by Danae Ayusso
Damian barked in amusement and slowly backed towards her, purposely acting as a block between the snarling sandy-colored wolf and Akia.
Adam wasn’t amused and followed.
Akia cocked the hammer back. “Not another step, Adam,” she warned.
The sandy wolf snarled, his dark amber eyes narrowing as they focused on his target.
“Wrong answer,” she said when he jumped, and pulled the trigger.
The bullet grazed Adam’s shoulder and his front legs buckled when he landed on the ground, shy of his target.
“I strongly suggest you stay down,” she venomously warned.
“Well that escalated quickly,” Faelan said, joining them. “Ooh, is the pure black one your man?” he mused, eying the unfamiliar wolf protectively standing between Akia and the bleeding, snarling wolf.
“If you touch my mate again,” Akia hissed, glaring at the bleeding wolf, “the next one won’t be a flesh wound. He is mine!” she snarled the latter with a menacing growl that stole the attention of all those at the estate.
Faelan chuckled, but it was forced. “So you know he’s one of us now? Good to know. Put the gun away before Seff has a bitch-fit. Dad isn’t going to be happy that you shot Varg, even if he did deserve it.”
“He’ll live,” she said in a cold, detached tone.
Faelan sniffed wildly then groaned. “Oh no,” he gasped.
Akia looked from the gun in her hand to Adam and smirked when their eyes met. “Hmm,” she purred. “It’s been a long time, Adam. We should play before the black moon,” she sinuously suggested. “Go for a run and bathe in blood.”
Damian’s head tilted to the side confused before he growled at her.
“Forgive me,” Faelan said before his fist slammed into the side of Akia’s head. He caught her body before it hit the ground then pulled her into his arms.
Damian snarled, his hackle rising as he stalked towards them.
Faelan sighed. “Trust me, this is for the best,” he tried to explain. “Varg and his annoying wolf, Adam, tend to bring Eve out in Akia. Sis would never forgive herself if Eve got out, ran around unchecked, or hurt you. This is for the best.”
The snarling, black wolf’s shoulders popped and cracked before his hips did the same and the black hair fell away, leaving smooth, muscular olive toned flesh behind. Paws narrowed and lengthened, the claws retracting to short, rounded tip fingernails. Maw cracked and popped as it retracted, the saliva glistening fangs shortened and returned to their square shape and size. Once the transformation was complete, Damian choked, struggling to shake the lingering sensations of his wolf and the heat that accompanied his presence before he erected himself.
Faelan eyed him then smirked. “Very nice,” he said. “Who would have thought my baby sister had such good taste in men. I mean… Very nice,” he repeated, his attention remaining on Damian’s virile masculinity. “Damn, it truly must be magnificent to behold when love’s sweet arrow is fully hard and standing at attention, ready to thrust into…a hot lad rocking a kilt with nothing on under it but a bow and an auburn coat that glistens like threads of metallic cashmere in the sun. Care to help me test my theory?” he purred before curling his tongue at him.
Damian gave him a look. “Stop checking me out,” he snapped at him. “In case you didn’t hear, I am hers,” he said, standing directly in front of them. “Why did you do that?” he demanded, caressing the hair back from Akia’s face, assessing her for damage. When he pulled her eyelid back, to check to see if her pupils were responsive or sluggish, he jumped back, a deep growl rolling from the base of his throat.
Faelan sighed. “They’re amber, not ocean-blue, huh?” he surmised.
Absently, Damian shook his head; never had he seen anything like it before, and it honestly terrified him more than the thought of his father finding out that his youngest son had been hiding the lone female werewolf in existence.
“Walk with me,” Faelan said, “clothing optional of course.”
Damian nodded then walked with him, his attention on Akia’s face.
Connell, Rafe, and Ulrik followed, in wolf form, just in case Adam attacked since he was currently preoccupied with healing himself so he could return to his human state.
They headed back towards the manor where Louvel, Seff and Beowulf were waiting, watching from the distance and trying to hide their concerns. In silence they went through the manor, down two sets of stairs, and into the cellar where three large, iron cells were. It was freezing, smelled heavily of stale, moist air, the granite floors were like ice under Damian’s bare feet, and he could see his breath every time he exhaled. They weren’t the first dungeon-like conditions he’d been in, or the least inviting, but at that moment he felt as if he had voluntarily ventured into the depths of Hell, but it was only going to get worse.
Faelan ducked into the center cell with Akia, laying her down on the blanket that was on the floor. Tenderly he kissed her head, brushing her hair back from her face. “I only did this because I love you, and he loves you, so he deserves to know. One day you’ll forgive me,” he whispered before kissing her forehead again then exited the cell.
Once the heavy iron door was secured, Faelan nodded then walked out of the cellar, taking the stairs two at a time, leaving Beowulf and Damian with the unconscious woman.
“You have questions,” Beowulf said, offering Damian a blanket.
“That would be putting it mildly,” he retorted, taking the blanket. “She…changed, that is the only way I can describe it. Her smell even changed as she stood there. She was no longer the woman I love, but…”
“Evil,” Beowulf offered, taking a seat on the floor.
Damian gave him a look. “I wouldn’t call it evil… How is she possible? How is any of this possible?”
Beowulf shrugged. “Sex, I would imagine,” he said with a chuckle. “How long have you known what she is?”
“Years,” Damian admitted, his attention on the face of the unconscious woman on the other side of the bars separating them. “Her cycle is something I actually look forward to,” he admitted with a small smile. “The sex is amazing, animalistic of course, but there’s this moment when she’s right at the peak of release that our souls entwine, and I can feel, hear, and sense everything within her that she is much too reserved to share with me. One night, she nearly went over the edge, and it was a struggle to bring her back. I didn’t know what edge she was nearly going over or what would happen, but I clearly sensed that she was conflicted about it because she was suddenly flooded with fear. I stopped, made her stop, and tried to console her. She tried to open up to me, but as quickly as the words were there, she was swallowing them again, and they were replaced by tears.”
Beowulf shook his head; he was unaware of any of that since she left home right after her first cycle.
“One time when Akia was upset,” Damian continued, “and really emotional, she lashed out and accidentally scratched me. Once she apologized, and cried some more, we were once again in a passionate embrace. When I showered, the water stung at my back and chest where she had scratched me. They weren’t healing. And that was the moment I knew that something was very wrong.
“Slightly scared… Okay, I will admit that I was terrified, so I ran from her, tried to keep myself from her by working late and spending time with my family. But it was of no use. Everything reminded me of her; my dreams were plagued by the memories of our time together; her scent haunted me; and her taste I couldn’t wash from my tongue. My mother told me that the answers lay in my heart, and that I needed to listen to my heart for once. So I did.”
Beowulf nodded. “Do you regret it?”
“Not at all. Never have I regretted anything when it pertains to your daughter. I love her,” Damian assured him. “I would die for her, and when my father finds out, I just might.”
That, oddly enough, gave Beowulf comfort and might have prevented a war between packs for the moment.
“We don’t know where she st
ems from,” Beowulf said in a soft tone. “Son, stop eavesdropping,” he called out.
A blue-tinted wolf lopped the rest of the way down the stairs then sulked into the cellar and flopped down next to Beowulf.
Tenderly he rubbed his furry blue head. “You can stay until Eve comes,” he offered.
The young wolf nodded.
“Eve?” Damian asked.
“That’s what my daughter calls her wolf,” he explained. “She has no control over her, none, and that terrifies Akia. When I found her, it was purely by accident, and she was terrified and confused, backed into a corner and nearly killed me, but I took a chance and gambled on her.”
Damian swallowed the lump in his throat. “Where did you find her?”
“While dealing with an issue one of my lovely sons had found himself neck deep in while in Cambodia, I heard whispers of a travelling show that was unlike any other, and for the right price a man could play with the talent.”
Ulrik whimpered.
Beowulf caressed his head. “I know, Child. I went solely with the objective of killing them all… My patience has only been achieved over the years because of righting my moral compass, and burning a child sex trade sideshow to the ground would have been compass righting to say the least. However, when I got there, I was too late.”
Damian nodded; his sole attention on the face of the woman he loved as she shivered and convulsed on the floor. “What did they do to her?” he managed to ask.
“Honestly? I don’t know,” Beowulf admitted. “By the time I got there all I found were corpses; men, women, children, and werewolves strung across the darkened club. It looked as if a savage pack of rabid wolves had attacked, ripping each person limb from limb, entrails were wrapped around throats that no longer bled, eyes were gouged out, hearts were all missing… Never in my centuries of life had I seen anything so gruesome. Since there were no children or wolf survivors, I turned to leave, and that’s when I caught a strange scent.
“In a darkened corner was a tiny creature, one that was so covered in filth and blood that it was nearly unrecognizable. I couldn’t tell if the creature was a female, but there was no mistaking the burning amber eyes locked on mine and the menacing growl rolling from their throat. Clutched in tiny, clawed hands was a heart, one of many devoured that evening, I suppose, and the little creature was ripping and tearing at it with tiny fanged teeth, feeding as if they hadn’t ever eaten before. ‘I will not hurt you,’ I whispered, and they growled at me even more and scampered away from me, the partially eaten heart clenched between their teeth, moving in a defensive crouch as if sizing me up for their next meal. ‘I can take you away from here where no one will ever touch you again,’ I promised.
“Sadly, there was no way of reasoning with the creature, and when I accidentally backed it into a corner, I made the mistake of reaching for them, and they attacked.” Beowulf pulled down the collar of his shirt, and Damian’s eyes followed the motion before widening; blemishing his light tan skin were soft pink scars from fangs and claws, the smallest fangs and claws that he’d ever seen, but the intent was very clear: she was trying to kill him. “Much like Fae had, I resorted to violent means to subdue the amber-eyed creature. Once back to the villa, Seff tended to my wounds while Louvel tended to the tiny wolf I brought with me. When Louvel joined us, all the color had drained from his complexion, and he looked as if he was faint. At first I thought the tiny demon had done something to him, his hands to the elbows were covered in blood, but it was not his… He had bathed the child while they were unconscious and that was when he made the discovery that the tiny wolf was a female.
“Seff demanded that we kill her, that it was a bad omen. Louvel got drunk, his way of dealing with problems. And as much as I wanted to agree with both of them, I couldn’t. There was something about her, something beyond her gender, that made me curious. Her eyes were those of a wolf while in human form, that I had never seen outside of in the throes of transformation. When I went to check on her, the room was apparently empty. She was nowhere to be found-”
“The closet,” Damian interrupted.
Beowulf chuckled. “Yes. She was huddled in the closet, the fear radiating from her nearly dropped me to my knees, and when she looked up at me, her beautiful ocean-blue eyes caused tears to flood mine. With only a look, she bewitched me—mind, body, soul, and wolf—and I knew that I had to risk everything in order to protect her at all costs. It was a fight, Seff was adamantly against it, but I am the Alpha, and he was still the Beta. After nearly a month, she was able to stop gorging herself with so much food that she’d throw up before trying to eat what she vomited in fear of starving again. We watched and waited on the new and full moons, but she merely slept as if she was in a coma. Finally, I was able to convince her to board an airplane and it would take her home.
“The boys were terrified of her, with good reason, I suppose. Connell poked and prodded her, ran tests and did a genetic workup. The tests confirmed she was like any other werewolf. Over the first few years she grew and put on weight, the effects from the malnourishment she was subjected to corrected itself as expected in a werewolf, and she took that form,” he said, motioning towards the unconscious woman. “Even though she was in the body of a woman now, she was still a terrified little girl. The first year she didn’t speak, not once. For five years she never made eye contact with people and would flinch away from someone if they moved too quickly or in a means that could be construed as violent. Her system started to align with the lunar cycle, it took years, and when it did we got the grave misfortune of meeting Eve’s acquaintance.
“At first I wasn’t sure what to think of it,” Beowulf admitted, sounding reluctant to speak of it. “The boys were excited to get to run with their baby sister, but that excitement quickly turned to terror when she did unmentionables… There was no cardinal rule that Eve did not long to break. When we pressed the matter, Akia had no idea of what we were talking about. To her, she merely sleeps when the wolf takes over.”
Damian gasped; that was completely insane and unheard of! Never did he think that it was even possible. “They are one in the same,” he argued.
He chuckled. “To one that boasts from the strong bloodline that you do, you wouldn’t be aware of the struggle that some have with their inner wolves. Varg’s wolf is Adam, the first of his bloodline; born from a recessive gene father. This little guy,” he mused and tousled Ulrik’s furry head, “has unprecedented control over his wolf like you do, and enjoys changing at whim, doesn’t feel the siren like call of the moon, and his wolf only longs to play, not hunt. He has made Louvel very proud of him.”
Ulrik rolled to his back and shook his legs.
Damian shook his head; this was all very strange to him. His pack was completely different than Akia’s, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to handle that.
“Connie, Fae, and Rafe, they have control over their wolves, but the call of the moon still speaks to them. Connie struggles with keeping his wolf contained. He has to run a few times a week in order to keep from overheating and losing control. When he does lose his hold on the wolf, it isn’t bloody. Usually he’s horny and you’ll find him peeking in windows or getting laid…don’t ask. Even though control comes with age, and they are relatively young, some struggle with it their entire lives, hence our lovely cellar…” his words trailed off when groaning came from the cell. “We’ll leave you two alone for now. You’ll know when Eve presents, you’ll be able to smell her. I can have Fae and Rafe take shifts watching her tonight so you can run.”
Damian shook his head and crawled over to the cell then reached inside, his finger just barely able to caress her hair. “I have no need to run,” he said. “I will watch after her. She is mine…if she’ll have me.”
Beowulf nodded then stood. “Come on, Kid. Let’s give them some privacy, and I’ll make sure that Louvel is around if they need anything.” He turned to Damian. “I’m going to the station with Seff. Tonight the Stray will strike again. The
re is no way he’ll be able to withstand the call, even I am struggling with it, so that should, in theory, give me an alibi. If you need anything, either of you, just yell. Louvel will be here if you need anything.”
“Thank you,” he whispered, and they left the two alone, closing the cellar door behind them.
****
Softly Akia groaned, rubbing the side of her head that apparently stopped Faelan’s fist. There’s only one thing that would have caused her brother to punch her, and that was what she was terrified of: Eve.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
“For what?” Damian asked, caressing her head.
Akia rolled over, closing the distance between them more and struggled to focus on his face. “You know very well why I’m apologizing,” she grumbled, closing her eyes. “I didn’t want you ever meeting that bitch, and yet you did… Fuck, did I shoot Varg?” she groaned. “That is so not going to end well for me.”
“He’ll get over it,” Damian assured her. “He’s been fighting with his brothers since we came down here. He wants to come down, but your father told him he wasn’t invited and his services wouldn’t be required.”
Again she groaned; that was one fight she wished she could crawl away from in the concealment of night.
In all fairness, a flesh wound was the least painful of the long list of pains she wanted to inflict on him. But hearing my mate from her lips terrified her since it was automatic, and yet it felt right. The look in Adam’s eyes, they were Varg’s eyes looking at her in pain and shock, but he couldn’t honestly have believed that she would come home to stay and be with him again. If Varg did, then he was delusional in every sense of the meaning.
“Damian, can you leave?” Akia asked, looking away from him.
“Why? Because you’re ashamed of Eve?” he asked.
“I’m ashamed of many things,” she admitted, pulling his hand from her head then brought it to her mouth and kissed it. “She’s a darkness that I cannot control, and I know that she’ll hurt you simply because I-”
