Immortal Wolf

by Bonnie Vanak

  Damian suddenly crushed her in a hug. “There has to be another way,” he said fiercely.

  Surprise filled her as she inhaled his scent. Emily angled a smile up at him. “Your scent is unique. Your Jamie…her scent is mixed with yours. She is carrying a child.”

  His brothers whipped their heads up. Raphael stared. Damian sighed as Emily stepped back. “I was going to tell all of you at dinner.”

  Amid the hearty round of congratulations and backslapping, Damian looked morose again. He glanced at Raphael. “I’m ecstatic and so is she. If not for you, Rafe, we wouldn’t have had all this. I wouldn’t have my Jamie.” His jaw tightened as he stared into the distance.

  The others fell silent. She wanted to cheer Damian. Emily wracked her brain for a way to pull him free of his misery and shock him into smiling. She squeezed his hand. “Congratulations. I suppose this means playing with your balls isn’t your favorite pastime.”

  The others sputtered with laughter. “He told you that?” Damian asked, his eyes widening.

  Emily nodded and beamed. “He said all of you enjoy it. It’s your favorite game. Perhaps after dinner you all can show me how you do it.”

  Gabriel scratched his stubbled jaw. “Ah, maybe Rafe can show you. He’s always doing it.”

  Gabriel ducked as her mate scowled and swung a mock punch at him. Emily returned to her mate’s side, slid her arms about him.

  “No, Raphael hasn’t done it once since his arrival. All he’s shown me is what he can do with his wood. He’s very skilled.”

  Raphael made a choking sound. Alex studied her mate’s pallor. “Hey, Rafe, man, are you blushing?”

  Damian burst into laughter. The others whistled as Raphael muttered in Cajun for his brothers to do something. Emily turned to him, considering.

  “Isn’t that anatomically impossible?” She aimed a teasing smile at him. “Or are you confusing your metaphors like I usually do?”

  His dark eyes widened as he gently touched her mind, saw what she meant. “You little minx…you knew what you…”

  Of course I knew what I was talking about. I did it to break the tension. Your brother Damian needed a distraction. He is hurting badly. She looked at his brothers with an impish smile. “I forgot. We have no basketball, no football, or baseball here. You’ll have to improvise. And I expect you’ll show me exactly how you play the game when all this is over and I can get to know you, and your families, much better.”

  Now his brothers blushed. Raphael laughed. He pulled her close and stared solemnly down at her. “I love you,” he said aloud. “And I’m not about to let you go. We’ll find a way.”

  “We will,” she replied.

  Then he kissed her deeply, and Gabe chortled, “Hey, Rafe, man. Before you get too involved, think you can show us where we sleep?”

  Emily blushed this time as her mate laughed softly. He kissed her again and regarded his brothers. “Let’s get all of you settled. All the cabins are free. A little musty maybe, but you guys remember how to clean.”

  “That’s what females are for,” Damian said with a straight face, and then he laughed again at Emily’s scowl. “Don’t tell my mate,” he added, with a mock look of horror.

  She felt Raphael finally relax beside her.

  “Then what, Rafe?” Etienne asked.

  His jaw tensed as he stared into the forest. She knew he sensed what she did. Evil was soon approaching. The air felt thick with the stench of raw, abused power.

  “And then we fight,” he replied grimly.

  Chapter 16

  N o answers had come to Raphael during the night. He’d spent a sleepless night trying to think of a solution and arrived at nothing. They’d all spent the day talking, trying to arrive at solutions. No one had any.

  He slipped through the woods now, sidestepping the crunch of pecan shells beneath his bare feet. Green moss coated the dirt pathway, making it slick, but Raphael’s tread was sure and light. Overhead, a mockingbird, ever protective of its territory, scolded him. The damp, enticing scent of forest surrounded him. Tonight was the first night of the full moon.

  Raphael paused by the small glen where the stone altar sat, the grounds humming with unseen power. With reverence he approached the altar, put a hand upon the stone. He called forth all his magick, all his strength.

  Closed his eyes.

  No visions came to him.

  He thought of what Aibelle told him—to see with his heart, not his eyes. To use his intellect, not his strength.

  Raphael opened his eyes and saw the altar. Saw Emily lying upon it, her red-gold hair spilling about her, her delicate, nearly translucent skin glowing with health and vitality. She was like nature herself, strong and endless, one with the earth, the source of her power. He envisioned her gentle heart giving life, but her hands causing death.

  He saw her eyes shifting color, blue with passion, gray with grief or fear, amethyst.

  He envisioned her, fertile in the springtime, growing sad and distant with winter.

  The vision slammed into him with the force of a hurricane. He staggered back, driven into mute shock. How could he have been so damn blind?

  No wonder Emily was different. “Different like me, and just as alone because of it,” he mused aloud. “It was meant to be.”

  The realization slammed into him with the force of a Category 5 hurricane. Neither of them was destined to blend with the pack because of who they were. Raphael felt overcome by a feeling of deep peace and acceptance—and forgiveness of those who wronged him in his childhood.

  Now he knew what Aibelle had meant. His eyes, and his heart, were opened.

  Giving a little bow of his head, he murmured thanks to the place of sanctity. He turned and headed back to the cottage where Emily waited, summoning all his inner strength.

  For surely he was right.

  If he were wrong, he risked much.

  Her life.

  When he returned from the forest, Raphael sent his brothers to secure the property with a powerful shield. He could tell that Emily liked them. Their casual yet powerful air and their loyalty to each other were appealing. They had treated her with courtesy while her mate was gone, but she’d brought out some bottles of beer Raphael claimed they liked, and soon they had loosened up. They told her stories about Raphael, joked about him, yet beneath the teasing air lay tremendous respect and almost a worshipful air.

  She was glad she and Raphael were alone now, though the reason for it made her heart heavy.

  A full moon, the size of a half dollar, hung low in the sky. Emily braced her hands on the railing, staring at the silvery light filtering through the forest.

  Her beloved woods. She had lived here, nurtured the earth with tender care, loved the land with a fierceness and relished the freedom it gave her.

  Tonight, her blood would be shed on the earth she cherished.

  The screen door slammed. Raphael stepped onto the porch. His gaze was filled with warmth, understanding, and yet she sensed the tension inside him.

  In his hands he held the ancient texts. “Are you ready?” he asked.

  Unable to speak, she nodded. They climbed down the steps and ventured deep into the forest to the stone altar. Set on the slab was a bowl filled with ripe mistletoe berries.

  Emily took a deep breath as Raphael set the book down, and then she smeared the ripe berries over the sacred words.

  Beneath the ghostly, pale glint of light, words appeared. She craned her neck and pointed, her finger shaking. Her heart pounded as sweat trickled down her back. Raphael gave her a questioning look. She didn’t want to tell him, couldn’t bear it. Emily strained to read the rest of the words, but they blurred once more.

  He must know.

  Her voice trembled as she spoke, the words sounding on a moan like the wind.

  “It says, ‘The Destroyer, Raphael, must shed the Chosen One’s heart’s blood on the sacred altar on the first night of the full moon by plunging the Scian through her heart.’ It names y
ou, Raphael. Tonight, you must kill me.”

  Too emotional, Emily couldn’t read the rest of the text that followed. Raphael tried to soothe her fears, but she trembled in his arms.

  “How can you do this? It’s too much to ask of you,” she told him.

  Illiterate in the ways of the Old Language, he couldn’t read the book. The knowledge was denied to him because he was of an inferior lineage. Raphael didn’t know what followed the sentence Emily read. If there were instructions or specific directions on how to shed her blood, he was ignorant of them.

  All he had was gut instinct and his heart to guide him. He drew in a deep breath, hoping it was enough, and turned her around to face him. Using their telepathic link, Raphael poured all his love, all his trust and belief in her.

  Emily, I know now why Aibelle said what she did. Texts and traditions didn’t hold the answers. You do. I saw you with my heart’s eye, and I know now. He touched her red-gold hair, his hand straying to her face, cupping her chin.

  Your eyes shift color depending upon your mood. They turn brown when you’re angry, gray when you are sad, and—a faint smile touched his mouth—various shades of purple when you are aroused. Your hair is a rich, vibrant color, like autumn leaves touched by sunlight. You’re fertile only in the spring. Four drops of your blood, representing the four seasons, restore life to the dying. No other Draicon has this ability. Everything about you is unique, special. Different.

  “I don’t want to be different. I never did. I only wanted to be ordinary, and belong,” she cried out. “What good is it to be apart from everyone else, and be alone?” His heart broke at her next words. “Wasn’t I ever good enough to be loved for who I am?”

  “You are. I love you and I always will. Those who once loved you, and abandoned you because you are special, let their fears and their resentments crowd out their ability to love you for who you are. They turned to embrace evil because they couldn’t bear someone being more powerful than they were, as you are. It’s the essence of why Draicon turn Morph. Their fears and their quest for power leads them to embrace evil. Yet some Draicon are called to walk alone and be different. I was. And you are as well.” He caressed her skin, savoring the silky touch of her. “You will never be anything other than special because of who birthed you.”

  As she stared blankly, he forged ahead, knowing she must believe in him for this to all work. “Your mother, Aibelle. The goddess. You’re her daughter. And because you are, you are immortal, as I am.”

  Emily’s lips parted as her huge green eyes went wide with shock. “Which is why when I do what I am called to do, sink my blade into your heart, you will not die,” he continued. “This is the sacrifice Aibelle told me that you and I must make to save our people. I don’t know what will happen, but we have to believe it’s for the best.”

  Immortal. Aibelle was her mother. And she could not die.

  Emily, who had trusted few, who had been taught to be wary of growing close with anyone, now must trust Raphael with her very life. Trust that he was right.

  Raphael was different. His strength, courage and mixed blood set him apart. He had lived alone, as she had, had walked the solitary path, as she had.

  His was a choice. He made the choice to become Kallan. She had no choice in what she was given.

  And now he asked her to step out in complete faith and trust.

  It was too much to absorb. She wanted to dance away, retreat and think over what he’d said. They had no time.

  In the pale moonlight, he watched her. Keeping a little distant, but his expression filled with love and concern.

  “What you ask of me, it’s very difficult,” she managed. “What if I’m not? What if it’s all not as you think?”

  “You have to trust me, chere. Trust in my love for you and what we’re both called to do.” A heavy sigh fled his deep chest. “It’s like when I stepped off the mountain into the mist. It was damn scary, and all my instincts protested. But I took the leap.”

  “A leap of faith. Just as I am supposed to do with you.”

  If he were wrong, she’d die. If he were right, and something wonderful did happen, then they had a means for defeating the most powerful Morphs of all.

  “There is a reason for the gifts you were given, chere. Just as there was a reason for my being different.” Raphael’s body tensed as he stared at the book. “When I was younger, I only wanted to be like the proud French, the Draicon who looked down at me because I was Cajun. They called me mongrel, but I see now that perhaps there was a reason for what I was. I was already different, and this enabled me to become stronger, and be willing to step outside the pack. Because to be Kallan, I had to be alone.”

  Her heart lurched at his sad but resolved tone. “It was difficult, always having them loathe me for my impure bloodlines. I was separate from most when I was younger, and when I became Kallan, I became even more so. I see now why I took this path. Because it led me to you. For all the pain it cost me, I wouldn’t do it any differently, as long as I have you.”

  His eyes closed. “And I have to trust that what my heart, as well as my intellect, tells me is right. We’re called for a special purpose, to do this. Trust me.”

  For years, she had felt different, hated standing out from her pack. Could there be a reason for all she’d endured? Was she truly the daughter of a powerful goddess?

  She thought about her love of the earth, how she always felt comfortable and welcomed by natural surroundings. How she coughed at the exhaust of cities and needed to be close to the land to restore her strength. Emily stretched out her hands, seeing them as gifts. Her gaze flew to Raphael.

  Her mate. The one who loved her, despite all her attempts to turn him away. The one male who knew what it was like to walk alone and have all others turn away.

  Her missing half of magick.

  Her love, who offered his life for hers.

  Called for a special purpose. It was hard to believe, yet Raphael sounded so convincing. He truly believed in this. Emily sensed he asked her to do more than just trust in his words.

  He wanted her to trust in him, as well. Believing what he said meant a very large leap of faith. Suddenly she wanted more than anything in the world to believe what he said, because it meant she was no longer alone. She had someone at her side who fully understood the trials she’d undergone, because he’d suffered the same.

  Pulse racing, she placed her hand over his, feeling the tensile strength in his hands. Remembering how tenderly they had caressed her, how they had shielded her.

  “I love you. I have a hard time believing what you’re telling me, but I trust you. I’ll place my life in your hands because it’s the best place to be,” she whispered.

  Raphael hugged her, tunneling his fingers through her hair. When they broke apart, she touched his cheek. “In the words of your brother Damian, que sera, sera. Whatever will be, will be.”

  Raphael bent his head and gave her a slow, lingering kiss. She felt his sad smile against her lips. “So let it be.”

  The midnight hour had arrived. The time had come.

  Rapahel knew what he must do. He wanted to stroke Emily’s face. Upon the altar in her white gown, she lay still and pale, no fear shadowing her features. It was as if she were dead already.

  His brothers gathered around, watching with unease. When he had explained to them, they accepted, but he sensed their disquiet and more so, their intense worry for him. Yet they trusted him enough to leave him to his duty. Anguish had crossed Damian’s face as he glanced at Emily. He, more than the others, sensed what this cost.

  Silver light stroked the short blade of the Sacred Scian. Raphael closed his eyes and uttered a short prayer for strength.

  As he opened his eyes, he saw Emily looking at him. Love shone in her emerald eyes, not fear.

  At the final hour, she’d opened her heart and poured all her faith and trust into him.

  His hands trembled slightly. He only hoped he was worthy enough of it.

&
nbsp; Raphael poured all his strength into her mind. Forgive me, my love, he said silently.

  Raising the dagger, he spoke the ritual words. His deep voice rang out through the still woods. “In accordance to the honored ways of the Ancients, I, the Kallan, release you, troubled spirit, into the Other Realm to dwell peacefully forever in the lands of the ones before us.”

  The blade shimmered in the moonlight as he held it, quivering, above her breast.

  “I love you,” he told her. I will always love you.

  She gasped as he plunged dagger down, sinking it into her heart. Blood gushed from the wound in a small fountain, spilled over the stone.

  Emily’s eyes fluttered closed as he withdrew the blade.

  Something splashed from his face onto the altar. He brought his left hand, the hand not covered with her life’s blood, to his face.

  The tears rolled down his cheeks. He could not stop them. A low moan rumbled in his throat.

  Take a leap of faith.

  But had he leapt too far and wide, assuming in his arrogance that he held the answers? Raphael bent his head, his blurred vision scanning Emily’s still face. She looked asleep.

  What if he were wrong? His hands went cold and clammy as he set down the dagger and wiped his hands against his shirt. Tenderly he stroked her hair back, willing her to breathe again.

  No movement showed as a heartbeat of silence passed.

  Nothing.

  He’d killed her. Assumed she had been immortal, the daughter of Aibelle.

  “No,” he whispered.

  “Rafe, man.” Behind him, Gabriel’s voice broke. “You did your duty. You had no choice.”

  There’s always a choice, and I made the wrong one.

  “It’s my fault,” he yelled, tipping his head back to shout at the sky. “I was too arrogant, too proud, and assumed I was right. Damn it, why did I do this? Maybe it was the wrong time, the wrong place. I don’t know! If I had been able to read the damn texts, if I had the knowledge, I could have deciphered the rest of them and saved her. Why did you pick me, when I don’t have the knowledge she needed to live? I’m supposed to be the one who cherishes and keeps her safe, and look what I’ve done.”