  “No.”

  “Well, you’ll get used to them soon enough.”

  Would I?

  If anything was going to give me the bloody ‘vaporous gut’ it was these clothes. I traded my linen undergarment for a fresh one, and she laced the stays tight around me. They forced my body into an unnatural shape, the boning drawing my waist into an unyielding point at the bodice, and pushing my breasts upward. Beneath my petticoat she tied a little cage-like contraption made of fabric and wood that would hold my skirt out at the back and especially around the hips. The fabric of the dress was thick and heavy, settling around the undergarments. Over the dress I wore a short jacket with a jaunty little skirt at the back and tight sleeves with broad cuffs that she said was the latest fashion. “It will be cold outside,” she commented. “This goes over your bodice.” She held up a sheer bit of fabric and showed me how to criss-cross it over my breasts and pin it inside the bodice. “You might still want your cloak. Now, let me put your hair up.”

  She pinned my hair up into a coil at the back of my head and secured one of the jaunty little hats over it. A large blue plume fell forward into the edge of my line of sight.

  “My, my,” she said, stepping back to admire me. “You won’t even need to open your mouth. You’re a lovely, lovely girl and the men will go mad for you at the dances.”

  “What if I want to open my mouth?”

  She laughed. “At your own risk, my dear. Especially with those sharp teeth of yours.”

  “This getup doesn’t feel very sturdy.” I gingerly ran my fingers along the hat and hairstyle, although my sleeves were strained to the limit reaching up that high. Between the sway of the caged contraption at my hips, the careful construct that my head had become, and how tight everything else was, I felt sure something was going to topple or snap.

  “You’re a lady now,” she said. “You’re not supposed to feel sturdy! You’re supposed to beguile gentlemen with your delicacy. Nevertheless, it’s somewhat of an illusion. It’s all tougher than you expect.”

  “I’m—“ I swallowed the words back. I’m a wolf, I wanted to say. What the hell have you done to me?

  Katherine drew me toward the mirror at her bureau and looked at me, nervous, expectant, and hopeful, her frail hands clasped.

  I looked at myself and was a little startled at the sight. Who was this girl? She was beautiful. I couldn’t even connect her to myself. I patted my cheek like I was making sure this wasn’t a dream. This girl belonged in the human world. This girl could have a human family…a husband…

  I didn’t know what to think.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said, in barely more than a whisper.

  I don’t think even Ellara would have recognized me now. She told me not to curse or cartwheel; well, no worries about that. I would never cartwheel again in this getup.

  Downstairs, Katherine showed me off to my father and the boys, and I could see relief in Father’s eyes. “Fersa! I don’t believe it! I always told your mo
ther she’d clean up nicely. I wish she could see you now.” Now, you truly look like one of us. Yes, that’s much better. I swallowed back the lump in my throat, accepting the praise.

  Coats and cloaks were gathered up for a stroll through town. They left the boys behind with their nurse. It was quite brisk out, and I was glad for my cloak because it covered some of my dress. I was so conscious of all the eyes on me: the new stranger. Father and Katherine introduced me to everyone we passed, neighbors and friends, young men who tipped their hats to me. I wasn’t used to attention like this either.

  Human. I’m half human. This is my father. I belong here as much as I belonged in the pack.

  I kept telling myself that, but it was hard to believe. Everything here was so tame. Even their names. Miss Gray, Miss Woodson, Mr. Blair, Mr. Powers, each one like the next, so clean and polite. I knew I could never be myself. Fersa the Wolf would have to be buried so deep that she might as well be dead.

  You’re Fersa the Lady now, like it or not. But you’re not trapped in the walls of the work house. You’re taken care of, maybe even spoiled as days go by.

  In a strange way, though, this wasn’t the improvement I expected. The expectations were higher, and the attention already felt like too much. I tried to duck behind Katherine and Father whenever I could. As we walked, we ended up picking up a few extra Raffertys, some chattering old aunts and a middle-aged man smoking a pipe, Old Robert Rafferty. I would never remember all of their names!

  I had managed to hang at the back of the entire crowd of Raffertys as they talked to a neighbor, when a man emerged from a tavern and bumped into me.

  “Excuse you,” I hissed.

  “Well, maybe you shouldn’t block—” He paused, noticing the rest of the company, and his eyes softened. He swept off his hat. “I beg your pardon. You must be Douglas’s girl.” The rest of the family was moving down the sidewalk without me, and he said, “Don’t get yourself lost now, eh, cousin?”

  “Are you Patrick, then?” I asked, trying to sound a little miffed, but…lord, Katherine was right. Patrick Rafferty was a fine specimen of a man. He didn’t look like a pampered gentleman. He was broad and strong, his shoulders straining his jacket, and he smelled like the woods, in a human sort of way.

  “I never get lost,” I said, which was true. Even now, I was sure I could’ve found my way back through the forest to my clan’s territory.

  “Well, then, your father might lose you.” He put a hand on my back, and curse me, but his touch did feel nice. “Of course, you look like you might get lost on purpose, in which case it’s not getting lost at all, is it?”

  “Why would I want to get lost?” I had not really meant to get into a conversation with him, but here it was.

  “You must have grown up out there,” he said, gesturing into the distance. In the direction of the forest, although I couldn’t see it from here—just buildings. “I’m sure you miss it.”

  “Has my father been talking about me?” I asked, tensing.

  “He’s been thrilled to have you with the family. Your father has a heart big enough to allow for just about anyone. Anyway, I would never have guessed you were wolfkin if I hadn’t heard the story.”

  “Ah.” Maybe I should take that as a compliment, but I couldn’t.

  He grinned. “We’re coming up on the candy shop and if you stick with me, maybe I’ll get you a welcome present.”

  “I don’t need it,” I said. “I’m full.”

  “I think you miss the point, Miss Fersa. Candy isn’t meant to fill you up, now is it?”

  My insides squirmed with a strange mixture of discomfort and desire. My moon cycles had barely begun when I lost my clan and was locked up in the work house. What would it feel like, to have his skin against mine, his strong body pinning mine down, our mouths mingling? How would I feel, to be with a human who could not change into anything, but was trapped in his skin forever? Would I feel more human too? Would I belong here?

  My stepmother noticed us. “Ah, there’s Patrick! What luck, I was just speaking of you. But now I’ve lost out on the fun of introducing the two of you.”

  “Sounds as if the luck is all mine,” Patrick said. “It was nice to spend one shining moment with my cousin before all of the Rafferty clan had their opinion.”

  Now they were all laughing again, and once again, I hardly knew what to say. A poster caught my eye, tacked to a wooden building ahead. It had a picture of a white wolf on it.

  “What is that?” I asked Patrick.

  He read it to me:

  WANTED ALIVE

  By order of King Brennus

  Adult white wolf aged 30 or so years…

  “Fifty gold,” I said aloud in my shock as he read. For one wolf?

  “Have you seen him?” Patrick asked.

  “Of course not! Not like all wolfkin know each other. I en’t seen another of my folk in…a long time.” I bit my lip. “And white wolves are the rarest.”

  “‘Haven’t or ‘have not’, but never ‘en’t’,” Katherine said gently, brushing my arm. “Try to mind your dialect, dearest. I don’t want you to be teased.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.” I bit both my lips now, briefly, until the pain seemed to overwhelm my shame.

  “No need to apologize. This is what Mr. Arrowen will help you with.” She smiled again and shrugged at the poster. “I guess you haven’t heard, then? Earlier in the autumn, Princess Bethany, King Brennus’ new bride, was kidnapped by two of the wolvenfolk. Rogues from their tribe. They say she was unharmed, but think what could have happened!”

  “I don’t think some’ll be convinced until that babe of hers is born without fur,” one of the gossipy aunts interjected.

  “You think a wolf would rape the princess? That sounds more like a story to stoke fear than anything,” I said, bristling now for a different reason.

  All the women looked at me in shock.

  “Oh, my, we don’t talk about things so openly,” Katherine said.

  “She was kidnapped, to be sure,” the aunt said, shaking a finger at me. “It might be rare, but it does happen, and all the more reason the other Longtooth brother should be brought to justice.”

  “I heard the very forest itself demanded his head. He’s been hunting the blue stags,” Patrick said.

  My father met my eyes. He looked uncomfortable. Then he said, “I would rather we didn’t speak of these things around my daughter.”

  “We didn’t mean—,” Katherine started. “I mean, Fersa is just a girl, and half human. This man is a criminal.”

  “It’s not an appropriate topic of conversation. Perhaps this wolf has truly done wrong, but we don’t need to dwell on it ourselves, without knowing for sure. Gossip is not always correct.”

  I guessed he was thinking of Mother, and how the elves had slaughtered the clan. When elves or humans killed wolvenfolk, there was always some reason given that a wolf had killed or raped and the pack was a danger to civilized people. No trial was given. Wolvenfolk did not receive the benefit of the law. I gave him a wary smile of gratitude before he looked away.

  Chapter Three

  Fersa

  When I slept, I dreamed of becoming a wolf, which was nothing new. In the work house, I always ran through the forests in my dreams—and often, I was running from something. Waking up in a cold sweat was common. But here, without my silver collar and cuffs, I woke up in my wolf form, with a wolf’s senses. I felt the animal strength in my limbs, so different from my fragile human femininity. I was trapped in clothing and I growled with confusion. Where was I? My keen nose could trace the paths of the servants who tended to my room and I started to remember…

  “Mercy!”

  I heard a scream behind me and I violently shifted back, in such a panic that it felt a little like being born, forced from a place where I was warm and strong, into a cold and naked world.

  My nightgown now hung around me with rips in it, and somehow the collar was shoved down my shoulders. I turned over, di
soriented, and saw the maid cowering by the fire, her face pale, her chest heaving with panicked breaths.

  “Ye’s a wolf, missy,” she said. Her accent was thick, much thicker than my own lapses into the dialect of my clan.

  I gathered my wits, straightening out my nightgown, and scrambled out of bed toward her. She cowered even lower. “Oh, no, miss, please say somethin’ so I knows ye’s got your wits!”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I whispered. “Look—I have my wits. I’m human. I won’t hurt you.” I spread my hands toward her. “Please. If you don’t tell anyone about this I’ll give you—chocolates.” I had the candies Patrick had insisted on buying me yesterday. “I was having a dream, that’s all. Now that I’m awake, it’s all back to normal. Please—don’t tell anyone.”

  She finally relaxed. “Ah…a dream. I see. Yes’m…I won’t tell.”

  I handed her the chocolates. She shoved them in her apron pocket.

  Someone knocked on the door. “Fersa?” Katherine called. “Are you all right in there?”

  “It was me, ma’am,” the maid said. “I seen a mouse.”

  “I chased it off,” I called. “All’s well.”

  “I see. That gave me a scare!” Katherine called. “Well, I’m going to ask the kitchen to make up some hot chocolate. It’s cold this morning. You can have some too, Ina.”

  “Thank you very much, ma’am!” The maid glanced at me nervously as Katherine’s footsteps disappeared. “But when ye turn wolf, d’ye have your wits about ye then?”

  “I’m not turning into a wolf again,” I said.

  “But, supposing if ye did?”

  “I’ve always got my wits.”

  In fact, I thought it was likely I would turn into a wolf again, in my sleep at the least. I had no control over it. I flexed my hands. They were stiff with cold but I hardly noticed. It had felt so good to wake up as a wolf, to feel the potential of strength and speed in my body and the way my senses came alive. I hadn’t been able to change for those three years. Those years of my early womanhood were when wolvenfolk really learned to control their transformations. I had lost those years.

 

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