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Despair turned to doubt.
“Zale? Lycaon needs you. He saved your life, will you at least save his now?”
My hollow words rang through the forest with no reply. No stirring from creatures, just a bitter chill that bit at my face. Clouds moved like monsters above me, grey in the inky sky as the moon teased a shimmer of light before hiding again
and uncertainty was my only companion. My heart was hollow, gut wrenched that I was losing this man, this wolfman and the only one who could help had turned his back.
Loss turned to anger, I spat my wrath at the sky, “You made him, Zeus, why don’t you help? Lazy, spiteful god!”
Turning around to face Lycaon as his breathing weakened, his body shaking, glistening under the cold moon, I heard a rustle. Or did I? Maybe I was imagining it? Maybe I’d die…
From out of nowhere the huge white wolf sprung out, leaping at me, its howl piercing through my eardrums.
I screamed, my arm covering my face as his paw, claws out came lunging at me. Falling to the ground, blood pouring from my arm, I looked up to find him right in front of me. Jaw curled back, growling. I did nothing to defend myself.
Shaking uncontrollably, I raised my head but kept my eyes low. Perhaps my submission would help. Or not? Opening his jaws, he snarled in my face threateningly and for a moment I froze in terror.
I glanced at Lycaon, hopeless as it was, dying, yet being beside him gave me that feeling, the completeness that I never knew I wanted or needed.
Then the snapping of bones, a sharp cry I cast a look to see Zale transforming. On all fours, his body ripped, flesh and blood filling my nose as he transitioned violently back into a man.
It was almost hard to fear him, he was beautiful. Hooded dark eyes, framed with chestnut brows and hair, his face was worn, but kind. Aquiline features and his body lean and toned, smaller than Lycaon, his father.
He looked like a statue that had been bathed in magic and come to life.
Shooting me a mean stare his eyes narrowed. His voice was deep and smooth. “I wanted to kill him. For leaving me. Who did this to him?”
“Adara. They shot him with liquid silver, he has, I don’t know, thirty minutes until it reaches his heart? Can you give him your blood?”
He crouched beside Lycaon, looking at him, his expression like a wolf’s, jerking, sudden movements, sniffing over his maker.
“Why? So you can betray him as Loren betrayed me? Leave him, he has lived long enough. And he abandons every one of his progeny.”
He stood up, rolling his shoulders back, small lips pressed tightly together. “I want to kill you for being a witch. But I’m giving you one chance to leave. Then,” his icy stare fell to Lycaon, “then I will kill my maker….”
“I’m not leaving him.” I could almost smell the anger raging from him.
“I thought you loved Loren, and she you? And now you’re punishing Lycaon for this? Adara is responsible, though they’ll be pleased that you’re killing the father of wolves. It’ll save them the job. And you’ll be next.”
His face contorted, mouth wide as fangs appeared. His hands were around my neck before I could blink, as he flung me against a tree, then held me there, his face a hair’s breadth from mine.
“What do you know of love? You’ve only met him recently, huh? And you gave him your blood, thereby casting a binding spell on him. A spell he can never undo. A wolf spell… Yes, I know your kind, I was deceived by a witch, remember? I thought she loved me, but she used me, just as you are using him.”
He loosened one hand, pointed one finger with an extended claw. “And now I will end you, bitch.”
All the colours around me drained. My mind slowed, like I was dreaming. I had to concentrate just to breathe. But then I realised that was pointless as he was about to end this life. My life. Struggling, I tried to turn my head, I just wanted one more glance at him, just one more look at Lycaon before I died.
That feeling passed, and again I felt something, or someone watching me. Now it almost felt like this was a game, and I was the puppet.Eyes burned into me. With Zale before me,I reacted on instinct I guessed, my knee shoving between his legs.
He was naked, this was his only vulnerability and my only chance. He doubled over in pain. Something got the wind in me, I grabbed the back of his neck as he clutched at his groin.
“I love Lycaon. Giving him my blood was no spell, you fool. He would’ve died. You could've helped him but you were too wrapped up in your sorrow, your pain to help another. You’re addicted to it, to the pain. It’s all you know. One hundred years of anger. One hundred years of loss, of hate, of vitriol. But you’ve learned nothing. Perhaps Loren did deceive you, I don’t know. Or perhaps she did love you and was possessed by Adara. She ran away with you, married you, abandoned her family and I doubt that was an act. You’ve been angry for so long, as Marrock said with fighting, that you don’t know any other way. Hate is all you know now. But it’s not just killing you now, eating away at your heart, now your hate is killing others. Your kin, your father. You are annihilating an entire pack for your rage. Lycaon was a fool to make you a werewolf. You’re too weak for immortality. You’re pathetic.”
I thrust him to the floor, shaken, my mouth open like a puppet. I had no idea where that came from, and he lurched up at me, tooth and claw. I held up my chin. “Do it, kill me. I’m unarmed. That’s who you are. Slaughtering those who are trying to help, slaughtering the innocent. I wanted to help you and Loren, her soul to find peace. It’s an abomination that we are punished for who we love. But you carry on, and this hatred will fuel Adara for another century. Add reason for their discrimination.”
He stopped. His mouth opened as he glanced from his father to me, his chest rising and falling heavily.
Gruff, he replied. “If I help him now, you will leave. You will leave him now and forever. No witch should ever walk on Savernake territory again.”
