“I’m sorry, I will be much better when I have run. Rest now so I can run, alright?”
She swallowed hard and nodded, even though she did not want him to be better. Her eyes madly searched his until he turned from her and disappeared down the hall, leaving her to sort out what had just happened. When she eventually fell into the bed situated opposite the window, she discovered the sleep she so desperately wanted before had suddenly become evasive.
Chapter 14 - Choice
She dreamt of Tyson’s fingers running through her hair. Not even the sweet, heavenly, buttery scent that drifted into her room when she woke helped ease the fact that it wasn’t true. She slipped from bed and stumbled to keep from stepping on Mesha, who was curled up on the floor at the foot of the frame. She maneuvered carefully to avoid waking her, knowing how tired she would be after staying out with the moon all night.
Stripped of her possessions, she was left with little choice but to raid the drawers. They were stocked with men’s clothing, just as Tyson said. She was able to find a pair of drawstring sweatpants and a tee that somewhat fit. Her process of dressing was broken only when she stopped to admire the three, striking pink roses in a vase on the dresser drawers. Her heart felt lighter when she followed the smell of pancakes to the cozy kitchen tucked behind the wall of the front room. Still groggy and trying to forget her dream, she rounded the entry to the kitchen, only to stop short in surprise.
Standing at the stove was not Dawn, but Tyson. Dawn was not even in sight, nor were any of the others. In all her time with the pack, Dawn had always been the one to prepare meals. Tyson held the handle of a frying pan and patted the top of a pancake with a spatula. He wore loose fitting pajama bottoms and a plain, cotton shirt. She could not recall ever seeing him wearing anything but denim pants and form fitting tops. The casual setting helped humanize him and she chewed her tongue in order to keep from gawking.
“Good morning, Clara,” he said without looking up. She immediately pushed her hair back, wishing she’d taken the time to pull it up.
“Good morning,” she replied.
He flipped the pancake onto a plate and handed it to her. “Specially made,” he said with a smile.
“Thank you,” she replied with a smile of her own.
He grabbed his plate, which had a few additional items, and crossed the threshold to a dinette just beyond the other end of the kitchen. It sat under a sunny window framed with yellow curtains. Outside, the day had all but forgotten the storm of the night before. “Care to join me?” he asked and held the chair for her when she sat, causing her cheeks to burn.
“I didn’t know you could cook,” she said and reached for the syrup. There were also tall glasses of orange juice and a bowl of chopped, mixed fruit for Clara.
“Dawn graciously volunteered to pick up anything extra we may need at the store and left when the moon set. She’s already been to a local market to get us this food, so I thought I might fill in this once.” He jabbed a bit of egg on the end of his fork and began eating. “I’m surprised your brother has not been drawn from his rest by the smell of sausage.” He gestured toward another plate with several pancakes on it.
“He did come back, didn’t he?” she asked.
“Of course, he fell asleep on the couch. It’s getting a bit tougher to come back, especially for a pup.”
“Why?” she asked with a puzzled expression. Tyson laughed.
“Have you forgotten already? The moon will be full in two nights.”
“Oh,” she said, relieved. “I thought you meant he might up and decide to never come back one of these times.”
“He will always return,” he said assuredly. “It may just take him a few nights when the moon is full.”
“It’s been a month since I…” she let the sentence trail off and prodded some fruit with her fork.
“Since you joined us? Indeed it has. A very exciting month.”
“That’s putting it kindly, but it beats cleaning up after kenneled dogs at any rate.”
He laughed and nodded. “After the full moon has shown her face, I thought I might go in search of Jothram,” he said the words quietly, watching her face.
“Just you?” she asked disappointedly.
“I’m afraid so, that’s why I’m waiting until after the full moon. The others will stand guard while I am gone and they cannot do so when they are drawn away.”
She twisted her fork between two fingers. “I can’t go with you?”
“Not this time,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’m hoping Jothram can be persuaded to return with me.”
“Do you think he will?”
“I will do my best. Obviously, I can’t say for sure.”
The familiar zing of eagerness shot through her heart. She was impatient to meet Jothram, to prove to Tyson that she did not love another man. This time, she knew she had to come in contact with him. If fate had any role in her life, she would meet Jothram in a few days time. Her heart fluttered at the idea and she lowered her eyes to the ivory colored lace tablecloth. “He will. He’s got to.”
“You really are sure, aren’t you?” Tyson asked and paused in his eating. “Isn’t there a small part of you that wonders if you could love him?”
“No,” she answered simply and dipped a piece of banana in the syrup that had pooled under what remained of her pancake.
“You haven’t even asked how old he looks. Aren’t you curious?”
Truthfully, she never stopped to ponder the physical features Jothram might possess, but the idea piqued her interest. “How old does he look?” she asked.
“Ha!” Tyson laughed. “I knew you would be curious. Would you change your mind about possibly loving him if I told you he is incredibly young and handsome looking?”
She knew by the glint in his eye that he was teasing her and she laughed to cover her nerves.
“Who is incredibly handsome?” Callan asked suspiciously, suddenly appearing at the edge of the table. “Are you two talking about me?”
“Yes, Callan. We are always talking about you,” Tyson said sarcastically. Callan’s eyes were already on the plate set for him and he’d forgotten their conversation. “Those are for you, if you’re wondering. There are eggs and sausages on the stove as well.”
“Wow, Ty, thanks! I didn’t think I would get anything to eat until Dawn came back.” Callan went to retrieve his share of the eggs and meat. He could be heard scraping the pan with a wooden spoon.
“How old was he?” she asked as she poked at her pancake. “When the curse was placed on him?”
“Seventy-three.”
His answer came so readily she wasn’t sure he was teasing after all.
The nearest shopping centers must have been some distance away, because Dawn did not return until well after lunch time had come and gone. Jack and Mesha had surfaced and had eaten their fill of breakfast by then. Clara was so pleased to receive something more feminine to wear than sweats and tees that she thanked Dawn several times in succession then hurried to change.
In addition to the clothing, Dawn purchased several new movies and books, as the little house had scarcely anything in the way of entertainment. Of course, the others were not interested in such things then. It became more and more difficult for them to stay in the house, even in the daylight hours. Every hour that brought them closer to the night of the full moon had them more on edge and agitated. Mesha snapped at Callan several times until Tyson finally sent both of them out of the house. Neither was thrilled, but did as instructed.
Tyson was the only one who could stay with her that night, but he didn’t handle it well. Clara went to bed early to give him what peace she could. The next day he was a mess and had acquired dark circles under his eyes. She was eating a bowl of cold cereal when he shuffled into the kitchen. The agitation that had vanished since they stepped off the plane in Townsville was back double fold. He leaned over the counter, grabbing a glass from the dish drainer. The thing smashed to pieces and he
growled a string of curses she could not translate. He swept the glass into the trash and tried again, finally managing to drink some water.
“Is everything okay?” she asked when he joined her at the table.
“No,” he grumbled and she was reminded of the Tyson she’d first met, the one fighting the glow of the full moon to keep from scaring her.
“Isn’t there anything that can help you?”
“Besides silver? No.”
“I’m sorry,” she said and returned her attention to her bowl, absently stirring the contents.
“It’s fine…or, it will be. Listen, I won’t be able to stay here tonight, which means no one will be here. I will try to keep in sight of the house as I did before.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she said.
“I do,” he answered and massaged the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. She reached across the little table and touched his other hand that rested on the pale blue tablecloth.
“You don’t, there is another solution.”
“What do you have in mind?” he asked.
“Why don’t you take me with you?”
He sat back in his chair, studying her. “It’s too risky.”
“It isn’t,” she disagreed. “You could leave early in the day when you are in control. I will stay with you and you will be used to my presence. I can be your personal parasite for the night.”
A hint of a grin escaped his somber mood. “What if your body can’t endure to ride that long?”
“I can! Don’t you remember how far we went the first time I rode? Besides, I don’t feel anything until after I have gotten off. My legs are numb until then.”
He studied her as he pondered the idea. He glanced to a clock on the wall then to her attire. “You will have to wear something warm.”
Her green eyes brightened and she nodded happily. “I will!”
“You actually enjoy riding with us,” he said with a laugh as the realization dawned on him.
“Of course I do,” she replied.
“You don’t mind the stink of wolf?”
She scowled and tried to remember ever smelling a stink. “Wolves stink?”
He laughed shortly and shook his head. “The moon rises at six-fifteen, so we’d better leave at four, just to be safe.”
“When does the moon set?”
“Not until five in the morning. Are you sure you want to do this?”
She nodded eagerly, never more sure of anything in her life.
At four sharp, she was ready. Tyson greeted her in front of the house where the rest of the pack waited as well. Jack, she guessed, was the brown, scraggly looking wolf and Dawn the reddish gold, sleek one. Tyson pressed his nose into her palm when she hesitated, remembering the onslaught of voices that encumbered her when they were all together before.
“Are you ready to ride, wolf girl?” he asked and his was the only voice she could hear, but she could sense the sharp edged excitement that lingered among the rest.
“Wolf girl?” she asked with a laugh. “I’m ready if you are.”
He crouched down and she situated herself as she always did when riding. At first the pack was relatively calm and didn’t break into a vision distorting run as she thought they probably would. Instead, they paced through the steppe, sticking to what trees and shrub the sparse land offered. There was no sign of other beings living anywhere near Tyson’s small home and they wandered freely, if not cautiously.
As the sun began to sink and evening approached, the excitement she sensed in them intensified and spilled into her emotions. A dusky, rosy-purple hue painted the horizon when the moon finally dared peek over the edge of the land. She could feel their hair standing on end and their muscles tensing in wonderful, dreaded anticipation. Words were lost to them as they waited for the pale face of their heart’s desire to fully show herself. When the final curve left the horizon, they shuddered in unison as they suppressed the want to howl. Clara shuddered with them, wondering why they suppressed the enticing music she heard in their minds and longed to hear on the wind.
Callan snorted and panted, shaking his head as he tried to ignore the words to the moon’s song. His chest shuddered when he threw back his head and let out a long, drawn out howl. The haunting sound carried through the clear night until Tyson snarled and nipped at Callan’s backside, breaking the enchantment.
“Why can’t you sing?” she whispered in his ear.
“We don’t want to draw attention from other werewolves that might hear,” he answered, making an effort to clear his mind long enough to do so.
“Run!” Callan’s voice shot through their thoughts and the rest agreed with such eagerness that their words blared through Tyson’s mind.
“Yes!”
“Yes!”
“Run!”
Their desire to run under the fair face of their seductress was stronger than she could have even begun to guess. They wanted to feel every bit of the light radiating from the luminescent orb. They wanted to catch every ray, every beam on their backs, to taste the light in their mouths, to drink of water that reflected the moon’s glory. It was a race against time and they waited for Tyson’s permission to begin.
Below her, his body tensed until she thought she might confuse him for stone if she weren’t clinging to his neck. He shot off, a shadow in the night, and the rest were on his heels. They ran faster than she could comprehend and she clung tightly to Tyson, squeezing her eyes shut all the while. She buried her face in his dense, soft fur, but she did not miss out. Every swelling emotion they felt was echoed through Tyson and she could feel their unified joy—a joy so strong it threatened to rupture his great heart. The exhilaration behind their burst of speed and strength was unparalleled and she reveled in it until the night died away.
The sun came to steal the moon’s glory, forcing her to hide her face in shame. Vibrant pink colors hid the moon’s final parting kiss and, just like that, the romp was over. Tyson led them back and she sensed how exhausted they’d become with the sudden departure of their moon.
They reached the house and her energy drained as well. She’d clung so desperately to Tyson that her arms and legs had become like ice. When she rolled off his back and stood, all she could feel was bone grinding against bone until shards of pain reminded her there was life after all. She did not protest when Tyson offered to carry her. In fact, she pressed closer to him. He dropped her to her feet at her door.
“Now you know,” he said, but she was not sure which thing he meant, for she had learned much that night.
“Know what?”
“Why Jothram will come. Just as we cannot resist the moon, he cannot resist you.”
Tears came into her eyes. Their wild, untamed emotions were fresh in her still, and she could not fathom being compared to the excruciating beauty of the moon. Tyson smiled sadly and wiped her tears with his thumbs. “You are not a wolf girl, are you? You are a moon girl.”
He took her face in his hands and pressed his forehead to hers until they touched noses. She was sure he was going to finally do what he continuously threatened and kiss her. Just this once, she pleaded in her mind and moved to stand on tiptoe to better reach his lips. He took a shuddering breath and released her, stepping back.
“It’s time to sleep, Moon Girl,” he whispered then vanished from her, leaving her feeling cold. She shivered and kicked off her shoes to crawl under the bedclothes.
The blazing hot sun hit her square in the face many hours later. It was late afternoon and the day seemed to be scolding jealously after her late rendezvous with the night. Her heart ached at the memory of Tyson’s touch as she fought with herself about whether or not she should get out of bed. She gasped in shock when she finally threw the covers off and found not only Mesha curled up on the floor next to her bed, but Callan as well. She touched their shoulders in turn and Mesha blinked sleepily awake.
“You cannot sleep on the floor,” she said.
Mesha huffed and
jumped to her feet. Callan hadn’t responded to Clara’s touch and Mesha had to push him. “What are you doing in here? This is a girl’s room!”
He yawned and sat up to rest his back against the frame of the bed. “This is not a girl’s room. It’s my sister’s room.”
“Neither one of you should be sleeping on the floor like that,” Clara pointed out, choosing to ignore her brother’s jab. “If you insist on doing so, you better drag some mattresses in or something.”
“Nah, we’re alright, sis,” Callan said with a wave of his hand.
“I feel silly waking up to find people sleeping on my floor when I enjoyed a nice rest in my bed.”
“I just came to check on you,” Callan said. Clara glanced to her dresser. The flowers from the day before had been swapped with fresh ones.
“I came to check on you first,” Mesha said.
“I won’t deny that,” Callan agreed with a nod. “She was snoring in here long before I came.”
Mesha gasped, “I do not snore!”
Callan smiled triumphantly and rested his elbows on his knees. “Yes you do. Clara, tell her.”
“No,” Clara said and went to the closet. “Don’t drag me in the middle of this.”
“Do I really snore?” Mesha asked her with a horrified expression.
“Of course not. He used to tell me the same thing just to get under my skin.”
Callan got lazily to his feet. “It makes sense you wouldn’t notice, sis, because you really do snore.”
“If our snoring offends you so much, why did you stay?” Mesha grumbled under her breath.
“I never said I minded.” He strode to the door. Mesha watched him from her somber, yellow eyes that wore a scowl. “I guess I’ll see you downstairs,” he said as way of parting. Mesha kept her scowl until she was sure he wouldn’t return, but her eyes softened and lingered on the door a moment more than they should. Clara turned quickly to mask a smile that spread over her face.
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