by Dalia Wright
“You could say,” Ricten said, smiling with blackened gums, “I had my fair share of humans in the Siberian villages. And two wives. The first one died in quite, ah, mysterious circumstances, of course. The second was a rather timid and weak little thing from the Nikan family. Which I believe is one of the families that is invading your beloved territory, is it not?”
Luelle bristled. Koroslav. Nikan. Urayenkov. The three families she had gotten to know intimately over her tenure in Siberia. All of them considered themselves ancient and proud bloodlines, much like the Bulgarian families that dwelled the mountains and believed it their right to feast upon the human cattle. What a horrible shock for these kind of families, Luelle considered, to have humans organizing themselves into peacekeepers and criminal hunters, using technology to track down the murderers.
Living in the past paved no way for the future. The inbred Siberian families were no exception.
“I highly doubt they would have chosen to convey any sort of information to you if they knew you were a Spirova – the same family they're harassing right now.”
“Ah, but they didn't know I am Spirova.” Ricten tapped his nose. “And I learned Russian from the crib. I could fit in with barely a ripple upon the water.”
Elinor crossed her arms. Evo glanced at Luelle, who tried giving him a reassuring smile. It hurt her to see Evo so maddened, and she wanted to just take him into her arms and hug the anger out of him, and tell him everything would be okay. He wouldn't understand why she did that, of course. He likely thought, somewhere, as did the rest, that she was an amalgam of trauma and suffering. Broken on the inside.
She wasn't. She was alive, and stronger from the trials faced. Her nightmares were mere moments of weakness, that vanished with light. The other women though, ensnared into the web of those families from abroad, they still existed in that doom spiral. And they had far less backbone than Luelle.
Nothing compared to the taste of long sought freedom – though Luelle still hadn't stumbled out of the woods.
“Why would you give such information? Aren't you loyal to your wife? The people who took you in?”
Ricten gave a tiny giggle, rolling his eyes around the room. “They're not too fond of me right now. Of course, they don't realize it was her fault. She shouldn't have been snitching on me. Cheating behind my back...”
“Ugh.” Luelle shared the look of disgust with Elinor. “Can we not just kill this piece of trash already?”
“Trash?” Ricten pulled himself upright, glaring daggers. “How dare you. None of you are fit to lick the shine off my boots. You're all the weak, liberal whining generation. No respect at all.”
Elinor scratched at her chin. “I'm going to have to interrogate this one further. Alone. You two. Out.”
The steel in her voice prompted Evo and Luelle to leave. Hardly had they exited the room, and heard the lock of the door inside before they burst into fury.
“I can't believe that man!” Evo shuddered, his ice blue eyes alight in rage. “I can't believe that someone so foul actually exists. Even our parents were better people than that.”
Luelle sighed. “There's plenty like him. Plenty who turn their noses like that, as if they're still living in the tenth century, thinking they can do what they want and have no consequence for it.”
They continued storming down the corridor, past simplistic paintings of Bulgarian villages and countryside, to plant pots dotted along the sides and a curving bannister that lead towards Luelle's hotel room. They passed an anxious looking Yanus by the unisex toilets, and halted. Arina came up the stairs the same moment, chewing on a packet of lightly salted chips.
“What's going on?” Luelle asked, confused.
Yanus paced up and down. “Frey's sick. She was vomiting in the toilet. She's been complaining of dizziness and nausea for a while. I think she's getting ill with something.”
Arina and Luelle exchanged glances, then stepped into the bathroom, with an anxious Evo and Yanus hovering outside.
Frey was slumped over the sink, wiping her mouth, beads of sweat on her forehead. “Go away,” she rasped, “I'll be fine. Probably ate something bad.”
Arina and Luelle, both adapting a no-nonsense attitude, began drilling her.
How long had she been feeling like this for? What had she eaten, what had changed in her life?
Frey grunted her answers. Luelle grinned atrociously and Arina mirrored it.
“What the fuck are you two looking so smug for?”
Arina placed an arm around Luelle, sharing a sisterly manner. “Well, Frey. You have an incurable condition. It's dreadful.”
“Fatal,” Luelle agreed. “Will change your life forever.”
Frey scowled at them. “What are you on about?”
Evo and Yanus, of course, could hear them at this distance. Luelle and Arina kept laying it on thick.
“You'll be having weird cravings for exotic foods,” Arina said.
“The cravings will last just under a year too, and then the parasite you're infected with will be gone.”
“Then, of course, you'll have a new host of problems to contend with.”
Realization struck Frey like a thunderbolt and she gaped at them. “What.” Her eyes grew as wide as moons.
“WHAT?” Yanus bellowed outside, and dashed into the bathroom. Evo followed as well, terrified and excited.
Luelle smirked at her brother's reaction, and on Evo's dawning expression of wonder.
In all the shit going on around them, it buoyed Luelle up to receive some good news for once. Frey walked away from the sink in a daze, drying off her hands with tissue. “That can't be possible.”
“Why can't it?” Yanus said, eyes shining like stars. “It's not like we were wearing any protection...”
“Fuck sake,” Frey said, blushing furiously. “I was not expecting this.”
“Maybe we should talk about this some more,” Yanus purred, a smile threatening to split his face. Luelle recognized the expression as pure joy, and laughed in reaction to her brother, happy to share such positivity.
Yes. We need some good news like this, with everything happening. We do.
Chapter Four
Luelle flopped out with Evo on the bed, arm propping her up as she examined him. The television flickered in the background with their excuse to hang out together, displaying an episode of Fringe. Evo had just gotten out of the kitchen after serving a pantheon of food to the guests in the hotel, injured and travelers alike. They now hosted around eight injured werewolves, including a Spirova – Elinor's seven year old grand-niece, Hana Spirova. She had tumbled down the Rila mountain face to escape her would-be murderers.
Despite the stress of the situation and not knowing when another wounded body would dump itself through the door, or if an attack would try and push past the sentries and staff on duty, Luelle found time to seek positive thoughts. Her “beloved” husband might be among the numbers, and she honestly hoped he'd die a brutal and miserable death, as compensation for all the misery he put her through.
Evo stared listlessly at the curtained window, rather than keeping his focus on the show. He ran a hand over Luelle's palm, sending little shivers of warmth through her blood. What was it about Evo she liked?
At first glance, he seemed gentle, jovial, kind. She suspected people might underestimate that, or assume him gullible to the whims of his elder sister.
However, being with his sister amounted to choice. He forged his own destiny, setting a new line of expectations and living. He loved his freedom. It glowed in his face.
Such genuine happiness hit a chord inside. Then there were the brief hints of an alpha personality under his charming façade – with the way he dived after Ricten and overpowered him, with the protective rage over his sister and Luelle when Ricten had spat and drooled and sneered.
If he wanted, he could quite easily become alpha and lead a pack – except he chose a nomadic path. A stray path.
Admiration bubbled into aro
usal. Those heart-wrenching blue eyes of his, like glittering jewels contrasted against his rich-toned skin made all sorts of interesting chemicals float in her blood. The pheromones didn't help, either.
It was wrong of her, on a level, to do this. She might be off to America in a week, she might be captured by the Kasanovs again. The chains of her future hovered uncertain, with an ominous whisper telling her that her days were numbered. That she would die before truly tasting the fresh happiness of freedom, and run wild without fear of vengeance or hatred.
To wrench herself out of the negative spiral, Luelle shifted her thoughts to Evo. “How do you feel about your sister's pregnancy?” Luelle asked, directing a gentle smile his way. His gaze shifted from the black spots on the curtains to Luelle's emerald eyes.
“Happy. Worried. Unsure.”
“Why unsure?” Luelle turned her body toward him, so that her shirt dipped to the side, revealing more than an appropriate amount of cleavage. His eyes darted there and back. He licked his lips nervously.
“I don't know what it might mean. I don't have a problem, of course, being an uncle. And I think Frey will be an awesome mother. I just... I didn't see it coming.”
“I get what you mean. Life doesn't always plan itself out so perfectly, does it?” Luelle drawled the last of her sentence, batting her eyelashes.
“Sure doesn't.” He raised a finger to trace over her chin. “Another thing to add to that list... can I give you some truth?”
“Always,” Luelle breathed, heart-rate increasing. An intensity gleamed in his eyes, and dug down into the nerve center of her body. He had been the one to watch over her when healing along with her brother, and cheered her up with jokes and smiles and hugs. He had been the one to grow oddly protective of her, even when he had no reason to – though he cited it was because he saw something of himself and Frey in Luelle and Yanus. He saw the bonds of affection and love in them. He saw their positions reversed, and his sister being carted off to some unknown, lonely place, with no one caring about her except him.
He saw a survivor, not a victim. And she felt kinship with him, warm and at home.
“I confess that I'm finding it harder and harder to control myself. The more I look at you, smell you, touch you – the more I want. The only thing holding me back is whether it's a good idea or not.”
A dark smile plastered itself on Luelle's lips. “Same.” Her hand began sliding along his arm, burrowing into his shirt and feeling the taut muscles there. “I'm so tired, Evo. You could be the best thing that's ever happened and although I keep telling myself I shouldn't do this – I want it.”
Evo's eyes dilated in lust, and a tremor went through his spine. A low growl rumbled in his throat. “Is that so...?”
Excitement flaring her nostrils, hand shaking, she ran her hand down over his stomach and to his crotch, feeling for his hardness.
This unraveled the last of the mental restraints placed on Evo. Without further prompting, he dived onto Luelle, forcing her to bounce onto her back as he pinned one arm and kissed her hard on the lips. Shivers of amazement infected Luelle. She had never been taken in a way she enjoyed – never anticipated it this much.
She also never felt so much love pressed against her lips, or to so eagerly accept another man's warmth and contact. They groped at one another, kiss and explored mouths, their bodies tangling together. Her skin burned, flushing crimson, and her cheeks heated up, making her think for a moment that she needed to open the windows, in case they combusted on the spot.
The last time she had been taken, it filled her heart with dread, and she simply iced over like a doll, unwilling to bring herself to stay in the present, not when she hated her husband with all her heart.
With Evo, she wanted him, desired him, and it surprised her. It scared her. Happiness had always been a far off dream, an illusion that kept her going on the dark and lonely nights.
Evo seemed quite intent on making her explode in happiness, as he rubbed against her body, and whispered his affection into her ear.
He sensed a little hesitation in her, even despite her eagerness – because her body remembered the bad times. He turned his passion into something that simmered, focusing on gentle treatment, love and patience.
He took off her clothes as if unwrapping a Goddess, and kissed every inch of her skin exposed, paying homage to everything that made her the person she was today.
When he kissed, he touched the deepest areas of her soul and made them light, burned away the corruption and darkness that ate away at her happiness and ability to love.
It made her special, to be worshipped this way. Naked under Evo at last, she didn't feel awkward or shy. She closed her eyes and kept herself in the moment, tracking every single thing he did to her, and the way he cherished every cell.
He only went inside her after her body had acclimatized to his touch, and she no longer flinched and trembled. His hardness brushed inside her, and soothed rather than stabbed. Her body relaxed and welcomed him, and he cradled her, kissed her lips and neck, their huffs and gasps intermingling.
He came before her. Her body had never come before, in her entire relationship with her husband – and Evo worked at her with total dedication, determined to make the night something more.
She told him it didn't matter if she didn't orgasm. All that mattered was the way he treated her, and she loved it.
She did, however, attain climax after a hard hour of work from Evo. Something about the way his tongue flicked at her down there, triggering long forgotten nerves of excitement and tension – encouraging her to brace her legs, to relax and stay in the moment with him – it brought to life the thing she once thought herself incapable of getting. Her husband had accused her often enough of being frigid.
So that was nice.
Evo certainly knew how to please a lady. Post-coital cuddling seemed to be a thing as well, all fresh new experiences in the short life of Luelle Armanev. All these feelings made her mull on just how much she had missed out, because of her family selling her.
This was what had been missing from her life.
Love.
Evo spotted the tears prickling behind her eyelids. Instead of asking what the tears were about, he hugged her tight to his bare chest, nourishing the affection there. He understood, even if she didn't.
Chapter Five
Luelle watched Evo sleeping for a while, admiring how the shafts of sunlight from the gaps in the window illuminated his beautiful face.
Somewhere, she felt like she didn't deserve happiness. She knew logically the thought to be ridiculous. The deeper emotional part, however, whispered to her insecurities and doubts.
His sister is pregnant. He'll want to stay with her. Elinor might sell me off to the Kasanovs if the conflict becomes too much. This created immeasurable sadness. She didn't want to leave him. Neither did she want to stay here. Happiness insisted on dangling out of reach, taunting her with its proximity.
If she ended up being Evo's mate for real, custom dictated he took on her family name. Evo Armanev. She tasted the word in her mouth, appreciating the way the surname rolled over her tongue. She went further, imagining them getting on a plane together, flying across the mountains and the sea, spotting America from a distance as they broke through the clouds. Once past airport protocol, they could go to a quiet spot together, morph into feral forms and just bound across the landscape. Free at last. Safe at last.
If Frey came, however, that cemented the dream, made it reality. And the woman had every reason to move. She was pregnant with Luelle's niece, and Yanus planned to give everything up to make the move with Luelle.
Perhaps the staff might follow, too, and maybe they could set up a new hotel in North Dakota, and entrust Springmoon to Elinor.
So many possibilities. Such little time. Heart pinching, Luelle focused on running her hand through Evo's frizzy hair, wishing to the wolf spirit that things between them worked out and that no one died when the invasion made its way to Sapareva
Banya. Luelle reflected briefly on her husband, and his stubborn refusal to take her name, and hers on him. She had declared she didn't want the family name of a low-born Siberian tribe. Weeks of punishment later, bruised and heckled, she nonetheless kept her family name. She wasn't proud of it, though. Her parents sold her out, breaking the former illusion of pride.
She just didn't want another name binding her to someone she didn't like.
Smiling, she got out of bed, foraging through the wardrobe for some appropriate clothing. She cleaned herself up in the shower and completed her morning ritual, and was just brushing her teeth when she heard a vicious howl from outside. The sound came in broad daylight, when humans were up and about.
They wouldn't. They wouldn't dare compromise our existence. Not without destroying everything we've worked for!
She spat out paste and dashed to the window, staring out to the run-down street, even as Evo struggled out of bed, bleary-eyed and snuffling.
“What –?” She heard a thump behind her, and turned to watch Evo prise himself off the floor. “What's happening?”
“I don't know.” Luelle chewed her lip, running a hand over her chin. The howling terrified her all the same.
Her heart gave a horrific lurch when a human sped down the street, yelling for help.
A werewolf pounced after him, taking giant strides that ate up the distance, squashing him to the ground. Snarling and spitting, the wolf ripped at his arm, taking the time to savage and flay his flesh.
Evo saw this as well. Elinor wasn't in the hotel, adding oil to the fire.
“Ehem.” Evo fumbled for his gun, clicked it ready and discreetly opened the window. He aimed at the werewolf who happily devoured the human, overcome by blood-lust, and squeezed the trigger twice. “Take that, fucker.”
The werewolf dropped like a stone on top of the human. Two more werewolves, drawn by the scent of the carnage, had loped in after their friend. This gave Evo the time to train his gun on them.
“Not sure if I can hit at this distance...”
He tried, anyway. Eight bullets later, one of the werewolves had dropped, and the other hobbled away, vanadium burning his blood.