by L. C. Davis
“If I'm boring you-”
“N-no. Please, continue. It's just unsettling.”
He turned the page. “Unable to bear the loss of his son without retribution, the Sun reasoned with the earth. She would not allow him to exact his revenge upon his lover, nor to reclaim the soul that now belonged to her, but she did allow blood unjustly spilled and flesh torn with treachery to return.
The abomination that rose from the earth was not the fallen king, but an enemy of the children of night for all time until their ranks should be no more. The sun felt his lover had betrayed him, and her punishment would be complete separation from him as well as the rise of a race that would slay her children mercilessly from that moment on until she grew too weary of her grief to remain within his orbit at all.”
“A hunter,” I breathed. I didn't think my voice was audible, but it was easy to forget that you lived with a bunch of supernatural creatures.
“Yes. The hunter pursued the brothers ruthlessly. He possessed the cunning and blood lust of the vampire as well as the endless determination and pack loyalty of the werewolf. He was weaker than both, but capable with any weapon that came into his hands and resourceful in the wild. He was also gifted with a specialized weapon that was capable of sending any supernatural into the aether upon contact. It was a small blade, no longer than his hand, but its power was immense as it was created from the calcified tears of the Sun himself. The countermeasure to a weapon of such power was that it could also be used to slay the Sun in human form. Thus, the first hunter chose to hide the blade in a place where it was only to be found when his revenge was to be completed. Instead, he took to slaying the beasts of night through his own means.
When the moon saw what had happened, she looked upon her favored children in anguish. She took pity upon them, particularly the werewolf, for although the wolves fangs had known the taste of more flesh, his was a crime of love and the vampire's one of deceit and envy.
Many of the moon's children were killed by the hunter, but she could not bear to see her favorites wiped from existence. She promised them that as long as her light shone in the sky, her husband would never put an end to them completely. To the wolf, she offered the Amulet of Aeternus, which made him fast enough to outrun the hunter, quick to heal, and gave him the ability to shift from his true form into the shape of man when his paws grew too weary to run any longer.
Her favor did not leave him bereft of weakness. The moon decided that his flesh would heal rapidly against all types of wounds, except those caused by silver. Silver driven into the center of his heart would end his life and send him to the hunting grounds below the earth. He was also cursed to take his true form each time the moon was full, lest he get too accustomed to mortal life and forget the carnage he had wrought.
All of these the wolf could bear with dignity, but her final punishment seemed too cruel. Rather than accept it, the wolf begged his mother to slay him in the field where he stood. She refused. Reaching down from her perch in the heavens, the Moon plucked her favored son's heart from his chest and held it in her palm. She saw that it beat only for her and that his devotion to her could be used against him once again, so she ripped it in two and hid one half in a mortal. For the rest of his days, until he found the mortal who held the other half of his heart, he would be forced to suffer in isolation, knowing he was only half himself. It would serve as both a punishment and a way to ensure that he would no longer allow his devotion into carelessness.
To the vampire, our Lady was not so kind. She recognized that he was the cause of all suffering that had gone on that day, and swore that he would pay for his sins until she could stand to look upon him no more. To him, she gave a painful aversion to the sun so that he could only prey upon men when their hearts were quiet. Standing in direct defiance to her lover would cause him to desiccate. His fangs would always remain visible. If he tried to rip them out, they would grow back in by the next day. He would never again know a night of rest and replenishment. He would be nearly indestructible against all manner of weapons, but a single stake would end his wretched days.
Her pity towards her most treacherous child was limited, but she was merciful. To him, she gave no amulet but rather a flask of his brother's blood. Even if he had been staked through the heart, the blood of the wolf would bring him back and restore his strength to greater than what it had been. The moon looked down upon her son and realized that his folly was the opposite of his brother's. To the wolf, she had given an excess of heart. To the vampire, she had given an excess of ego.
To remedy the matter, she reached inside his mind and planted a grain of weakness. To the vampire, she would guarantee no other half with which to share the many burdens of life. Instead, whenever he expected it, even at the most inopportune moment, he would meet his greatest weakness. The very creature who would threaten to render meaningless all he had spent his life working for – his riches, his intellect, his reputation and his vices – would become the very center of his universe.
The vampire left in a rage, determined that he would surely drain his mate of blood before they had a chance to threaten his empire. The werewolf remained, looking mournfully up at his mother. He knew it would be the last time they spoke face-to-face, and he recoiled at the idea of never seeing her again.
Her rays stroked his fur for the last time and she gave him a parting kiss. She assured him that he would soon forget the days when her light chased him through a canopy of trees as they ran through the forest. Fearing that her punishment was too harsh, she promised that if he visited her priest, he would receive guidance in the form of a vision of his lover and the personal seal that must be used to claim them.
When the harvest moon hung low, the bonded pair could return to nature and rejoice in her as one. Then, in perfect union with his other half, he would have all the closeness with her that he desired.
The moon's final promise to her most beloved children was that one day, after millennia of division and bloodshed between he and his traitorous brother, the kingdoms of the Sun and Moon, would be united by a descendant from both their lines. This perfect union was the proof the Sun required that the children of night were capable of conducting themselves peacefully and returning to the light with their mortal brethren. When the last child of the night was finally united with his true mate, and the two howled at the autumn moon as one, She would hear their cry and know that she could finally return to her rightful place beside her lover.
22
Ulric closed the book unceremoniously and set it aside. “There's more, but those are the relevant scriptures. I'm sure the little one could recite them by heart.”
I took a deep breath and leaned back in my chair. “Well, I can definitely see why Victor doesn't believe any of that.”
Sebastian grumbled something unintelligible under his breath.
“But I don't really see how it helps in our current situation,” I admitted.
“Maybe it doesn't,” said Ulric. “But it is the origin of the soulmate legend, which you happen to be living right now.”
“How much of this carries over to today, though?” I looked at Sebastian. “Did you go to a priest?”
“We all do,” he replied. “Male or female, all wolves go to the Lunar Temple for a coming-of-age ceremony once they hit twelve. Since I was a boy, it's been a rite of passage and little more. I'll spare you the boring details, but you enter the temple, pay an offering of respect to the Lady, and all the young ones take turns drinking from a bowl of liquid silver.”
“Liquid silver?” I asked, incredulous. “I thought silver was kind of like werewolf kryptonite.”
He chuckled. “It is. That's part of the ritual. The sacrifice proves the initiate's worthiness. The silver itself acts as a hallucinogenic when taken in a large enough dose, and it can't kill us if it's not going directly into the heart. That much of the legend is true.”
“So you drink silver, hallucinate, and see your future soulmate?”
He s
hrugged. “All I saw for mine was a blur. You'd be better off to ask him.” He pointed to Sebastian.
Sebastian, who'd been silent through most of Ulric's story, leaned back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the chair. “You sure you wanna know now?”
I hesitated. I wasn't sure, but for a different reason. I wanted to believe Sebastian really was my soulmate now, more than anything. Victor had succeeded in bringing back a lot of my repressed memories, but a lot was still missing. What if I didn't remember him?
“I saw you. You were a lot younger, maybe five or so, but it was definitely you. I was in this room, it was really plain and gray and old. There was just a mattress on the floor, and you were sitting on it with your legs pulled up to your chest, crying.
“I walked over to ask you what was wrong. I had already forgotten why I was there. All I knew was that I was willing to do whatever it took to make sure you never cried like that ever again. You finally noticed me and tried to hide. I could see there were bruises all over your arms when you covered your face.”
He was gripping the wooden arm of his chair so hard it started to make a straining sound. His chin rested on his fist, obscuring his mouth. His hair was shielding his eyes, but I could tell he was struggling with his temper.
“Does any of this sound familiar?” asked Ulric.
I shook my head regretfully. “The room does. That was definitely one of my foster homes. I think I would have been around five.” That was something.
It wasn't enough for Sebastian. “You really don't remember?” His gaze searched mine pleadingly. “I sat down in front of you and stroked your hair. It was barely past your chin then. You were wearing a pair of dirty yellow overalls and a T-shirt even though it felt like it was barely thirty degrees in that room. I put my coat over you to keep you warm and told you everything was going to be okay.”
My head started to swim for the first time in over a week. “I'm sorry, Sebastian, I-”
He stood up suddenly. “He needs Victor,” he muttered. “These memories. I can't get through like he can.”
It began to set in what a painful admission that was for him to make.
“I concur,” said Ulric, standing as well. “I was just hoping you'd come to the same conclusion.”
I felt like I'd done something wrong, even though I knew that wasn't what he was getting at.
While we were already on the subject of Victor, I decided trying my hand at getting Ulric on my side. I had hoped I could talk to him alone, but everything was moving so quickly it didn't seem likely to happen.
“Can he at least be moved to one of the rooms on the other side of the Lodge?” I pleaded. There were several for guests who had had a bit too much to drink, or a session too extreme to allow immediate travel. “Maybe the problem isn't me. Maybe he's too stressed out from being locked up to-”
“No,” Sebastian snarled.
“It's not a bad idea,” said Ulric.
“It's a good idea for someone with Stockholm Syndrome,” he growled, gesturing to me. “If I had it my way, he wouldn't be around him at all. Hell, maybe he shouldn't be. I'd rather fly him to Australia than subject him to this any more.”
“I already asked Amaru,” he admitted. “He said it's better for him to stay with Victor since they have a,” he hesitated before he continued, “connection.”
That vein started to appear near Sebastian's temple again.
“Please,” I said, standing in front of him. “Just one more session.”
“What kind of session are you talking about?” he asked dangerously. “The kind where he's digging around in your mind, or the kind where you're on your knees, calling him master?”
I flinched. “I'm sorry. He shouldn't have shown you that.”
“Of course he did. He delights in throwing his every conquest in my face.”
His words stung. “Is that what I am? That's what last night was to you?”
“What? No, of course not,” he muttered. “You know that's not what I meant.”
“I don't know, Sebastian. You keep saying Victor is the one who doesn't respect me, but at least he never made me feel like a pawn in your sibling rivalry.”
“Children, please,” Ulric groaned, reminding me of his presence. “This is hardly the time. Fight all you want after the full moon, but until then, you need to be as united as possible. Unfortunately for you, Sebastian, that includes working with your brother. Is that something you can handle?” It was a challenge more than a question.
He clenched his jaw. “He gets thirty minutes, not a second more,” he said before stalking from the room.
I sighed, rubbing my freshly aching head. “I'm sorry about that.”
“Don't be. You're both under an inordinate amount of stress and the full moon always has tensions running high around here. Especially in your, ah, condition.”
I gave him a strange look. “My condition?”
“Oh. I was hoping Victor had explained it. Well, around the full moon your kind of wolf gets, ah-” He scratched his head. “Didn't I explain this earlier?”
I shook my head, confused. “No, Sir. I don't think so.”
He hesitated for another moment before clapping his large hands over my shoulder. “Tell you what, go ask Clara about it later. She's much better at explaining this sort of thing.”
I wanted to ask what “this sort of thing” was, but he didn't give me the chance.
“Come along, my boy. We should get to Victor before your mate does.”
I followed him, realizing that this time alone was precious. I struggled for how to ask the most pressing question on my mind and decided to just come out with it.
“What's in those injections I've been taking?”
He didn't look at me, but I could tell my question had startled him. “I told you, it's a serum to help ease the side effects from your mental blocks.”
“You told me what it does, not what it is.”
He sighed. “I'm afraid I can't do that.”
“Why?”
He glanced at me as we headed down the stairs. “What happened to the milktoast little thing I met a few weeks ago?”
“Blame it on the full moon,” I said with a grin.
He snorted. “Well, Victor's sessions are working at least a bit if you're able to joke about being a wolf.”
“I'm trying to cope by finding humor in it,” I admitted.
“Aren't we all?” He swung the door open at the bottom of the stairs and waited for me to pass through. I had noticed that it was an unspoken rule in the Lodge that the apparently weaker members of the pack were treated with chivalry, even from the Alpha. I'd rarely seen Clara, myself, or even Foster touch a door since I'd been there.
I stepped into the dungeon. I knew its layout by heart by then, at least up to the basement cell where Victor was being held. As we walked towards the stairs, Clarence came out with his arm draped around a very shaken looking Foster. He was sniffling and didn't seem to notice us. My first thought was that Clarence had hurt him, but the older wolf was being so gentle with him that I doubted it. He leaned down and affectionately whispered something in the boy's ear. As they passed, I could see Foster's face brighten as he nodded eagerly in response to whatever Clarence had said.
“Is he okay?” I whispered to Ulric as he hit the down button on the elevator that ran up and down all three floors in the dungeon.
“Oh, yes. Foster is a special case. Let's just say he has certain psychological needs that Clarence and Brendan see to.”
“Oh. That's nice, I think.”
He gave short laugh as the elevator began to lower us into the basement. “You don't seem to, uh, get involved with peoples... needs,” I said, choosing my words carefully. It didn't feel careful enough once they were out of my mouth.”
“I'm old,” he said without follow-up.
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “You can't be far past your mid-forties. Maverick's Master is a lot older and he does fine.”
�
��Why exactly are you concerned with me love life?” he sighed.
I shrugged. “I guess I just don't understand why someone like you is single.”
He looked at me warily, then pressed the stop button. The elevator ground to a halt.
“Whoa,” I said, staggering before I managed to grab the railing. “What was that for?”
When I looked at Ulric, I couldn't hide my shock. The Alpha looked... flustered.
“As flattering as that may be, believe me when I say I'm more than old enough to be your father and-”
“Oh gosh, no,” I interrupted. “N-no, I'm sorry, that's not what I meant. At all.” The idea made me nauseous. It wasn't that there was anything gross about him. He was incredibly good looking for a man of any age, which had never really been a factor for me. There was just something repellant about the idea.
“Ah. My apologies, then,” he said, allowing the elevator to continue its descent. He took off his glasses and started polishing them with a cloth from his pocket in a woefully obvious attempt at distraction. “Let's pretend that never happened, hm?”
I nodded eagerly. “Please.”
“And in answer to your question, I suppose it's the curse of the Alpha. Always on the outside, tending to the needs of the pack without ever really being part of it. Not that I'd want to. I see them all as my children, in a sense.” He sighed, staring off for a moment with a wistful look I couldn't quite understand. “The nature of this place makes it all the more important not to blur the lines.”
“That makes sense,” I murmured. His words set an unsettling thought into motion. Sebastian seemed destined to become Alpha. I knew so little about the pack, yet even I could tell he was made for the role. What would that mean for us?
The story of the werewolf's unbridled devotion weight heavily on my mind. What if being with me made it impossible for him to focus on the pack?