by Terra Wolf
An impatient knock on the door snapped her out of her thoughts.
“Avelyn, hurry up! I’ve got it.”
Even though Delyse had whispered, Avelyn could hear the excitement in her voice. She threw on her bathrobe, snatched a dry towel for her hair, and unlocked the door.
“Where is it?”
“Right here,” said Delyse. She motioned for her friend to follow her to one of the single beds. They both sat down, and Delyse pulled out a white envelope. Avelyn grabbed it and opened it with trembling hands. She took out the shiny ID card and looked closely at her own picture. Joanna Thorne. She repeated the name two more times, loving the way it rolled down her lips. She hugged Delyse, squeezing her small frame so hard that the girl could hardly breathe for a moment.
“Thank you! Thank you so much!”
“No problem,” smiled Delyse. “I told you my brother would do anything for his little sister.”
Avelyn finally let go and put the ID card back into its envelope.
“I’ll hide it somewhere safe. This is my ticket out, Delyse. Three more months and I’ll be far away, enjoying a latte in a fancy Italian café and drawing the design sketches for my small, pretty bakery.”
Delyse gave her another smile, but her eyes showed sadness. However, she knew that Avelyn had to leave. It was better for her to end up in Italy, free to follow her dream, than on the streets of London or in a brothel.
“Well, I have Greek Philosophy in 10 minutes, so I’d better run. Talk to you later.” She jumped off the bed and went to her desk to get her books. She sniffed her nose silently and ran out the door before Avelyn could notice that she was barely holding her tears back.
Alone in the room, Avelyn slipped the envelope under her mattress. She went to the tall windows and pulled the curtains back, letting the warm afternoon sun invade the room. She looked at the four single beds, all lined up against the walls, then at the small desks beside them, filled with papers, books, pens and pencils. Claudia had left her laptop on her nightstand, an empty glass of water on top of it. Her side of the room was a complete mess, and Delyse always complained about it. Avelyn’s desk and nightstand were clean and well-organized. Of course, it had a lot to do with the fact that she had packed most of her things and stuffed the huge suitcase under her bed.
It was no secret that she was preparing to leave Alma Venus, and that was why the Guardians didn’t care that she wasn’t attending her classes anymore. No one cared. Avelyn was a lost cause. She would never become a good bride for no shifter because no shifter wanted her. The buyers came to Alma Venus, checked the catalog, interviewed their prospective brides, usually chose an innocent, fragile beauty, and left. Few of them ever requested for Avelyn to be brought to them, and when they did, she made sure that not only her body showed how different she was from the other girls, but also her attitude. She figured out long ago that there were enough men who preferred curvier women, and the fact that the stylists and make-up artists at Alma Venus did their best to enhance her physical qualities hurt her more than anything when one of those clients happened to show up. So, Avelyn did her best to be rude and make a show of her ignorance and impertinence. If they asked her to sing, she would raise her voice so high that she would sound like a wounded magpie, and if they asked her to dance, she would display the grace of a clumsy she-bear in ballet slippers. She wrote the most cringingly romantic poems and drew the thickest, shakiest ink lines on washi paper, insulting the entire art of sumi-e with her horrible attempts. “Cooking? Oh no, sir, you wouldn’t catch me dead in the kitchen unless it is to taste the delicious dishes your personal chef prepared. Can’t you tell?” And she’d give them a wicked, crooked smile.
Maybe there were clients who could see through her act, but if there was one thing all shape-shifters had in common, it was the desire to control their mates, to bring them to their knees and have them begging for attention and affection. Wolf-shifters, bear-shifters, dragon-shifters, fox-shifters… their animal form didn’t matter when the beast inside craved the same thing: complete control. That was why the peace between the shape-shifters and humans had ended up being so unfair to the latter party. Reasoning with them was almost impossible. Avelyn despised them. At 14, when she fully grasped the idea that living and studying at Alma Venus Boarding School actually meant that she was being bred for marriage, and that once she turned 18 she would be sold to the highest bidder, Avelyn decided that no one would ever own her. They would never own her body, her wits, her talent for painting and singing, her soul. She started eating. She ate two courses plus dessert, and she made sure she had lots of snacks between the main meals. When the Guardians noticed she was getting bigger and bigger with each passing month, they forced her to go on diet. They came to such lengths as to bring a nutritionist and request that one of the chefs at Alma Venus cooked especially for her. But Avelyn had made a plan and she was determined to stick to it no matter what. She had friends. That was when Delyse and Claudia started sneaking food into the bedroom they shared, and kept Avelyn’s secret from their other roommate, Amelia. They understood their friend’s motivation, and even though they didn’t agree with her plan and they often talked about how they would never have the courage to mess like that with their own bodies, they admired Avelyn and supported her. Soon, the nutritionist claimed she had no idea why Avelyn kept growing in size no matter what diet she tried, and concluded it must be hereditary. The school principal was at a loss. Miss Delacroix had paid a fair price for Avelyn when the girl’s mother had come to her office and begged her to take her daughter, who was only 8 months old, and save her other two sons from starvation. Even if the young woman was covered in dirt, her hair tangled and slimy, and even though the old rags she was wearing hung off her skeleton-like body, Miss Delacroix could tell she was a beauty. Deep blue eyes, rich, curly hair of a reddish blond, and a delicate body frame. Yes, she had paid a fair price for Avelyn, made her mother sign a contract that said she would never try to see her daughter again, and she couldn’t understand how or why the girl was getting fatter and fatter at such an alarming rate. There was no way it could have been hereditary, because she had researched the girl’s family before making the decision. Alas, when the school’s psychotherapist came with no explanation or solution, the headmistress decided to leave the girl alone. After all, they all knew there were men who preferred curvy women. Avelyn still had a chance to pay the school back for the education she received and make her contribution to the feeble peace between humans and shape-shifters.
But Avelyn was smarter than that. She made sure she didn’t excel at any class she was taking. The Guardians soon came to the conclusion that she had no talents. She couldn’t sing, couldn’t play the piano or the violin, she hated dancing, and she was terrible with words. Her poems were childish, she could never get the measure and content right in a haiku, and her drawing skills were non-existent. Given that she loved to eat so much, they figured that cooking was also an art, so they introduced it as an optional course for all the girls who were interested. It wasn’t optional for Avelyn, but it surely was useless. She always messed up the spices, overcooked the meat, and she couldn’t tell the difference between parsley and dill to save her life. In their attempt to make something of her, anything, the Guardians made Avelyn take more classes than any of the other students. Now, at 24, three months shy of turning 25 and being thrown out of Alma Venus, Avelyn was a decent dancer, an amazing singer with a heavenly voice, an adept of the art of Japanese ink painting, could speak five languages fluently, could play the piano and the cello, cook incredible food, bake delicious cookies, and write fairly good poetry. She could also solve complicated algebra exercises faster than most, and she knew all the classics. And that was because when, at 14, she had decided to make herself as undesirable as possible, she had also decided to take advantage of everything Alma Venus had to offer. No one besides Delyse and Claudia would ever know that, and sure as hell no shifter would enjoy Avelyn’s company. On her 25th birthday she wo
uld refuse the offer to serve in a brothel, say that she’d rather make a living on the streets, and accept her status of society’s pariah. Then, when everyone forgot she existed, she would take out her fake ID, become Joanna Thorne, and flee to Italy. There, she would open her own bakery, rebuild her life, lose some pounds if she felt like it, become the kind of person she’d love inside and out, and then marry some unsuspecting guy with a lovely smile and a kind heart who would enjoy her singing, painting, and cooking for the rest of his life.
That was Avelyn’s plan, and it was perfect.
With a bright smile on her face, Avelyn stepped away from the window and took off her bathrobe. Her hair was almost dry. It was a beautiful spring day outside and she had no intention of spending it in this dark, chilly room. She went to the huge wardrobe she shared with her three roommates and chose a long, flowery dress. She didn’t feel like covering her body in anything else than the light, soft dress, and the idea of bra straps digging deep lines into the creamy skin of her shoulders to keep her heavy breasts up made her shudder. Same thing with the panties. Too much confinement. “Oh no. Today I’m going to enjoy the hot sun and the warm breeze. I’m not even going to move from the lounge chair in the garden.” She grabbed the book she had started reading the day before, “The Shadow of the Wind” by Carlos Ruiz Zafón, and slipped on her bright green flip-flops. She closed the door behind her, crossed the long corridor, and started down the stairs of the majestic building.
Alma Venus hadn’t always been a boarding school for girls. It was old and full of history, and Avelyn sometimes thought that if she pressed her ear to the cold walls, she would hear them whisper of long nights spent in prayer, of fear and war, and then of young students running to their classrooms, heavy course books held tightly against their chests. It hadn’t always been called Alma Venus. When it was founded, somewhere around 590 AD, it was a medieval cathedral school. Later, under King Henry VIII, it became a grammar school, and during the Victorian era it was slowly turned into a public school, as it started taking in students of all social statuses. It didn’t change much until the war between humans and shifters, after which, in 1918, the Delacroix family decided to renovate it, as they did with the entire small town of Myrtle Valley, which they practically owned. Now Alma Venus was one of the best boarding schools in Europe. Shape-shifters from all over the world came here looking for brides, as they knew they would find the best educated young ladies. They were, of course, very expensive, but their unequaled beauty, exquisite manners, and various talents of the most exotic kinds always convinced the rich, influential shifters the brides were worth the money.
Avelyn stepped lightly on the marble floor of the main hall and made a last moment decision to visit the kitchens and grab some snacks that would go well with the sunny afternoon and the gothic romance novel she was determined to finish before dinner. So, she made a right at the bottom of the staircase, followed a long corridor guarded by old paintings on both walls, and reached the kitchens in no time. As most of the students were attending their classes at this hour, the building was deserted. She didn’t bother knocking on the door, and she simply entered the enormous room where three chefs and dozens of cook assistants and maids were running from one table to another, chopping vegetables, cleaning plates, arranging utensils, and chattering loudly.
“Avelyn, you’re skipping classes again,” said Miss Potts instead of “hello”. She was a sturdy lady who baked amazing muffins and absolutely loved Avelyn for her healthy appetite and the appreciation the girl showed for her sweets.
“Yes well, we all know it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Oh, honey. Don’t talk like that. Your Prince Charming might still appear in these three months.”
Avelyn smiled at Miss Potts’ naivety. The middle-aged lady truly believed the treaty between humans and shifters was the best thing that happened in the last century, and that the girls chosen to become shifter brides were privileged. However, Avelyn couldn’t hold that against the adorable Miss Potts, who was in more ways than one like an innocent child, and who had already grabbed a box where she proceeded to stuff chocolate chips from last evening, strawberry muffins left from breakfast, as well as hot cinnamon rolls she had just started baking for dinner. Like every other day, Avelyn left the kitchens through the back door, box full of goodies in hand, and headed for her favorite spot in the garden.
Ͻ
The moment she stepped off the rock pavement which surrounded the school building, Avelyn took off her flip-flops and closed her eyes for a few seconds, shoes in hand, her face turned towards the sun, and enjoyed the feeling of slightly wet grass beneath her bare feet. As she was soaking in the warmth, breathing in the cool air and reveling in the soft brush of the morning breeze against her skin, Avelyn had the odd sensation that something was wrong. She stayed like that for a long minute, trying to prolong the feeling of peace and contentment, but the spell was broken. There was something there, in the air, in the shuffling of the tree branches, something that told her the moment didn’t belong to her alone. Her stomach twisted with the realization that she was being watched. Avelyn snapped her eyes open and turned her head to the left side of the school. Her instinct hadn’t failed her because there he was, a tall, handsome man with a strong physique. He was dressed casually, blue jeans and a checkered vest over a white shirt that fit perfectly over his broad chest. He was too far away for Avelyn to see his eyes, but she did notice how the faint wind was playing through his longish black hair. A neatly trimmed beard covered his strong, square jaw. At the sight of him, her heart started beating like the wings of a trapped dove, and when he took a small step towards her, Avelyn took a step back.
She tried to calm her breathing. “What’s wrong with you,” she thought. “There’s nothing to worry about. He’s just a guy exploring the grounds. They do that sometimes.” Except, they didn’t fix her with a penetrating gaze and gave her the impression that she was naked and vulnerable. He kept approaching, and she was soon able to study his posture, the confidence with which he walked, and then the sun reflected in his dark eyes and she saw the spark of green. “A wolf.” She exhaled softly, and her heart beats slowed down to a normal rate. She stood her ground, although she had no idea why she had been ready to bolt as if that could have helped in any way. She even managed to greet him with a smile.
The mysterious man smiled back. “I’m sorry I startled you.”
“Startled me?” Avelyn’s eyebrows rose in fake surprise. “Oh no, sir, you’re mistaken. I thought I heard a squirrel shuffling through the bushes and I wanted to catch a glimpse of it.”
He raised an accusatory finger at her, his other hand in his back pocket. “See now, you’re lying.”
Avelyn’s smile was frozen on her lips because the werewolf was now casually leaning towards her and she could smell his cologne, an arousing mix of musk and sandalwood with a fresh top note that she couldn’t quite identify. Mandarin? Grapefruit? She struggled to keep her mind clear.
“I think I interrupted your exploration of Alma Venus, and for that I apologize.”
With a small, respectful bow of her head, Avelyn turned and resumed walking towards the lounge chair that was waiting for her under an old lime tree. She left him there, standing awkwardly, unable to come up with anything clever to regain her attention. She loved the feeling of power this little game gave her. She made a show of ignoring his presence as she placed her flip-flops at the foot of her chair and then lay down, book in hand and box of sweets carefully balanced on one of her knees.
“You haven’t told me your name,” he raised his voice a notch to cover the distance between them.
“Don’t bother with my name, sir. I’m not the one you’re looking for.”
The harsh comment threw him off guard, and at that moment he had no idea what she meant by it.
“Well then, I guess I’ll have to browse the catalog for your beautiful eyes and unruly hair.”
“You won’t find me.”
Avelyn gave him a mischievous smile and returned to her book. She could feel his eyes on her, studying her profile, traveling down the length of her body. She couldn’t know what he was looking at, but that didn’t stop her from imagining that his gaze was first fixed on her lips (she bit them lightly), and then moved on to her neck, shoulders, and her hard nipples which were poking the thin dress covering them. She felt a strange tingling in her toes, and the sudden urge to raise her eyes back to his handsome face took her by surprise. Some moments before she had felt like a deer caught in the headlights, and she wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was that feeling that he had invaded her personal space by observing her while she was enjoying a moment of solitude. She cursed herself for not paying attention to her surroundings.
Despite her desire to look at him again, she held her impulse under control and turned a page in her book. After he had left, she would have to turn the page back and actually read it, but right now she had no intention of letting him know that she might be interested. Of all the shifters she could have ever felt attracted to, it had to be a wolf. These wild, powerful creatures were the faction that had the strongest desire to conquer and control. Avelyn would have never accepted to let herself dominated by such a brute, no matter how charming and harmless he seemed at first glance. She knew behind that display of grace and good manners, there was a well-hidden craving to break and control the weak and the helpless. The moment she had first seen him staring at her from across the yard, Avelyn had remembered Miss Potts’ words and she had been frightened that, indeed, these three months might still be enough to take her freedom away. Then, she saw his eyes and realized he was a werewolf. The chances that he would want her for an interview were close to none. For a second, that made her sad. Yes, she would do her best to blow the interview, but at least she would get to see him again from up close without betraying her unorthodox thoughts. “Damn me for having a soft spot for hot dark-haired men with sexy beards.”