The Beast In The Castle

by Daniella Wright

  “I thought you’d left again,” he said.

  “Nope. Just getting something to eat,” I said, holding up the bowl of dry cereal. “Want some Cheerios?”

  “Sure,” he said, getting the milk out of the fridge for his. We stood silently in the kitchen, eating our cereal.

  “I didn’t thank you for rescuing me,” I began.

  “Someone had to,” he said. “You don’t have to thank me.”

  “You didn’t have to,” I said. “You barely know me.”

  “I wanted to,” he responded. “Not everyone in the Pack was up for it. Bianca said you’d made your choice. Pastor Rich had to stay out of it since he has a public image to maintain. The Palmers, oddly enough, were part of his congregation. But I wanted to. And Sami and the twins were behind me.”

  “Why?” I asked. “Why save me?” He looked at me.

  “Don’t you know?” I shook my head.

  “Tell me.” He put his cereal bowl down on the counter and put his lips up against my ear.

  “We wolves have a tendency to imprint,” he whispered warmly. I laughed.

  “You’re kidding.”

  “I want you,” he said in my ear.

  “You have me quite at your mercy, Mr. Wolf,” I replied. He took my bowl away from me, and lifting me in his arms, carried me in to the bedroom.

  He was so gentle with me—this time, it was less frantic than before. The lovemaking was slow, and he made sure that I came first, massaging my clit with his fingers. I kept my eyes open the whole time—the way that he looked at me making my insides feel electric. I had never felt so desired before. He came, moaning softly as he tucked his face in to the hollow between my chin and my neck. I never wanted this to end, but at the same time, the outside world knocked.

  “Owen—” I began.

  “No. We’ll talk later. Tonight, just be with me.” He sat up, gasping. “Tonight! Fuck.”

  “What?” I said, sitting up.

  “It’s the full moon. I’ll have no control over myself,” he explained, quickly grabbing clothes out of his dresser, and tossing me a shirt and a pair of athletic shorts far too big for me. “You have to get out of here—somewhere safe.”

  “Where? Where should I go?”

  “There’s a hunting blind, about a mile away,” he said, looking out of the window, where the twilight created a blue glow. “I think I can get you there before the moon rises.”

  We were running through the woods again, racing toward the hunting blind. I heard a distinct howling. Owen paused.

  “Shit,” he said, dropping me as he began to shift into a wolf. We were too late. “Run.”

  I ran, as fast as I could on my bare feet, but I didn’t know where I was going and it was dark. My heart leaped as I raced. I suddenly heard a growl behind me as Owen leapt upon me, knocking me to the ground. I looked into his eyes, usually brown; they were a shocking red color. I screamed as he bit me.

  I was afraid that this was the moment that I was going to die. Just when life had seemed so promising, Owen was going to tear my throat out. This was when a large, copper-colored Alpha sprang from the bushes. Pastor Rich, I thought. I held a hand to my throat, which was bleeding freely. The Alpha snarled, forcing Owen away from me. I quickly tore a strip of cloth off of the t-shirt that I was wearing, and wrapped it around my neck to slow the bleeding.

  This was when I realized that I was beginning to sweat. The woods were spinning, and I tried to stand, staggering to my feet. I didn’t know where to go. I could hear the two wolves snarling and snapping at each other nearby. I sank back to my knees, keeping pressure on my wound. I felt faint, like I was going to pass out. And then everything faded, and I fainted.

  When I awoke, everything was bright—far too bright. I was in Owen’s bedroom, and he sat next to me on the bed, wearing only a pair of jeans; his hair mussed, and the skin around his eyes red, as though he’d been crying. He had bruises and scratches on his body. Pastor Rich, dressed all in black, stood by the door, a solemn look upon his face. I felt like I had a fever—hot and covered in sweat.

  “I think I’m going to throw up,” I croaked, and Owen held a plastic garbage can for me as I vomited bile. I lay back on the bed, breathing through my nose. “What’s wrong with me?”

  “I’m so sorry,” Owen said, holding my hand. “If you want me to leave—”

  “Stay,” I whispered. He looked like he was going to cry.

  “When Owen bit you in the woods last night, you were infected,” Pastor Rich said.

  “What does that mean?” I asked. My head was throbbing.

  “You’re going to be a werewolf,” Owen said. I looked at him. He was wracked with guilt. I nodded. Oh well. Better than a vamp, I suppose.

  “It’s okay,” I said.

  “No, it’s not,” Owen said. “I promised to protect you, but I couldn’t even protect you from myself.” I shut my eyes.

  “I want this,” I said. “I’m going to be strong, and I’m going to stay with you, Owen Green.” I could hear Owen sobbing silently as I dropped off into an uneasy sleep.

  I slept fitfully, waking up to hallucinations—my parents, skin pale as the Palmer’s standing over me. I didn’t know where I was, and I felt too sick or weak to stand. I fell back to sleep, waking again, but this time to all of the Palmers, standing in a half-circle around the foot of the bed. I tried to scream, but my throat was swollen, and I couldn’t seem to make my vocal chords work. I felt so warm, and I was drenched in my own sweat.

  I dreamed that I was back in the bar, with Kelly and Ella. We all sat around the table at the Ice House, and I sat with my fingers on the heart-shaped planchette for the Ouija board.

  “Hey girls. Are we playing?” I said, waiting for them to place their fingers on the planchette.

  “Of course we are, City Mouse,” Kelly said.

  “You’re talking to us, aren’t you?” Ella said.

  I noticed that their necks were slit open, and their blood was coursing down their chests.

  “We’re still dead, City Mouse,” Kelly said. They smiled at me, their eyes going all black, and I woke with a start.

  The fever was gone. The room was sunny, and I heard voices in the living room. The Pack. I eased myself up; I was wearing a t-shirt and the lace panties from the Palmer’s house of horrors. I felt tired and hungry, but stronger than ever. I got out of bed, padding over to the door. When I opened it, the twins sprung up from the sofa, locking me in a tight hug.

  “Welcome to The Pack, Ness!” They said simultaneously. Bianca looked up from her book, a different one this time.

  “It’ll be nice to have another she-wolf around,” she said, smiling warmly for the first time.

  “Give her some space,” Owen said. He was looking at me hesitantly, standing with his hands in his pockets. I ran over to him, kissing him full on the lips. He froze for a second, then softened, leaning into the kiss.

  “Enough, you two,” Sami said, laughing.

  “I’m starving,” I said.

  “Cereal?” Owen asked. I sighed, walking into the kitchen and throwing open the fridge. I grabbed one of the raw cuts of meat, tearing open the grocery store packaging before tearing into it with my teeth.

  “That might be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen a woman do,” Owen said.

  “Shut up,” I replied, wiping blood from my mouth before devouring the whole thing.

  The whole pack was present when I shifted into a wolf for the first time. They all shape-shifted first, one by one running into the woods, until only Owen and I were left standing by the cottage. I smiled at him. He smiled back, but I could tell that he still felt guilty.

  “Let’s do this,” I said. He nodded, and I felt myself begin to shift. My senses sharpened—I could see better, and I could detect a million new smells. I looked at the wolf that was Owen, felt how much I cared for him with a jolt, and then leapt off into the woods after the rest of the Pack. We ran together, the trees and the sun blurring as we raced on.
I felt strong, and connected, not just to Owen, but the others, as well. I belonged. I wasn’t some rich girl. I wasn’t some new girl in town. I was a she-wolf. I was a member of the Pack. But more than that, I was with Owen, the love of my life.

  A few days later, back at the cottage, entwined in bed with Owen, he kissed my hair. It was night, and we had just gotten back from my first hunt with the Pack. I felt exhilarated, filled with fresh protein and endorphins.

  “So, how is it?” He asked. “Everything that you wanted?” He still sounded bitter.

  “Almost. But not quite,” I said. He froze. “I mean, I love it—the strength, the agility, the connection to The Pack…”

  “But?” He whispered huskily.

  “But I have this feeling that you think I’m going to leave again.” He exhaled. “And I want to prove to you that I won’t.” I turned so that I was looking him in the eyes. He looked afraid, set off balance.

  “Marry me,” I said. It wasn’t what he had been expecting at all, I could tell.

  “Are you sure?”

  “More than anything,” I replied, and he pulled me in close. I could feel him smiling into my hair. “I love you, Owen.” He sat back, teasing a tendril of my hair.

  “I love you, Ness,” he said. “I’ve never loved anyone before.”

  “Neither have I,” I replied.

  “Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?” he asked.

  “Never patronize a she-wolf,” I warned him, nipping his ear playfully. He grabbed me, covering me with his body, and kissing me as everyone deserves to be kissed at least once in their lives. I was looking forward to being kissed that way every day for the rest of mine.

  I never truly returned to the human world, forsaking it almost entirely for the safe, warm cocoon that I inhabited with Owen in our cottage in the woods, and the company of The Pack. I sometimes went into Wimberley, but the people there hardly recognized me. I didn’t look quite like my human self anymore—my features became more refined as I spent more time as a wolf. My body lost any extra padding that it’d had, and became more muscular, athletic. My eyes were suddenly a vibrant green. I began to wear my hair longer, as it was thicker, and fuller. Sami made me a wonderful fake ID, one for a certain Ness Green, resident of the state of Texas.

  Owen and I were married in a clearing in the woods by Pastor Rich. Only our pack was in attendance; they stood around us in a circle, wearing their best. It was deep into the afternoon in late summer, and I had a crown of blue bells and wildflowers in my hair that matched my bouquet. My dress was delicate white lace over a linen shift. As I walked alone into the clearing, my eyes were on Owen. He was wearing a white oxford over a pair of jeans and cowboy boots. His hair was tousled, and his ever-present stubble shadowed his jawline.

  He smiled at me, like the first time he saw me, the smile reaching his warm brown eyes that I had come to love so much. He held out a hand, and I took it confidently after handing my bouquet to Bianca. He squeezed my hand as Pastor Rich began.

  “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to join these wolves in holy matrimony,” he began, and we all grinned at the appropriation of our species. “Marriage, as Pack rules understand it, is a voluntary and complete commitment. It is made in the fullest sense and to the rejection of all others, and is entered into with the desire and hope that it will last for life.”

  “Is it your intention to be married today?” Pastor Rich asked us.

  “Yes,” we said together.

  “Do you come here freely and without reservation?” He asked.

  “Yes,” we both said, adamantly. Pastor Rich looked at me.

  “Vanessa, do you take Owen to share your life, to build your dreams, and promise to give him your respect, love, and loyalty through all of the trials and triumphs in your lives together?” He asked. I looked at Owen as I said:

  “I do.”

  “Owen, do you take Vanessa to share your life, to build your dreams, and promise to give her your respect, love, and loyalty through all of the trials and triumphs in your lives together?” Pastor Rich asked.

  “I do,” Owen was grinning easily.

  “May I have the rings?” Pastor Rich asked. Sami stepped forward and handed Pastor Rich the rings. He handed the larger of the two unadorned golden rings to me.

  “Vanessa, place the ring on Owen’s hand, and repeat after me.” I slid the ring onto Owen’s left ring finger.

  “With this ring, I marry you,” Pastor Rich said.

  “With this ring, I marry you,” I said, looking up at Owen.

  “Wear it as a symbol of my love forever,” Pastor Rich prompted.

  “Wear it as a symbol of my love forever,” I responded, my voice cracking a little.

  “Owen, place the ring on Vanessa’s hand, and repeat after me.” Pastor Rich continued. “With this ring, I marry you.” Owen slid the ring onto my finger.

  “With this ring, I marry you,” Owen was looking at me steadily, solemnly.

  “Wear it as a symbol of my love forever,” Pastor Rich said.

  “Wear it as a symbol of my love forever,” Owen said.

  “May your life together be blessed with prosperity and good health, and may your love for each other be a source of strength, respect, and passion for one another, all the days of your lives. I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” Pastor Rich finished.

  We shared our first kiss as a married couple. Our Pack shifted and howled joyfully. I leaned back and looked into Owen’s eyes. His hands were on my hips, holding me close. I had never been more his, nor he mine. The look of exhaustion was gone, and I would see it return from time to time. His past would always have its hold on him, but I would kiss it away, reminding him that it was just that—the past. That day, we shape-shifted into wolf-form and ran off into the slowly darkening woods.

  ~*~

  THE END

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  Double Touch

  ~ Bonus Story ~

  A Paranormal Menage Erotic Romance

 
  Chester tangles a hand in Lucky’s hair as if to urge him onward. As Lucky focuses on my chest, Chester adjusts his grip on me to slip his fingertips under the waistband of my pants, brushing against my wispy hairs down below. I inhale shakily, and Lucky pauses in his ministrations, pulling away slightly.

  “This can’t be happening.” I blurt, feeling as if I’m in some sort of haze.

  * * *

  Have you ever fallen into such a state of monotony, such acceptance of the mediocrity of your life, that once you’re startled out of it, you’re unsure what to do? That’s how I feel, watching them lower my mother’s body in the ground. I feel like perhaps I should be crying more, throw myself on the coffin, but in spite of myself all I can feel is… confusion. I’ve been watching my mother slowly succumb to a disease that ravaged her body over the course of nearly five years. It’s been a trial, a lonely one at that. With no real direction to go in, I simply watch with an addled mind as the coffin is lowered the final distance. People are beginning to disperse, and I’ve heard my share of comments on what a beautiful ceremony it was. I exhale a weary breath, drawing my phone from my pocket and dialing a vaguely familiar number. I can only hope his number hasn’t changed, since… well, in the years I’ve been taking care of Ma.

  “Hello, this is the Lawrence resident, James speaking.” A voice answers abruptly, and I briefly consider hanging up. He doesn’t recognize my number, it’s been so long, my whining would be unwelcome… Then he pauses, inhales slowly and speaks hopefully. “Cassie, honey, is that you?” He murmurs, and it’s at that moment the tears begin to spill down my cheeks.

  “H-hi
, daddy.” I blubber, cursing myself for my inability to keep my composure. If he notices my tears, he gives no indication. “Ma… ma’s gone to be with the lord, daddy.” I continue, and I hear his voice hitch as he immediately prepares to console me. I realize I’m standing alone in the middle of the cemetery, and it will be nearing dusk soon. I can barely process the words he’s saying as I meander back to where my car is parked, wondering where on earth I’ll go from here.

  “-- and I know you’ve got your mom’s place to take care of, but there’s always a place on the farm for you if you should want it,” I manage to catch, and I tighten my grip on the phone. Even in spite of the years we’ve been apart, it’s as if my father can read my mind.

  “I… really?” I begin, but quickly continue to momentarily divert the conversation. “How have things been on the farm, anyhow? It’s been a while,” I say in an attempt to sound bright and cheerful. The words fall short, even to my own ears. My father rumbles a soft laugh, though the sound is tempered with sadness.

  “It’s been too long. But, you were doing a good thing taking care of your ma as long as you did. Like I said, you’d be welcome to come stay down here for a spell anytime.” He offers again, and my heart thuds in my chest. My mind races to the long days and peaceful nights on my daddy’s farm, wandering the fields and catching lightning bugs. A familiar face worms its way into my mind, and I speak without really intending to.

  “How’s Lucky been?” I say before I can stop myself. My dad laughs again, a more jovial sound this time.

  “Aw, girl. You know that boy ain’t never stopped missing you. He’s been working on the farm since he was old enough to work a plow, and he stays in the barn loft with ol’ Chester.” He hums, and confusion seems to take over once more.