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My gaze snapped up to her.
“Sorry,” she said, wringing her hands together, self-conscious. “I’ll leave you in peace. Apologies, Alpha.”
She made to retreat, but I said, “Don’t. Tell me more.”
She nodded. “Well, the lycan and Primal Born left their respective families and settled into a home together in the Unclaimed Territory. They hid away from the world, especially because the vampire was pregnant. But during labor, something went wrong, and the baby wouldn’t come. So, in a panic, the lycan rushed his vampire bride to the nearest pack and begged their healer for help. The healer stated that better luck would be found among the vampires. After all, lycan anatomy is different. So off they went again.
“My grandmother told me that story when I was a little girl. She would tell it over and over again, and each time I would ask her why it didn’t have a happily ever after? Or what happened after that. She’d say the same thing each time, that it was real life. And that the story was left unfinished because no one knew exactly what happened in between. In reality, the lycan was reported missing. Then a while later, reported dead.
“The vampire’s sister claimed that he broke into her home, attacked and killed her sister in cold blood, leaving her with no choice but to end his life in self-defense. There was no word of a baby, nor of a pregnancy. There were supposedly legal trials, but they were never fair, because around the same time, the Wolf Fever outbreaks began anew with, of course, the Lucerin pack at its center. The case was dismissed with some strange story that the vampire’s death was at the hands of a lycan. Not one infected with the Fever, but one that was feral born. They made it sound like a dirty thing, to be lycan. Equivalent to being out of control, violent.
“After all, if a lycan could kill a Primal Born, imagine how dangerous they would be to humans.”
My mind was tripping over itself to connect all the dots. “So, nothing of the child at all? Nothing ever came to light?”
“Even if the child survived, they would’ve been a hybrid and most likely killed anyway as all hybrids are.”
Not all …
“That’s one bloody disturbing story. Was that supposed to make me feel better, Clover?”
She scratched her scalp, a serious look on her face. “No,” she said after some time. “I suppose not.” She laughed, a light, contagious sound. “There was a point to this though.”
My own laughter was cut off by a hiss of breath as a stabbing pain cut through my side. I sank to the bed, the handkerchief still pressed to my wound. “I’m listening.”
“Society makes it difficult for people to fall in love with who they fall in love with. It’s not like it’s always a choice. It’s not always convenient what or who our hearts want, as I have a feeling you know very well.” Her head was slightly lowered, as if she expected to be yelled at for being so bold.
“Clover,” I said. “It doesn’t matter what my heart wants. My story would be the same as the one you just told.”
“Isn’t it funny? What could’ve been one the greatest love stories among our kinds—proof we could all be compatible—ended in mystery and tragedy. Maybe things will change. Maybe we just need someone brave enough to change it.”
We needed someone powerful enough to dismantle those who did have the power. But sadly, the balance of the world was not in favor of those considered monstrous or feral. “When did this tragic story supposedly happen?” I asked her.
“Thirty-two years ago. At the start of the Partition that outcast us all.”
“And you believe this truly happened?”
“My previous pack did.” She shrugged. “Part of me likes the idea that such a love could’ve existed, but I’m also saddened by the way it ended.”
Maybe it was a coincidence that Aura was thirty-two years old, but for her to have escaped undetected was certainly a miracle. I wished she had another female to discuss Heat and other biological things with, since I will never experience them as a male lycan. I wished we lived in a different world, but it was a pointless desire. I felt powerless staring into the gaping maw of unfairness.
“Alright,” said Clover. “Let’s get that wound cleaned up.”
42
THEORIES
AURA
I stood in front of my classroom, struggling to get past the sound of each student’s heart beating. I could hear their blood rushing through their veins, and saliva pooled in my mouth as my gaze fixed on one of the humans in the front row. I watched his jugular pulse as his throat bobbed.
There were still ten minutes left of class, but the itch from my arms had spread to my legs. Relentless. I rubbed my skin and stared at the clock. Nine more minutes.
“For the next class,” I forced myself to say, “we’ll be talking about preservative components in the process of making salves.” Ironic when I desperately needed one. “Class dismissed. Enjoy the extra nine minutes.”
The chairs scraped the floor, murmurs and chatter filling the space as students filed out of the room. I waited a few moments longer before grabbing my briefcase and hurrying to the workshop. Of course, I wasn’t alone. Shan was busy reaching into a cauldron with metal tongs. He beamed up at me, his goggles fogging up. “Good afternoon, Aura,” he said.
Why the hells was he here at this time again?
