The Butterfly Box_A SASS Anthology

by Anthology

  I look up into his eyes and I smile tightly.

  Molly is wrong: Dutch is my responsibility, because I'm all that he has, I'm all there is for him in this world of disappointment. And as I lean my head on his shoulder and watch the moon as it beams its false light over us, it occurs to me that it's my job to heal his heart from all the pain he keeps hidden behind his rib cage. I just need to keep dressing his wounds with my love… love that I realise now is deep and all consuming and is, without a doubt, unconditional.

  To be continued…

  Jess and Dutch’s story will be continued as a full-length novel.

  IN THE BEGINNING there was just a beast. There was nothing about him that was linked to any form of humanity, to the man deep inside of him. He was a destroyer, a killer, and he was a monster.

  The creator had no clue what he had unleashed onto the lands. He had thought having a being who was both animal and man would unite the world, protect the lands from harm, and keep peace among all living things.

  He was wrong.

  The monster destroyed everything he could find. Either in his human form or during the full moon when his power was at its peak, the monster was just that, a monster.

  He was dark.

  The creator could not take back what he had created. Legends had already spread about the creature. Legends of the beast that walked like a man most of the time, but every full moon he would turn into his truest form. It didn’t matter though; he was still the same monstrous beast during his time as a human.

  Werewolves were to be feared. Different stories and myths started to rise about them, but most were never true. That first werewolf, the first who could not be controlled, who caused more mayhem and destruction that all of his descendants would be viewed as the terrible monster he was. And he was male, only ever male.

  The creator thought of one thing that could not only save the people who were terrorized by the beast, but the man inside as well. Something to calm him. The Creator made the beast a mate, a female who would be a perfect match for the werewolf.

  She would be the light, a loving and true nurturer who would soothe the wildness inside of him.

  And she did.

  She saw the flicker of light in his soul as she called to him. She was perfect for him in every way. She was not afraid of him. Something he had never encountered before.

  They lived out their lives together. Because, you see, a werewolf’s life is not eternal. They live out their lives just like a normal human would. They grayed, aged, and they died.

  Together, the mates had many children. Their sons were werewolves like their father while their daughters remained human like their mother. The sons found mates who were made just for them.

  And the history continued. The sons of the first werewolf separated and started on their own families and formed packs. Until many centuries later, we arrive into our modern times. Werewolves remain a secret to most of the world. For the fear is still there, the fear of the unknown and unexplained.

  I’m a werewolf, like my late father and grandfather before me; I’m a wolf in Rocky, Wyoming. And inside of me beats the heart of the beast who long ago terrorized all living things.

  Because I have a mate out there and I let her go when I should have held onto her for dear life, even at our young age. The life I thought I would have after finding my mate, the life my late father always told me about, was not to be. And it royally sucks sometimes.

  I was a great kid; I respected my mother and revered my father as my leader and ranked werewolf. I did well in school and was always kind to everyone, even if they didn’t deserve it.

  But none of that amounted to anything for me to keep my mate. She still left and I fucking let her. For that, I carry the pain created from not holding onto her. I became bitter with my life. I rarely smile, but that is all about to change. I didn’t see any of it coming, which only pisses me off more …

  When I was growing up, I was in awe of the love my parents had for one another. I knew that my mom meant the world to my dad. She was kind, sweet, and an all-around wonderful woman. She was unable to have any more children after me, but that didn’t stop them from filling my life with happiness and love.

  I had friends to replace my siblings. None of them were werewolves like me, forcing me to keep a secret from all of them even to this day. But I was always up to no good with them and since I was the oldest, I was the guardian of all of us and covered our asses from getting into trouble.

  As a child, I knew my parents couldn’t afford a lot of material things. I never asked for anything, just my parents’ time. Being with them meant the world to me. From my dad, I learned how to fish, hunt, track, skin animals, and so many more things. We did everything together. He was my best friend. He may have been stern, but he was fair. I knew even when I was being yelled at that he still loved me.

  “Every werewolf has someone made just for him.” My dad had told me before he and my mom’s tragic accident which claimed both of their lives. “When you find her, you will do anything and everything to love and protect her. She will be your perfect match.”

  While my friends huffed and rolled their eyes at their dads when getting the birds and the bees talk, I truly absorbed my dad’s words and held onto them as a dream. I saw the love he and my mom shared. I saw how no matter what she asked for my dad would do his best; to paint the house, replace carpet, or save for an entire year to buy her a necklace with all our birthstones in it.

  I couldn’t wait till I found my mate and share the same kind of love with her.

  I met Annabelle Daniels six months after I lost my parents, I was thirteen and struggling with my parents’ unexplained death and my new found hormones. She wasn’t a new girl, just a year younger than me. She had sunny blond hair and her eyes were the color of the sky on a clear fall day.

  It was her scent of honey and cinnamon that drew my attention to her first. I was sitting in the lunchroom when my body became overwhelmed with a need I had never experienced before.

  My wolf, who had always talked to me, jerked to attention as well.

  Mate.

  We were in an agreement the scent was from my mate. I didn’t expect it to happen at such a young age, but it was a welcome feeling away from the pain that consumed me.

  She was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. I basically scrambled to get her attention. She didn’t care about fashion or make-up, she was true and pure. I knew with all my heart I would love her the best way I could.

  We had become quick friends and not long after were dating.

  She loved being outside with me and she always had a camera with us. She was the balm I needed to deal with everything in my life. The best thing was that she didn’t care I was a werewolf and quickly accepted all the knowledge I gave her about my history.

  For three years we were inseparable. Through those short years she tested my nerves and teased me, but we were together. We felt we would always be together, even as teenagers because that was what I was taught and in turn, I taught it to her as well.

  Everyone knew in our small school we were a couple and no one messed with either of us. Guys would stay clear of Anna in fear of me and girls would stay clear of me because Anna had no problem putting some girl in her place for hitting on me. But it wasn’t people our age that would end us.

  Her parents, Darling and Amos, were complete opposites from one another and nothing like my parents. Darling was a wonderful woman and mother. She was kind to me and loved the fact her little bird had someone to protect her.

  Amos, on the other hand, was horrible. He hated me with a passion and made no attempt to hide it. I never understood it. Hell, I still don’t. He never gave Anna the time of day or even acknowledged her most days, so I didn’t get why he cared who she was in love with.

  Her parents divorced right after she turned sixteen and the plans we had made for our future changed. Amos’ assery drove Anna to make the decision to leave with Darling, who was moving back to No
rth Carolina where her family was from.

  On that day, I experienced a pain far worse than the death of my parents created. It was like I was losing a piece of me, my heart, and any true happiness I had left. I will never forget running after her mom’s car in the pouring rain, screaming out her name.

  Weeks went by and I fell into a depression before I got any news of Anna. She never called me after she got to wherever she was going and that hurt. I was at a friend’s house, nursing a stolen beer from his mom’s refrigerator in his basement when his cousin, Thea, came in and told us she had heard Anna moved on.

  Fight for her. Go after her.

  She doesn’t want us.

  Those were the last words I ever heard from my wolf.

  Even years later, a decade, I wake with soaked sheets, a heaving chest, and howling.

  “ANNABELLE!”

  “ANNABELLE!”

  My name rips through my conscious in a disembodied voice that can only belong to one person.

  Derek.

  My spine goes ramrod straight in my seat. Frantically, I check to see if I was dreaming or if I really did hear his voice, the very same one of the teenage boy I loved once. But there is nothing around me other than the rolling plains as we drive down a barely there road to our next location.

  I wish I could get a break from his voice. I thought I was cured a month ago when I quit hearing him, so much for hoping. Even here in the heart of Africa, I still hear his haunting cry.

  Slumping back in my seat, I stare out the window at the plains of Amboseli National Park in Kenya. It’s funny how this place reminds me of home.

  Ha!

  Home is a relative term, but the plains here on this spring day are almost as green as the rolling plains of Wyoming.

  I think that’s why I keep returning to Kenya. If the springs remind me of my home state, it’s the dry colors that gut me. They are as dry as Wyoming. Even the distant view of Mt. Kilimanjaro reminds me of that place I left long ago. The only differenced that keep me from thinking I am back in the states are the animals and the foliage.

  Elephants walk in the distance while zebras call to one another.

  Home.

  It still stings thinking about my first home. I haven’t been back in ten years. I never wanted to step foot in Fetterman, Wyoming again after my parents divorced. That is, until now. The lands call to me, begging me to go home. But there is something deeper, something in my soul that aches for me to be back there.

  Ten years …

  God, it has been a long time and yet it is still fresh in my mind. As if it happened yesterday. My mind can still focus on Derek and the completely broken and devastated look on his face as I drove away with my mom. It is burned into my memory for all eternity. He was soaked to the bone and even though it was raining, I knew he was crying.

  And then I remind myself it was all a lie.

  No, it wasn’t.

  I brush off the past and the part of me that is still the silly little girl who thought the boy she met and fell in love with truly wanted her for life. The day we met was the most amazing day of my life, well, at the time. We met in the lunch room at the junior high school in Fetterman. The Junior High at Rocky, a smaller town thirty minutes away, was closed for much needed repairs, forcing the students to be bussed into Fetterman to attend school with me and my classmates.

  I was walking into the lunch room with two of my friends when something unexplainable overtook my body and senses. I could feel it deep within me, like I was being pulled toward something in the room. My twelve year old self couldn’t explain it, but as I got older, I learned it was attraction at an insanely deep level; a rare kind, one that only happens once in your life.

  I was sitting with my friends, only half listening to whatever gossip they were interested in. I never paid enough attention to know what was going on. I was usually looking at magazines like National Geographic or Smithsonian. I knew what I wanted to do with my life even at that age. Photography pulled me in, especially photographing animals. The lighting, details, and contrast of pictures intrigued me.

  My nose was deep in one of my magazines while I ate whatever concoction my mom had made for me. She refused to let me eat anything from school. If it wasn’t organic, it wasn’t allowed in my body. Movement in the corner of my eye had drawn my attention up … and … up until my eyes settled on shaggy black hair and the most piercing blue eyes I had ever seen. He was taller and far more muscular than any of the boys I had gone to school with up to this point. He was intimidating, but I wasn’t scared, I was curious.

  “Hi,” his smile was blinding. “I’m Derek Sumerland.”

  My voice was lost and dried out just as my heart rate picked up from his words hinting me. My mind stumbled to say anything, screaming in my head especially when he took a seat across the table from me. He wasn’t focused on my friends; his eyes were set only on me, like I hung the sun and the moon.

  Once I was able to form a coherent thought and get it out my mouth, I grew insanely comfortable with him at an equally insane rate. After only a short period of time, I grew to care deeply about him and couldn’t imagine my life without him in it.

  I learned anything and everything about him; one being he was one of the students from Rocky. As time went on we grew closer until I realized he was the one I wanted to spend my life with, or so I thought for my young age.

  I knew what we had together was wonderful. There were times I doubted it, especially when it came to Thea, a girl who wanted more attention than she needed.

  I thought what Derek and I had was real …

  “Helloooo! Spence to Annabelle!” I’m rattled from my thoughts by my best friend, Spence. “You in there?” I blink in slow succession and glance over at him in the driver’s seat.

  “I’m here.” I offer him weakly. I try to hide the fact I was thinking about Derek, again. I turn on my best convincing smile. He doesn’t buy it in the least with the way his eyes roll and he focuses back on his driving.

  Six foot one, blond surfer boy hair with a tan to match, Spence fits well into the eye candy category. He is my most cherished friend. All the girlfriends I had throw our friendships away because of their jealousy over my relationship with Derek. When I moved, I never bothered to make new ones.

  I finally let someone outside of my family in when I went to college and met Spence. I didn’t have a roommate at first, but soon was told I would have one. I was shocked to see him walk in my door. His boyfriend at the time managed to hack into the college housing and get Spence into a girls’ dorm since he was being hazed in the dorm he was originally assigned to.

  I love everything about him. He’s my rock when I need to be grounded.

  “Little bird, where is your head?” He laughs. “Never mind, I know where, or rather who. Did you not hear your phone ring?”

  Frowning, I look down at my satellite phone as it lights up from the cup holder. “No?”

  I start to reach for it, but Spence snatches it up and answers it before my hand can even get an inch off of my lap.

  I glare at him as he sticks his tongue out at me. “Hey, momma bear!” Spence’s overzealous voice amplifies in the Jeep around us. “Yeah, she’s with me.” He glances over at me, shades pulled down so he can see me clearly. “She’s thinking about him again … Yeah, here she is … Love you, too!” He finally hands the phone over to me.

  “Hi, mom.”

  “Hello, little bird!” My mom’s over flamboyant voice comes through the speaker. I have to pull it away from my ear to save my eardrum. “How are my world travelers?”

  I take a deep breath. My mom has lived vicariously through me since she divorced my dad. Sure, she’s had her own adventures through the vast amounts of hobbies and enterprises she has started since we moved, but as for traveling, she hasn’t left North Carolina since we got there. It’s made her difficult at times.

  “We are well; on our way to shoot some pictures of the newborns for the next spread we are workin
g on.” I’m thrilled to be doing this. I love losing myself to get great pictures. It is also a great way to distract me from reminiscing or thinking of Derek. “We already have some of elephant calves and water buffalo. Now we are working on zebras and giraffes. How are you doing?”

  I try my best to check in with her every couple of weeks and if I miss a call she doesn’t worry. That’s one of the things I love about my mom, she gives me space. I know she loves me, but I’m an adult and my own person. She trusts me to make the right decisions and as long as I call her every once in a while to let her know we are fine or haven’t been captured somewhere.

  “Oh, wonderful!” I can see her clapping on her end. “I would have loved to travel more when I was younger …” She sighs. “I’m doing well.”

  Why do I have the feeling there is a reason she called and I’m not going to like it?

  “I called for a reason, Annie.” She’s serious, and if there is one thing about my mom everyone knows, she doesn’t do serious very often.

  This isn’t good, she’s always been full of happiness and is a complete free spirit, bad energy isn’t welcome in her temple – her body.

  “What’s wrong, mom?” My brows crease as I exchange a considered look with Spence.

  “It’s your father.” The hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention.

  Great.

  That man hasn’t been my father in years. Even long before my mom divorced him, he hadn’t be a father to me. I did everything I could to gain his love and attention, but nothing ever worked. He didn’t even try to reach out to me after I left with my mom.

  “I may have Amos’ blood pumping in my veins, but he isn’t my father.” I hiss into the phone, turning away from Spence.

  “He is, Annabelle.” Her tone is deadly as she utters my name.

  Rolling my eyes, I huff and give in. “What is going on, mom?”

  “He’s dying.” I’m baffled at the dread that falls into my stomach. I shouldn’t care, but she is right, he is still my father. “You are his only child …”