by Cara Wylde
Max pressed a warm, lingering kiss to her forehead. “I’ll tell you everything, my love. Everything. I’ll make it all better.”
She sighed and let her mind drop back into sweet unconsciousness.
END OF BOOK THREE
CHAPTER ONE
Future Uncertain
Never in her life had Avelyn felt so tired. She was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to make sense of what had happened in the last 12 hours. The wound on her neck throbbed softly, sending jolts of pain through the entire left side of her body. She preferred not to move her left arm at all, so it was limp on the covers while she used the other one to gently massage her forehead. The headache was slowly subsiding thanks to the pills the doctor had made her swallow before leaving the room. The curtains filtered the shy sunrays, and the windows muffled the sound of the howling wind. Even though it was rather sunny outside, the wind blew sharply through the branches and hit the tall towers of the Schloss with all its might. Aside from that, the castle was eerily silent. Avelyn sighed and tried to change her position only to cringe at the sharp pain that started in her left shoulder and made its way straight to her temple.
“Bloody hell,” she muttered. She gave up and stood still. A door slammed somewhere down the corridor, and Avelyn’s eyes turned to the bedroom door, ears perked up in attention, her heart rate increasing. She hoped someone would come already and tell her what the doctor had said. He had left the room 15 minutes ago. After half an hour of tending to her wound and consulting her, poking and prodding to make sure there was nothing broken or severely damaged, he had simply smiled at her and told her she was going to be fine. Avelyn would have loved to grab him by the collar and yell at him to forget the platitudes and tell her exactly what he thought. Luckily for him, she was in too much pain. All she could do was whisper a question: “Don’t lie to me doctor. What is going on?”
She knew what the werewolf venom was going to do to her body. The process wasn’t evident yet, but she would soon feel the changes. However, she had a sinking feeling that the small crease of worry and concentration on the doctor’s forehead was a reaction to something else. Sure, the transformation process she’d have to go through for an entire month, until the next full moon, wasn’t going to be easy or pleasant, but it wasn’t dangerous to her either. Somewhere between the gatehouse and the heavy door of the Crescent Wing, Avelyn had come to terms with what was waiting ahead. Max had carried her back to the Schloss gently, cradling her broken body in his arms, and Avelyn had snuggled against his chest, trying to focus on the warmth of his body and ignore the pain and the smell of fresh blood. Crossing the courtyard, she had seen the ashes of the bonfire and the curious eyes of the few werewolves who hadn’t gone to chase after Sabine. The dim light of dawn shined on their soft fur, enveloping them in an aura of magic. Or, maybe, she was hallucinating. Her tired eyes took in their proud posture, their heavy bodies and strong legs, and their green, kind eyes. In one month, she was going to be one of them. Truly be one of them. There was no doubt about it, and no way out. She would become a werewolf, and she had realized then that she was ready to accept her fate. She had looked up at Max and smiled. As long as she was with him, it wouldn’t be too bad, would it?
But, there had been a flicker of worry in the doctor’s eyes right before he caught himself, cleared his throat and gave her a reassuring smile. “The wound is healing quickly, as it should,” he had offered as an answer to her question. Avelyn had already known that. She could feel it. That was not what she had wanted from him. She had tried to stand up, determined to make him talk. “No, no, Miss Avelyn. Bad idea.” He had pushed her gently back under the covers and rearranged her pillow. “I’m going to give you some painkillers for now, to make things easier for you until the wound heals completely, then I’ll let you rest.” She had protested, but he had been firm and distant. She hadn’t been able to stop him when he left the room, presumably to let Mr. Blackmane know he could see her.
Avelyn’s eyes were now fixed on the door, and she was wondering why it was taking Max so long. There was something wrong, she could feel it. Sabine hadn’t hurt her that badly. She had scared her, yes, and she had ripped a huge patch of skin off her neck, but the bite hadn’t been deep. She had made sure she sank her fangs deep enough to let the venom flow through the open wound, but not so much as to endanger her life. As the girl had said in that mad, hateful voice, she had only wanted to turn Avelyn, not kill her. Then, what had worried the doctor so much? What was so important, so urgent, and… complicated that it took him 15 minutes to tell Max? She threw a quick glance at the clock on the wall. Twenty minutes.
The wait was killing her. Christine and Max had stayed with her until the doctor came, but they had both left the room to give them some space. She hated being alone, not knowing what was happening outside that stupid door, outside the Schloss, in the woods. She wondered where Sabine was. What if Max’s and Jocelyn’s wolves found her and brought her back to the castle? What would happen to her then? Would Max try to lock her back up in the dungeons? In the light of everything that had happened, Sabine could well be considered a rogue wolf now. Belonging to no pack, running wild in the woods, no one knowing who she was or where she came from… Avelyn shuddered under the thick covers, suddenly feeling cold. She couldn’t think about that. Rogue wolves and the treatment they got when they were caught. Even though Sabine had hurt her, Avelyn couldn’t bring herself to hate her or wish her the slightest harm. She decided she should stop thinking about Sabine and trying to make sense of her actions until she knew the whole story. Max owed her an explanation. “Where is he?” She would have screamed in frustration or called for him or Christine if she had had the energy. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, reminding herself she had to calm down. They would eventually show up to tell her the news, whatever that news was. Of course, it wouldn’t have hurt if they did it before she went crazy with worry.
A soft knock on the door, and Avelyn’s eyes flew open. She cleared her throat, hoping her voice wouldn’t crack.
“Come in!”
Max opened the door slowly and stepped inside, followed close behind by the doctor, Christine, and Jocelyn.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
Jocelyn closed the door and leaned against it, apparently not willing to go farther inside. She studied Avelyn carefully for a few seconds, but didn’t say anything. Christine and the doctor stopped at the foot of the bed, and Max sat down next to Avelyn and caressed her hair.
“I’m better,” she answered. “I think the painkillers are kicking in. What took you so long?” Her eyes scrutinized his face, then she turned to the doctor, who was watching her kindly, his hands hidden deep in the pockets of his coat. He seemed to have gotten ready to leave. “Well? Why the mystery? It’s not like I don’t know what’s going to happen in the next month. Doctor?” What was his name again? She couldn’t remember. “Max?”
Max sighed. “You will turn on the next full moon. The werewolf venom will slowly spread through your blood and start making small changes. In the first few days, it won’t be very obvious or bad. You might experience dizziness, nausea, sensitivity to stimuli. Your senses will sharpen and you’ll suddenly start hearing better, seeing more clearly and at longer distances, and you’ll eventually start moving faster. You’ll have to learn how to handle and control your new speed and strength, but that won’t be a problem. We are all here, by your side, and we’ll help you in any way we can. We’ll try to make the process as easy for you as possible.”
Avelyn squeezed his fingers in her right hand, and smiled up at him. “Thank you.” She looked at the other three in the room, but they were all quiet. “That’s not all, is it?”
Max raised her small hand to his lips and kissed it. “No.”
Avelyn sighed and braced herself for whatever was to come. She couldn’t even try to imagine, because she was completely at a loss. She had no idea what could ever go wrong with a transformation. As unpleasant as it
was going to be, in a month she would be a werewolf. Strong and fast, and perfectly capable to take care of herself. The only downfall was that she’d never be able to have children. Exactly how Sabine had planned it all along.
“Max, if you’re about to tell me that once I turn I will never be able to get pregnant… I already know that. Sabine told me herself.”
“Don’t say her name,” said Jocelyn, her voice as cold as ice. “Just don’t.”
Avelyn jumped when she heard her talk for the first time since she had entered the room. She looked at her, but didn’t say anything. She noticed how Christine had slowly hung her head down.
“I…” she wasn’t sure how to continue. “It doesn’t bother me. I mean… no, that came out wrong, selfish. This is not about me anymore.”
“Avelyn…”
“No, let me finish.” She pulled herself up on the pillow, noticing that her neck and shoulder didn’t hurt as badly as before. She squeezed his hand again and looked into his eyes. “Max, if you’ll have me, as broken and useless as I am right now, I am ready to spend my life with you. There’s no excuse for what I did. You have all treated me so well, and you’ve welcomed me in the clan, and how did I repay you? I tried to run away. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for not trusting you, for lying to you, and for putting all of you in danger with my stupid stunt.”
“Jesus…” sighed Jocelyn, exasperation obvious in her tone. “Just get over it already.”
“Avelyn,” said Max. “It’s my turn now. You’ve nothing to be sorry about. I was the one who lied to you, who didn’t have the courage to tell you the truth. I was so afraid you’d leave that I couldn’t think straight. I should have trusted your judgment and told you about Sabine. You would have understood, I know that now, and none of this would have ever happened. But, listen to me, it’s not that…” his voice cracked. “It’s not that we won’t be able to have children…”
“We? No, no… you can still have children. With another bride. I’d never hold it against you.”
“Avelyn, no. Let me…” He let go of her hand and ran his fingers through his black, disheveled hair. “I can’t. I just can’t. Doctor, please…”
The doctor took a step forward. “Miss Avelyn, I’ve always dreaded giving bad news, but here I am. I’m going to be direct: you’re pregnant.”
A long moment of silence. Avelyn forgot to blink and breathe, and it seemed like everyone in the room had the same problem. It was like they were all caught in a time bubble. Nothing moved. That word, that single word which stopped time, threw it off its axis, made everything which a second ago had seemed real and logical plummet into dark, unforgiving chaos.
“What?” Her own voice sounded weird to her ears. “That’s not… that’s not possible. I… what? Say it again. Say it again, doctor.” Maybe she had heard him wrong. She hoped to God she had heard him wrong. But then, why was everyone so still?
“You’re pregnant, Miss Avelyn. Two weeks pregnant. Normally, it would be hard to tell so early, but, let’s face it. This is not a normal pregnancy. Shape-shifter fetuses develop twice as fast as human fetuses.”
“No…” Avelyn jerked away when Max reached for her hand. She didn’t look at him, but she somehow felt his confusion. She needed time to process the information. She glanced up at Christine, and her blue eyes met the old woman’s green orbs. She wasn’t sure what she saw in them. Sadness? Compassion? “This is not possible. Christine, tell them this can’t be. It’s a mistake, doctor. You’ve made a mistake.”
Max was utterly confused now, and Jocelyn moved away from the door and took a couple of steps towards the bed, eyebrows raised in curiosity.
“What’s Christine have to do with this?” asked Max.
“Everything!” Avelyn almost screamed. She didn’t look away from the old she-wolf, and her stomach sank when Christine gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod.
“Avelyn, baby, come here.” Max was trying to make her lean back on her pillow, seeing that she was now supporting her weight on her left arm. “You’re not feeling well. This was a shock to all of us. When the doctor told me, I couldn’t believe it. I was overjoyed. But… you see… this is not…”
Somewhat tired of all the drama, the doctor decided to get it all over with. He had only accepted this whole family gathering, or whatever it was, because Max Blackmane had babbled something about “no more lies” and “I have to tell her myself”, but he saw now what an unfortunate mistake that had been. He wasn’t an insensitive man by any means, but he liked everything to be straightforward. No drama, no unnecessary delays, especially when it came to bad news. “Miss Avelyn, the real problem is that you will lose the baby the moment you turn for the first time.”
Avelyn stopped struggling in Max’s gentle arms. This was worse than she could have ever imagined. One blow after the other.
“As Mr. Blackmane said, the first changes will be small and merely unpleasant, but the metamorphosis itself is going to be very painful the first couple of times. Your body will be pushed to the limits, and there’s no way we can make this part easier for you. There are 98% chances that you will lose the baby, and if you don’t, there are no guarantees that it will be… healthy.”
Avelyn let Max set her back on the pillow and arrange the covers over her trembling body. She looked at her hands, incapable of saying anything. She didn’t know what to say. In fact, she didn’t know what to think. A minute ago, she couldn’t believe she was pregnant, and didn’t know if she should be angry at the doctor because he had made such a horrible, unprofessional mistake and put everyone on edge for nothing, or at Christine, because she had lied to her. There it was again. That dreadful feeling that she couldn’t trust anyone. Now, her world had been turned upside down again. She had no idea how she should feel about it. She was pregnant, but she was going to lose the baby. Should she… ignore it? Should she cry about it? Should she feel relieved or devastated? She needed time. Now, more than ever, she needed time to think and sort out her feelings. Her hands went instinctively to her belly, and she closed her eyes, trying to feel if there was a new life there, inside her. Max touched her shoulder, but she didn’t react.
“I’m sorry,” said the doctor and stepped away from the bed.
Avelyn didn’t look up, but she was mildly aware that Jocelyn had opened the door for him and let him out. She stayed like that, in silence, for long minutes, the tips of her fingers pressing lightly on her own belly, as if they were looking for something, waiting for a sign. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. Her vision was foggy for a moment, and she blinked the blur away, trying to get the room back into focus. Jocelyn was sitting on the sofa, her left elbow on the armrest. Christine was still at the foot of the bed, silent and unmoving. Max was slowly combing her hair with his fingers.
“I was supposed to be the one to tell you, but it seems I couldn’t,” he said. “I didn’t want to let a stranger give you such news.”
Avelyn looked at him, but she didn’t quite see him. Her gaze went back to the old woman. “How could you?”
Max’s fingers froze in her curls. He turned to Christine and noticed there was something in her posture, something that screamed regret and exhaustion. He knew that Sabine’s escape and the fact that she had hurt Avelyn had taken a toll on her, but there was something else, too. Something he couldn’t pinpoint.
“I did it for a reason,” said Christine. Her voice was small, but it didn’t quiver.
“Okay, what’s happening here?” Max stood up and moved his gaze from one to the other. This was insane. The bad news just kept coming, didn’t it? When it rained, it poured.
“I want to be alone,” said Avelyn. The impatience in his voice had reminded her she was not alone with Christine, and maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to have this discussion with her now. No, she had no intention of lying to him again, but she had to know the whole story first. Christine and her herbal mixtures and teas. How could she have been so blind, so naïve? How could she have trusted Chri
stine? A stranger. She had never been her friend.
“Avelyn, no,” said Max. “There is something wrong here, and I want to know what. What is happening between the two of you?”
Avelyn gave a deep sigh and looked up at him. She saw how tired and distressed he was. She contemplated telling him everything in a single breath and get it over with, but she simply didn’t have the power. All her energy had left her, and she just wanted to curl up under the covers and sleep. Sleep until it all faded away and the time passed. Sleep until all the problems got solved by pure inertia and she could wake up to a different world, a world void of worry, mysteries, and lies.
“Christine can tell you,” she finally said. She couldn’t do this anymore. She wanted to be left alone, in her own hell. “I can’t right now. I don’t… I don’t have the energy. I just want to sleep.”
Max wanted to say something, but stopped himself when he saw the plea in her tired eyes. She wasn’t lying. She wasn’t dodging the confrontation because she wanted to keep whatever was between her and Christine from him. He thought back to how insanely happy he had been when the doctor had told him about the pregnancy, and how his world crashed when he had continued with the bad news. The impact on Avelyn must have been tenfold. She was the mother, after all. Or, she was supposed to be the mother. He couldn’t imagine what was in her heart. One moment, she knew she would have a baby, the next, it was gone. She’d never have the chance to hold it in her arms, to see it grow. And what topped it all was the fact that she’d carry it for a month, only to lose it the moment her body broke and turned under the power of the full moon. This whole thing was so messed up in the worst way possible, and he realized there was nothing, absolutely nothing, that could be more devastating than what had just been set in motion by a single werewolf bite.