by Mac Flynn
"Speak up, Lord Greenwood!" one of the spectators pleaded.
The old man straightened and looked over the crowd. "She has been chosen to join my house."
A stunned silence swept over the audience. The young man in the plain chair jumped to his feet. The woman, too, stood, and moved to stand beside him. She grasped his arm and quelled some of the anger in his face.
Lord Greenwood raised his hands above his head and smiled. "She has been chosen for my house, and as I am too old then the duty must fall to my only son-"
"I object!" the young man argued. His eyes swept over the room. "My blood wasn't placed in the bowl, you all saw that. There has to be some sort of sorcery at work here."
The old man whipped his head to him. "Whatever was done, the Choosing has chosen you a mate."
"I refuse her, and your stupid tradition," the young man growled.
Lord Greenwood stood to his full, tall height and his hands balled into fists at his sides. "You will do as tradition demands!"
The woman beside the young man released him and clapped her hands. "That is enough. Take the young woman to spare quarters and the matter will be settled later. For now we must get these other girls through the ceremony before they catch their death of cold in those filthy clothes."
The old man frowned, but gave a nod to someone behind me. I didn't have the strength to fight when two men grabbed my arms and dragged me towards the door.
"Treat her with more respect. She is one of us now," the woman commanded them.
The men bowed their heads. "Yes, My Lady," one of them replied.
One of the men scooped me into his arms and the other held open the door for us. We strode into the long passage and turned to the right. My hazy mind couldn't follow where we walked, but I did notice when the rock walls were replaced with ones made of white sheet rock. The floor, too, changed to hardwood, and the torches became light bulbs covered in clear white glass. The doors were still thick wooden portals, but they were now stained a ruddy red color.
The men reached one of the many doors and carried me inside. The room was furnished with a four-poster bed, dresser, and a door to one side where lay the bathroom. They set me on the bed and left me.
It was several minutes before I could gather my strength enough to sit up. My head spun and my arm ached, but the fire inside me was extinguished. I grabbed my arm and looked at the burned spot. There, etched into my skin by some invisible, heated scalpel, was a small emblem of a moon. The details were so exquisite that I could see the rabbit with the ball of rice. I brushed my hand over the spot and winced when my fingers stung my flesh with heat.
I dropped my arm and looked around at my new prison. The comfort didn't impress me. I focused all my thoughts on two things: escape from the room and helping the others. I didn't know if I could get them out of this strange maze of modernity and medieval-ism, but I had to try.
I slipped my noisy shoes off, slid off the bed and stumbled to the door. I'd only covered half the distance when the door swung open. One of the guards stood in the doorway.
"Get back on the bed," he growled.
"Make me," I snapped.
He stalked towards me, but I surprised him with a shoe attack. They both hit him square in the forehead and was enough distraction for me to dodge around him and through the open door. I raced down the hall with the guard in hot pursuit. The wood floors were well-shined which gave me an advantage. His feet pounded along the boards, but mine slid.
The area in which I found myself was a honeycomb of hallways. The passage was intersected at intervals by perpendicular halls, and those were connected to more halls. That meant a lot of corners. I grabbed the wall of one of the corners and slid into the new passage. The man wasn't so sharp on the corners, and he slammed into the walls more than once.
"Stop!" he shouted.
As if. I raced down the new hall only long enough to catch the next corner which lay thirty yards down the passage. Then I rinsed and repeated. Unfortunately, all my efforts didn't give me a foot more distance between us, and the guard actually started to gain on me. I needed a place to hide. There were the rooms, but I couldn't get the door open and closed fast enough to hide where I'd gone.
There were tall alcoves with statues and busts on pedestals inside them. Though I wasn't small, I wasn't so large that I couldn't squeeze behind one of the larger statues. I held my breath, and a moment later the guard swept past me and down the hall. He stopped at the next intersection and whipped his head left and right. The guard lifted his head and sniffed the air. He whipped his head around and his eyes stared directly at where I stood.
I cringed behind the statues as he marched back to me and stood before the alcove. "Come out. I know you're there. I can smell you," he ordered me.
"Then smell this," I snapped. I pushed hard against the back of the statue. It tipped forward and the guard put both his hands on the statue to keep it from toppling on him.
I raced around the statue and retraced my steps. At the first corner I whipped around and collided into a soft chest. I flailed and pushed against my new captor, but a pair of delicate hands grabbed my shoulders and held me still.
"I won't hurt you," a woman's voice spoke to me.
I paused in my struggles and looked up into the smiling face of the strange woman from the banquet room. There wasn't enough time to ascertain her sincerity before the sounds of the guard's boots rushed up behind me. He skidded to a stop and I glanced over my shoulder in time to see his eyes widen. The guard bowed at the waist.
"My Lady Greenwood," he murmured.
"It's all right, I will take her," the lady told him.
He raised his head and frowned. "But-"
"You may return to the banquet hall with an easy mind. I will accept any responsibility for what trouble she might cause," the lady promised.
The man pursed his lips, but gave a nod. "As you wish, My Lady." He strode past us and soon disappeared around one of the myriad of corners.
The woman returned her attention to me and released my arms. I jumped back and glared at her. "I'm not falling for any of your tricks. You're just the rest of the monsters wanting to keep us here," I growled at her.
Her smile widened. "Do I look like a monster?"
I had to admit she didn't. Her blue eyes were soft and full of gentleness, and there was a teasing quality in her smile that made me want to smile in return. She had her long, pale hands clasped in front of her and was patient as I studied her.
I leaned back and frowned. "I don't know, do you?"
"No more than you," she replied.
I wrinkled my nose. "I'm not a monster."
She tilted her head to one side and her eyes studied my face. "Are you so sure?"
I didn't understand her words, but my heart skipped a couple of beats. I wasn't too familiar with werewolf folklore, but my thoughts lingered on the bowl of blood from which I'd been forced to drink. "What's that supposed to mean?" I questioned her.
The woman strode past me and stopped ten yards beyond where I stood. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled at me. "Come with me and I will tell you anything you wish to know."
I took a step away from her. "How do I know this isn't a trap to get me back into a room?"
"Would I save you from that guard only to lock you away myself?" she pointed out.
I narrowed my eyes. "I don't know, would you?"
The woman chuckled. "No, and I give you my word that this isn't a trap."
"And after we talk, then what?" I asked her.
She half-turned from me and her smile faltered. Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "Then you will decide your future."
Part of me told me to run away from this strange, beautiful woman, but a larger part insisted I could trust her. I walked up to her and looked her in the eyes. "All right, I'll come, but no funny business."
Her full smile returned and she bowed her head. "Then follow me."
CHAPTER 5
Lady Gre
enwood led me through the maze of halls and to another winding stone staircase that looked out of place in the modern portion of this strange, huge building. We walked down the stairs twenty feet to the first lower level, though the steps continued deeper the bowels of the hill. We stepped out into a new hallway, and I sidled up beside her.
"Mind telling me exactly what this place is?" I questioned her.
She shook her head. "Not at all. This is a part of the Old Den. The part we just left, where you were taken, is a part of the New Den."
"'Den?' Like a wolf den?" I asked her.
The corners of her lips twitched. "Yes, precisely that." She turned slightly towards me and her eyes looked me over. "You didn't believe my husband when he told you we were werewolves, did you?"
I snorted. "Why should I believe anybody who tells me that?"
"Because it's true," she replied.
I raised an eyebrow and gave a little more room between us. "So you're telling me he wasn't lying?"
"Correct."
"Uh-huh. And what's a bunch of werewolves doing in a-" I waved my hand at the walls "-place like this?"
"Surviving."
I didn't have time to ask her for an elaboration before we rounded a corner and found ourselves beneath an arch. Before us was a large, semi-wild garden. Thick, wild vines climbed the stone walls that stood on either side of us, and their long trains blanketed the ground above their roots. A stone path lay among wild ferns and branched out in two directions in front of a central fountain. The fountain was two-tiered, with the larger pool on the bottom. Water ran over the top bowl and gently splashed into its lower brethren. Lilly-pads floated atop the water, and there was a perfection reflection of the sky in the clear pool. Atop the fountain was a statue of a seated wolf. Its head was tilted back and it appeared to howl at the moon.
The stone paths wrapped around the fountain and reunited on the other side. The single trail wound its way through a small forest of willow and oak trees until it disappeared around a bend. Stone benches and small bushes lined the path, and I saw there were purple lilacs like those that adorned Lady Greenwood's head.
Moonlight streamed down from the clear sky and wrapped us in its cold embrace. I cringed when the fire in my right arm was reignited where lay the new tattoo. I clutched the strange image and turned away from the light. The pain subsided.
The woman stepped out into the garden and turned to me. Her blond hair turned to silver beneath the moonlight, and she appeared to glow with an unearthly light. She held out a hand and smiled at me. "Don't fight it."
"Fight what?" I returned.
"Your new nature," she told me.
"New nature? What the hell are you talking about?" I growled.
"You're a werewolf now, like the rest of us," she revealed.
I scowled at her and stepped back into the darkness of the hall. "You're crazy if you think I'm going to believe that bullshit," I spat back.
She took a step towards me with her hand still held out to me. "Please. Trust me."
"You've taken me for a long enough walk. I want answers. Now," I demanded.
Lady Greenwood dropped her hand, but her smile never faltered. "I see. You will take that path. That's just as well."
"The only path I'm taking is the one out of here," I bit back. I glanced down both ends of the hall, but didn't see another exit. "Just as soon as you tell me where it is."
"That is a question I won't answer," she replied.
I rolled my eyes. "Fine, then tell me where this 'Den' is."
"It is on Wolf Island."
"Of course it is. Where's Wolf Island?"
"If you seek escape, the nearest human settlement is a hundred miles off through thick woods and rough roads," she warned me.
I frowned. "That's for me to decide. Where were all the other girls taken?"
"Each was given a husband who best suited them and they were taken to his house," she explained.
Damn it. We were separated. "Where are these houses? On the island?" I guessed.
She nodded. "Yes, and on other islands on the lake. Our pack is quite large."
I waved off the last bit of info. "All I want to know is how to make it a dozen people less. Now, how do I get to one of the houses? The one with the youngest girl?" Lillian would be my first rescue.
Lady Greenwood closed her eyes and shook her head. "I won't help you to separate them from their husbands."
I stepped back so I stood completely in the hallway. "Then I guess I'll have to do it on my own."
I turned and ran to the left where we'd come. My nose collided into the firm chest of someone who was a head taller than me. I fell back onto my rear and looked up into the frowning face of the young man from the banquet hall; Lady Greenwood's son, and my husband.
He gave me a derisive look and turned to his mother. His voice was firm and clear, and there was a tense edge to it. "What are you doing here?" he questioned her.
The depths of her eyes showed amusement. "Merely showing your betrothed her new home," she told him.
One corner of his lips curled up in a sneer. "I have no betrothed."
Lady Greenwood nodded at me. "She begs to differ."
I struggled to my feet and stumbled away from him. "No, she doesn't," I retorted.
Lady Greenwood ignored me and returned her attention to her son. She stepped up to him and set a hand on his shoulder. Her voice was a ghost of a whisper as she gazed into his stern face. "Whatever put the idea into your father's head, don't blame your mate for his actions."
He scowled and shrugged off her hand. "He has attached a human female to me against both our wills, and yet you agree with this?"
She smiled and shook her head. "You know me better than that, my son."
"Then you agree with his decision to shackle me to a worthless human?" he growled.
For the first time I saw a look of anger pass over the lady's face. She stepped back and clasped her hands in front of her. "You forget that I, too, was once a human female, or does your mother repulse you so much?"
The man's face fell and he bowed his head to her. "I'm sorry. I forgot myself."
She nodded to me. "Then at least remember your mate. She stands there in those filthy clothes while you complain about her past when her future is so cloudy to her. Teach her, train her, and, perhaps, learn to love her." Lady Greenwood turned and swept down the stone path.
The young man watched her leave until she was out of sight. He sighed and hung his head. Now was my chance. I tiptoed backwards. My path led me along an unknown hall, but it led me away from him.
"You are headed the wrong way," the man spoke up. He hadn't so much as flickered his eyes at me, but he did now. "Follow me." He turned his back to me and strode down the hall.
I made a break for it in the opposite direction. My bare feet pounded the rock floor worn smooth by countless years of wear. I pumped my arms and kicked my legs forward. My eyes zoomed in on the nearest corner. If I could just reach that.
A wind blew past me and I rammed into something hard. Again I fell to the ground, and again when I looked up there stood my new tormentor, the young Greenwood.
I glared up at him. "How'd you do that?" I questioned him.
"Follow me and I will tell you," he replied.
I snorted. "You sound like your mom."
His reply was to lean down and grab the front of my shirt. He pulled me to my feet, spun me around and pushed me down the hall. "The room is this way, now move it."
I glared at him over my shoulder. "How'd I get stuck with you?" I growled.
"My sentiments are the same," he quipped.
CHAPTER 6
I led the way up the stairs to the floor above us and meant to get off on the first landing, but the young man grabbed my arm and yanked me up the stairs. "We go higher," he ordered me.
I tried to wrench my arm from his hold, but it was like a vice grip. "Are you always this bossy to kidnapped girls, or is this your first time?" I snapped.
<
br /> "First time," he quipped as he pulled me up the stairs.
There was another twenty-foot flight and the stairs stopped at the next landing. He led me by the arm down the hall and I glimpsed the modern portion of the building. Unfortunately, he turned us onto a side hallway and led us deep into the strange, hive-like building. This floor had more windows and a cool breeze blew through the drafty passages. I shivered and rubbed myself with my free arm.
"Why aren't we going to the New Den?" I asked him.
"Because my suite resides in the old one," he told me.
"Not inclined to indoor plumbing?" I quipped.
"A soft life leads to a soft mind and body," he philosophized.
"And a lot of sore muscles. . ." I muttered as my bare feet complained of the hard rocks.
The man led me down the halls and to a long corridor that ran to the left and right. On the opposite wall from us was a long row of arches and a short wall. A stream of moonlight swept into the passage and illuminated the stone walls and floor. One could lean out and look at the view of the large lake and its still waters. The clear sky was reflected in those calm waters. The sight was an opposite image to the frantic thoughts abuzz in my mind. I had to escape and try to find the others, but I was at the mercy of this strong, handsome, and brutish man who cared nothing for me.
My brooding guide pulled me to the left down the hall. There were very few doors along the passage, and he stopped in front of the last one. He opened a pair of wooden doors and revealed to me a large, medieval suite. The space was a single, large room furnished with a tall four-poster bed and several rugs made of dead animals. A large fireplace stood off to the right, and before it were two large chairs and a small table. The floors and walls were stone like the hallways, and tapestries hung from large nails. Beside the tapestries was a large collection of weapons, both old and new. There were daggers, crossbows, bows, hatches, and even a club with nails embedded deep into its wood.
The only modern part of the room's structure was a skylight in the ceiling. It allowed natural light into the otherwise dark room, though a small pile of coals still lived in the fireplace. The man pulled me inside and released me so he could shut the doors with both hands. They slammed shut with an ominous clank.
