My eyes closed, and with bated breath, I raked my fangs across the pulsating vein that lay just below his skin.
"Drink from me," he offered.
"I can't. I won't stop," I whispered.
"I wouldn't ask you to."
He brushed the strap of my dress off my shoulder, and then the other, allowing the material to fall in a heap around my ankles. His movements were sensual, and skilled, like he had done this before.
"Would you deem me just a part of your collection, or may I stand out…apart from the crowd, perched on your mantle as a trophy for all to see?" I whispered.
"Do you think so little of me to assume I would deem you as anything but?"
"Tell me I'll be your first. Lie, if you must."
"You are my first in everything," he exhaled, as he stepped forward, dipping me over the bed, his hand pressed down against my duvet cover, holding up our weight, while the other cradled me against his hard body.
I was safe, nestled in his chiseled arms, my desire for him, and his blood, growing by the minute.
"Drink from me, my darling Rose. Drink and make us one."
My restraint waned with the passing seconds, my eyes narrowed, laser focused on the throbbing flesh of his neck.
"Just a small sample. You won't miss a few drops will you?"
"No, I would say not," he replied, softly.
I closed my eyes, my head tilted toward the sky as my lips separated, exposing the sharp daggers I harbored in my mouth. Gently pushing them in, I punctured his flesh, releasing into the air the sweet fragrance that had enticed me on so many occasions.
The warmth coated my tongue, reanimating the parched cells of my throat, invigorating my whole world.
My lids fluttered open, and I could see the difference in my vision. The world seemed sharper, its colors more vibrant. The fears I felt only moments before, washed away like the ocean receding from the sand.
Slowly, he laid me on the bed, careful not to break our connection, as he rested his full weight on me, pressing our future between us like flowers in a book.
He pulled his neck away, blood still dripping from his wounds, as he turned to me, caressing my temple with his thumb. Our eyes locked, the reflection in his eyes revealing the new color of mine.
I gasped. "My eyes…they're gray," I said, touching my eyelids with my fingertips.
He smiled. "And your hair has streaks of gray as well," he said, lifting a few strands for me to see. "My wolf has marked you."
I couldn't help but smile. Something in my soul told me this was right. I had a new sense of myself, a new sense of him, and a new sense of our future together.
"Rosaline. We are one now… transcended."
His deep voice resonated with every life I had lived before this one. All awakened at once. All bursting forth, excited to share their knowledge of the world with me.
"Though we are born only once to this life…I have died a thousand mini deaths in search of this moment," he said, descending toward me.
How could I fathom conveying the next few hours to someone who has never felt the other half of their soul touch theirs? To explain to the woman who longs for a love that would pull her from the drudgery of life? A woman who would rather consume poison, than live another day in a life of travesty, of duty, to a man she feels no more for than a glass lying in her sink.
To that woman, I would say, run. Run through the woods and swim the rivers of the world in pursuit of this love. Comb the night sky for the twinkle that was meant for only you. For he is out there. Waiting for you to pluck him from his loneliness.
As for me, I no longer needed to hunt, for I had found my gravity. The moon to my tide, ebbing and flowing at his will, locked in a dance with no beginning and no end, destined to push as he pulled, our jostling ending with a burst and a quiver. I cannot be exact from whence each reaction came, but it didn't matter, the absolution that spilled from our intertwining was undeniable. Transcendence…took me away.
BROKEN PIECES
ROSALINE
I awoke to his scent lying next to me. The puncture wounds in his neck had all but gone. I caressed them, wondering if my bite had pained him at all. He stirred. His lids fluttering open like a butterfly in flight.
"Rosaline."
"Yes, my love," I replied, caressing his face.
"Tell me you won't marry."
I paused, reliving the night before, and the meeting with the Dàil's. "Don't ask me to choose between you and my parents."
He clutched on to my hand and laid it on the pillow next to my face. "It seems you already have."
From the hallway, I heard, "Rosaline!"
"It's my mother," I said, turning back to an empty bed.
He was gone; my window left slightly ajar, while the cool morning breeze wafted through it.
"Come in," I called when she knocked at my door, sitting up with the blanket covering my nakedness.
"Are you ready to…" My mother stepped in and immediately gasped. "Your eyes…your hair!"
She covered her gaping mouth.
I didn't have anything to say. What could I say?
"How could you?"
"How could I what?" I asked, wrapping the sheet around me as I slid out of bed, headed toward my closet.
She closed the door behind her, and whispered, "You mated with him."
"Is that a question or a statement?" I asked, rifling through my clothes.
"Rosaline Winthrop, you will speak to me with respect."
I slipped on a dress, and walked out of my closet. "I'm sorry, Mother."
She walked over to me and ran her fingers through the gray streaks in my hair, and then cupped her palms to my cheek, shifting my face back and forth, examining my eyes.
I turned away to look in the mirror. "Maybe we can dye it, and get some contacts?"
She smiled like a giddy school girl. The first time in my life I had seen her act out of character. "We shall be cohorts in the effort to hide your indiscretion."
"Mother!" I chuckled.
She yanked on my arm, tugging me back toward the bed, plopping us both down at the edge. "Tell me what it was like to transcend? Was it magical, like in all the stories I heard as a girl?"
"Why have I never heard these stories? The only ones you ever told were of horror, and the wretchedness of werewolves."
"We have gone over this, my dear. Please keep up. Transcendence…what is it like?" She urged.
I thought about it for a moment. I wanted to depict the state accurately, as I knew she would never get to experience it.
Tapping my chin as I thought, my eyes widened, as I turned to her. "Transcendence is like the crisp air after a hard rain, or the first ray of sunshine in the morning. It's the absence of fear, replaced by the knowledge of ten thousand lives that came before you. The strength to know you can be alone, coupled with the strength to say that you shouldn't be."
My mother's eyes glowed in awe of my description.
"I must admit my dear. I am quite jealous that I will never get to experience that."
"I know, Mother," I said sadly.
She wrapped her arms around me. "No, no, my darling. I love your father, and I love you even more. I would not trade my life for a hundred soul mates."
I looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
She smiled. "Okay, maybe one hundred and one."
We both chuckled. It was as honest a moment as we've ever had. I rubbed her arm, then laid her hand on her lap.
"Shall we?"
She stood. "I will call the hair dresser on the way."
"Do you think I should wear a hat?"
She nodded. "Maybe a pair of sunglasses too."
She hurried me out the door. "Let's go, my dear, we only have a few hours."
GIDEON
I walked through the door, to Sabine and my mother sitting at the table.
"What's going on?" I asked.
"Nothing. We were just waiting for you to get home to discuss Sabine's future wi
th this family."
I must admit I had forgotten about my anger toward her. After the night I had, I could think of nothing but Rosaline.
"Sabine, have you told us everything?" I asked, as I sat at the head of the table.
She nodded.
"And you are sure you know nothing of the death dealer that killed your parents?"
She shook her head.
"Has someone cut out your tongue since last I saw you?"
My mother glared at me.
"No, Gideon, I don't know anything else," Sabine finally spoke.
"From now on I expect honesty; otherwise, I will kill you if ever you put our pack in danger again."
She nodded. "I understand, Gideon."
"And no more of this love business."
"Of course," she said, looking down at her lap.
"Mother, I was with, Rosaline, last night and I saw a vision through her."
"A vision of what?"
"The death dealer that killed, Father."
My mother jolted from her seat, her chair sliding across the floor, hitting the wall behind her. "Who?"
"I believe it was Gregory McAllister. I saw a vision from Rosaline, a vision of a large claw mark running down the length of his back."
"What are we going to do?" My mother asked.
"First things first…we have to stop the wedding. Rosaline, refuses to put her family in danger, and I refuse to let her marry anyone else."
Sabine stood. "I will help. Anything you need."
I looked over to her. "It would mean setting your feelings aside, to help me win the heart of another. Is that something you are willing to do? It's something I would not ask of you."
She glanced over to my mother, who nodded at her, and smiled.
She turned back to me. "Know that I will try to feel happy for you, and I will take the pain of loss. Eventually, your happiness will bandage my wounds, and yes, I'll do this for the pack…I'll do this for you."
Leo walked in, late as always. "What's going on?"
"We are going to stop a wedding," my mother said.
"Finally! Some action around here." He smiled, patting me on the shoulder as he headed for the kitchen.
My mother turned to him. "Is that all you can think of…food?"
"I'm a growing wolf, and now I need to stock up for a fight!" He chuckled.
"We all do." I said, leaning over the table. "This is what we are going to do…"
ROSALINE
"They will see you right now," my mother said as she hung up the phone.
"Oh, thank goodness," I said, speeding down the street toward the hair salon.
"While you are there, I will run to the eyeglass store and pick up some cosmetic colored contacts.
"I just hope they have the same blue. It's not like my eye color was normal before."
"Fingers crossed, my darling."
Parking was hellacious, midmorning in downtown, but finally we found a spot not too far from either destination.
"I'll meet you at the hair salon after you pick up the contacts," I said, squinting from the overly bright sun.
"Alright," she said, as we sped off in separate directions.
I walked into the hair salon, which to me smelled like a candy factory. I held my breath, trying to breathe solely through my mouth, as my usual hair stylist, Cameron, waved me over.
Cameron was a beautiful black woman, who could highlight, cut, and curl your hair before you could even think to ask.
I took off my hat and plopped myself into her black leather adjustable chair, and opened my mouth.
But she quickly interjected with, "Oh no honey child…this simply will not do," she said, lifting my gray hairs in the air.
"I know. Can you fix it?"
"Can I fix it? Girl…can a one-legged unicorn jump over the moon?"
I paused to ponder her question.
She stood staring into the mirror at me, with her hand on her hip, waiting for my answer, which did not come.
She shook her head as she started to comb he slender fingers through my hair. "Of course it can," she sassed.
I smiled, still trying to breathe through my mouth. I could do nothing else but think of the blood pumping through her veins. She went to the back to mix up some dye, right as my mother walked in with the contacts.
"Here, try these," she said, handing me a small box.
I slid them on, throwing the box into the trash, just in time for Cameron to walk in from the back room.
"How do they look, Mother?"
"They look perfect. I can't even tell the difference," she said, with a sigh of relief.
"Hey Mrs. Winthrop," she called out, stirring the concoction in the bowl.
"Hello, darling Cameron," she said, wrapping her arms around Cameron, squeezing her tightly.
"See, that's why I like you…as rich as you are, you still treat me like a real person," Cameron said, winking at my mother, as she began to apply the mixture that would hide my indiscretion.
We waited for what seemed like hours, but that was only because we were so anxious to see if it worked, it was probably more like thirty minutes before Cameron performed the usual, wash, condition, and then the final blow out. Unfortunately, her expertise was no match for nature, and its will to dominate. I blew a tendril of hair out of my face, noting the disappointment in my mother and Cameron's face.
"I'm sorry, darlin'…it ain't comin' out," Cameron said, shaking her head.
"It's okay, my darling, we will buy you an opaque veil," my mother encouraged.
I was quite sure my face showed my true feelings, but I put on a fake smile, and agreed.
I bit at my thumb the whole way home, nervous, at what my father, better yet, what the McAllisters would say, when they saw the gray hair. I wondered if Gregory would tell the Dàil's of my indiscretion with a wolf, or if he would sweep it under the rug, just like he did everything else so that the marriage would still take place? What was it about this union that was so important, he was willing to fight tooth and nail to have it proceed, despite all the sordid events?
My mother glanced over. "It's okay. It will be okay."
"I'm not worried mother. I have a feeling that I could show up with a wolf by my side and Gregory would still want this marriage to take place."
"I have the same feeling my dear."
"Do we know why that is?" I asked, looking at her briefly, before turning in to the driveway.
"I would assume that he wants to absorb our coven. It will make him the head of the largest coven in Northern Georgia. Chances like that don't come along every day, especially since you are our only daughter, and he only has William left to marry off."
I shook my head, as I stepped out of the car. "Power, what a joke. If he only knew what real power was, he would cringe."
"And that, my darling, is exactly why the Dàil's are afraid of transcendents," she said, snaking her arm around my waist, as we walked up the porch steps.
We opened the door, my father pausing mid-step the moment he saw my hair.
"What happened?"
"Guess?" My mother smiled, as she laid her purse on the side table, and walked over to give him a kiss.
"You didn't?"
"It appears I did, daddy."
"But your eyes are the same color, maybe it's not real?" He said, hopeful.
I walked by him, patting him on the shoulder as I took my first step upstairs. "Contacts."
He hung his head between his shoulders, and looked to my mother, who shrugged as she walked to the living room.
"Does no one think this is going to wreak havoc tomorrow?" My father asked, with his arms in the air.
"Frankly, Daddy, I don't care anymore," I said, as I hurried up the stairs.
"Stella, what do you have to say about this?" My father asked, turning around toward the living room.
"I'm sorry, Gabriel, I have nothing to say. The girl found her soul mate. Look how happy she looks. I will not take that away from her today."
<
br /> I heard my mother defending me, as I made it up the stairs, a surprising change of pace. Walking into my room, I stood in front of my mirror for a while, touching the gray tresses, reminiscing at how I had gotten them. I touched my fingertips to the edge of my lips, trying to remember the exact softness of Gideon's lips.
STRING OF FATE
As I stood in front of my mirror, there was a knock at my door.
"Who is it?"
"It's William."
My head whipped toward the door, then back toward the mirror.
How am I going to hide this?
I grabbed a towel from the bathroom and bundled my hair in it, and then sat on my bed, trying to act as nonchalantly as possible. "Come in."
He walked in, and closed the door behind him.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, as I stood and walked toward the closet.
"I came to make sure everything was set for tomorrow. Is that the dress?" he asked, pointing to the large white wedding dress bag hanging from my closet door.
"What else would it be?" I asked snidely.
"Rosaline." He stepped toward the dress. "Can I see it?"
"Do as you please. It's your wedding."
"It's our wedding," he said, unzipping the bag.
"Is that all you wanted? If so, then everything is in order and I will just see you tomorrow."
He pulled the dress from the bag, and then turned to me. "Try it on?"
"Are you serious? No, thank you. Once is enough for me," I said, brushing by him, toward the bed.
As I passed, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back, the towel fell off my head, revealing my secret.
His eyes widened. "Why is your hair gray?"
I reached for the towel and wrapped my hair with it. "You don’t know?"
"Know what?"
I guess it was understandable that he didn’t know about transcending, since I had just found out about it myself.
I stuttered to find an answer. "It's a new look. Do you like it?"
He raised his eyebrow. "Um…yes…I like it."
I chuckled a little to myself, knowing he had been lying through his teeth, but it was a sweet gesture.
His hand still clutching onto mine, he took a step toward me. "Rosaline. There is no more month. There is no more time. I know you don't love me, but I ask that you extend me this courtesy. If we are unable to make each other happy, then let us seek comfort elsewhere, in secret. It is as honest a contract as I can give."
Rosaline Page 11
