“Show me,” Raul commanded as she stepped beside him. The witch was not distracted by his voice. Her gaze remained locked on the ball as she banged her staff onto the soil. Right away, the sphere began to spin and sparkle in a soft, deep green color. It spun faster, bringing a view of the woods on the shore he and Monica had been on until just a few minutes ago.
Fifteen wolves were lined next to one another, watching with pale impatience as he and Bryant were trying to kill each other. His rival’s wolf coloring was a faded black, whereas his own was a dark shade of gray. The battle had taken a toll on the gray wolf. Blood was streaming down his rear left leg, staining his fur. It looked battered and possibly broken. The wolf would not step on his paw.
The two lunged toward one another, growls filling the air, teeth and canines flashing white in the darkness. Raul’s jaws closed around his rival’s throat. His massive weight sent Bryant reeling back. Bryant’s painful yip did not deter him. The gray wolf pinned him down on the forest floor, snarling, determined to eliminate him. Bryant twitched as he tried to break free of the hold. Blood started to trail down his neck as Raul’s canines sank deeper and deeper in his flesh. His upper lip was raised one last time before the twitching ceased altogether. It was exactly as the witch predicted. Bryant lay dead beneath him. But before Raul could loosen his grip, another, white, massive wolf paced toward him, snarling and barking. It was Warrick, almost as big as Raul and with rage burning in his dark-green eyes. In this dark hour, the gray wolf sought allies, but sadly for him, he found none. Staying true to their alpha, the rest of the pack gathered around him.
Letting out a sad yip, he tucked his tail behind him as he dragged his injured paw across the forest floor. The gray wolf started forward, searching for an escape route. He brushed past the last one of his former comrades, but it was more than clear to him that he could not go far. His opponents were too many, and he was simply too tired and in too much debilitating pain. One by one, his stalkers lunged toward him, throwing his battered body onto the ground.
“All right, stop,” Raul said, running both hands through his hair. The sight of him getting mangled by his pack was more than he could handle. “You’ve made your point. I’ve got questions–lots of questions.”
“And I will answer each and every one of them,” Helena assured, once again holding out her hand. “Hold hands, you two.”
This time, Raul did not think twice. He obliged, the questions in his head growing exponentially as Monica slipped her hand into his. The three of them closed their eyes as a powerful gust of wind rustled through the forest, picking up dust and dry leaves from the ground. The flames danced before the witch, threatening to engulf her as they grew taller, and the air became thick with sparks. With each passing second, the world around Raul darkened as he embarked on perhaps the most important journey of his life.
Chapter Fifteen
“We’re here.”
Helena’s voice was precisely as Raul recalled: feathery; feminine. Still, there was a very, very big difference this time, in that its echo lingered. As he opened his eyes, he discovered the reason why. He, Monica, and Helena were in a large, but almost empty hall. There was a desk behind the witch, and a bookcase up against the wall to the right.
“And where exactly is ‘here?’” he asked with a hint of suspicion in his voice.
“We are still in Paxton, Raul,” Helena assured, nodding at the same time. “We’re right under the hillside. This place is buried deep inside the mountains. Worry not. None of your enemies can find you here. It is…,” she took a deep breath, dropping her gaze from him, “…your grandfather’s sanctuary.”
“Damn,” he gave a snort of derision, “you knew him, too?”
“Raul, please,” Monica raised her eyes to glare at him. “Be nicer to her. In case you haven’t noticed, she just saved your life.”
“I know. And I’m grateful for it,” Raul assumed a more mellow tone, still staring at the witch. “I just don’t have a clue why she did it. You said you knew my grandfather. How’s that possible? You can’t be more than twenty-five years old.”
“All is not as it seems,” Helena said as a mischievous smile spread across her face. “I am one hundred and seven years old, my young firstborn. I use witchcraft to stay young. I and dear old Roman used to be very close. But that was a long time ago. I met him long before he met your grandmother. I was merely an apprentice back then. For a while, he seemed to like the idea of me becoming a witch someday. But quite soon, his loved ones poisoned him against me. To them, I was nothing more than a greedy human–someone who could bring swift death to their beloved son.”
“The rule about mating with humans–did it exist then?” he inquired, taking one short step toward her.
“Yes,” Helena stated. “However, your pack did not really care much for enforcing it back then. Things were much less complicated. The town of Shandaken did not even exist eighty years ago. Automobiles were scarce. One would have to go to New York City just to encounter a human, and that was a great deal of trouble. I was the only human in a one hundred and fifty mile radius. At any rate, the pack decided to oversee the implementation of that rule just before your grandfather died.
He and I dated for a few weeks until his parents convinced him that I was no good for him. My heart was broken. You see, I was very much in love with him. Nearly a year later, I was a fledgling witch. As such, I was allowed to study Khalista’s prophecies, the first true witch ever to set foot in Paxton. Roman’s brother, Raul, died just months before you were born. They were really close. In actual fact, your grandfather loved his brother so dearly, he asked your father to name his firstborn after him. Days before his passing, I told Roman about the prophecy. He laughed at me. He wouldn’t believe me; he thought I was reveling in his misery, and that I was trying to avenge him for leaving me. He and Derek, his alpha at the time, were good friends. He told him about it. Derek decided to enforce the rule about humans upon Roman’s request.”
Helena dragged her gaze away from him. She made her way toward the library, her eyes locked on a thick book on the edge of the top shelf. It was so large that she had to reach both of her arms up. Taking it into her hands, she flipped through the dusty pages as she started toward Raul. By then, his curiosity had peaked. He couldn’t remember much of his grandfather, other than his hate for witches and their tactics, but whenever he asked him about them, he would not give him an answer. Roman preferred to either change the subject or avert his gaze from him and keep his mouth shut.
“Here,” Helena spoke, turning the book upside down to hand it over to him. “This part mentions you and her,” she added, looking up at Monica over her left shoulder. “Khalista started writing this book in 1717.”
“Now, wait just a minute.” Frustration infused Monica’s voice as she raised both hands to her chest. “A witch mentions me by name… in a prophecy?”
“Not quite.” Helena shook her head lightly. “Prophecies do not mention anybody by name. Read it. I am more than certain that you will know instantly.”
“Come on,” Raul silently mouthed to her. He had never seen her so upset. Monica was practically shivering. He didn’t need to look into her eyes to tell she was frightened. Her heartbeat was so loud and fast that he could hear it from five feet away. Still, he was just as confused as she was. He had no idea about the existence of a book of prophecies, let alone one that spoke about him and his potential mate. Raul only took her eyes off of her when she turned around and looked down at the open book.
“In three hundred years from now, on the full pink moon of spring, the firstborn of three brothers shall be rescued by a human healer. The very next day, ‘wise as a wolf’ will save the human healer.
Double twelves and double thirteens will adorn her name. She shall steal his heart; and he shall steal hers. Despite the hurdles they will face along the way, they shall not forsake one another.
Nevertheless, a fundamental question shall test her
resolve and her strength. The human healer will vanish from his life. ‘Wise as a wolf’ will have no other as his mate.”
“Double twelves and double thirteens. Monica Mills. Double ‘L.’ Double ‘M.’ Oh, my God,” Monica whispered, dropping her face into her hands.
“Full pink moon is in April; the night you found me. My name is Spanish for ‘wise as a wolf,’” Raul murmured, his jaw falling open in utter disbelief as his hands shook. “It can’t be.”
“I am afraid it is,” Helena sighed as her gaze shot up to meet his. “Every prophecy in that book has come true. Some of them are unclear, such as this one. What is this ‘fundamental question?’ ‘Will have no other as his mate’ can either mean your desire or your fate.”
“Excuse me,” Monica interjected, “is there a place where I can get some rest? I’m really tired.”
“Well, of course, dear.” Helena said in a sweet-sounding voice, turning her attention to her. “The bedrooms are at the end of the hallway.”
“Thank you.”
“Monica, wait,” Raul said as she turned around. “We need to talk about this.”
His words passed by her unheard. Not only did she not stop, but Monica strode toward the door across from her without even looking back at him, her footsteps echoing back at the walls of the room. The book slipped out of his grasp. He might have been dying to know more, but the things he had heard so far called for an immediate discussion. Raul wouldn’t let her leave like that. Whirling around, he sprinted across the hall, his heart racing in his chest as he recalled her shattered voice. Monica swung the brown door open, not moved by the sound of his hurried footfalls behind her. She stepped into a wide corridor with torches in silver cups scattered on either side of it. The flames reflected off her eyes as he spun her around to face him.
“Don’t, Raul!” she cried before he could even part his lips as a single tear streaked down her cheek. “Please, don’t! I want to be alone right now.”
Chapter Sixteen
Monica’s head was spinning. Her vision was blurry, eerily resembling the confusion in her mind. But her vision was not a problem. She could wipe away the tears at any second. Alas, she could not do the same with all the new information that had literally overwhelmed her. Under any other circumstance, she would love the idea of talking things through with Raul. He had given her everything she wanted from a man: honesty, respect, kind words and deeds. Still, this situation was much more complicated. It made even his darkest secret pale in comparison. Monica was in dire need of solitude. The silence would calm her jangling nerves and help her try to wrap her head around what she had seen and heard.
The supernatural dynamic, although completely unknown to her, had not scared her. Monica Mills was strong, and Raul had been like an angel on her shoulder. In her mind, he was by far the best man she had ever met, even if he was not entirely human. It would take her some time to discover his world, but she was a quick learner, and she believed she could do it as long as he was there with her. What had really scared the life out of her, however, was the fact that a very old prophecy had clearly mentioned her. Monica believed in fate. She did think that a relationship with Raul was meant to be, but never in her wildest dreams could she believe that witches were real and that they could predict her future, particularly with such accuracy. She was a scientist, a pragmatist. Yes, she put that aside when she met a man who could turn into a wolf, but the existence of witches was just beyond her understanding.
Nevertheless, the prophecy had an even more profound effect on her, one that shook her to her very core. Monica Mills would flee. The impact her actions would have on his life was not so clear, but sooner or later, she would break his heart. Plainly enough, it sounded impossible because the young doctor was falling for him. Raul Bradford was the embodiment of smartness, sexiness, kindness, and creativity. A few words from him were enough to make her heart pound in her chest. The warm look in his eyes convinced her that he was being honest with her. His looks were impeccable, and he was a great and thoughtful lover. By drawing her portrait, he could sweep her off her feet just like he had done in her house. Why would anyone want to walk away from all of that?
That simple question tormented her as she strode into one of the bedrooms. It reeked of old age. Chunks of paint were missing from the copper doorknob. Two oil lamps, one on each side of the room, provided some light. The planks on the floor had faded into light-brown; one of them in the lower left corner was cracked. Up against the wall, the large mirror on the dresser was covered in dust like the blue bedding on the bed. Monica swiped her hand across the glass surface. She could barely recognize herself. Her eyes were reddened, filled with fear of the unknown. The tears on her cheeks shone even in the dim light. Shutting her eyes, she took a deep, cleansing breath, in the hope that, just this once, an old prophecy would not come true. She opened them once more, recalling Raul’s compliments on them.
“Tiny globes of gold.”
“They’re sinking in despair,” Monica whispered to herself. “They’re more like battered ships right now, my good Raul.”
A glance down at the dresser told her that it contained a single drawer. She would not think twice. Anything she could find in there could distract her, and a distraction was much needed. Amid a stack of yellow envelopes, the edge of a small, wooden object stood out. It was a portrait of a gorgeous, blonde woman. The inscription at the bottom read:
“Martha Bradford
1907-1994”
Monica marveled at her beauty. Martha had crossed her arms over her chest. Her long, blonde hair was flipped on her shoulders. Her eyes were a sky-blue shade, the exact same color as Raul’s. Monica eased the portrait down on the dresser before rummaging through the envelopes. The one closer to the left edge of the drawer grabbed her attention. The cover read:
“To my firstborn grandson”
Monica picked it up, feeling her pulse rising. This letter might have been meant for Raul, but she would read it nonetheless.
“My dearest Raul,
There are so many things I want to say to you that I really don’t know where to start. You are only seven years old now, far too young to comprehend what I’m about to tell you. Unfortunately, by the time you are ready to grasp the meaning of this, I’m afraid I will be long gone.
You see, my death has already begun. It started on the very same day that I lost my Martha. That cliff in Shandaken took her away from me. Shifters can live up to 140 years, but she never had that chance, and I’m afraid I won’t, either. For our kind, a broken heart is what old age is for humans. We wither like flowers without water. Day by day, we lose our vitality, our strengths abandon us, we heal slower, much slower than we used to. It is precisely what is happening to me right now. I feel stretched thin. It doesn’t matter if I have all the love of the world from my children or my grandchildren. The loss of my Martha is unbearable.
Helena showed me the prophecy. I mocked her, I cursed at her, but deep down, I knew she was right. Every other prophecy had been fulfilled. I told Derek to enforce that rule. The threat of death would make you think twice before you went anywhere near that human. I am really sorry, my dear boy. It was the only way for me to keep you safe. Imagine what will happen if you fall in love with her. You will only be thirty years old. Losing her will bring swift death upon you. I am 91 years old; I got to live a life full of happiness and joy. But if you do cross paths with her, you won’t get any of that–no children; no family. You will die a young man, my boy. The last thing I want is my fate to befall you.
Do not get involved with that human, Raul. She will be your undoing.
Love,
Grandpa”
“No…,” a whisper of utter despair fled Monica’s lips as more tears rose up in her eyes. Slowly, she stepped back, unable to take her eyes off the letter as her hand shook. Here existed more information, more horrible news that proved to her the magnitude of her mistake. She should have taken Kate’s advice on the nig
ht she found Raul on her doorstep. He would have been taken to the hospital, and none of this would have happened. Hot tears toppled over the edges of her eyes as she realized that, whether she left him or not, his life would be cut short.
The old bed creaked as her knee hit the side. Monica sat down on it as her face fell into her hands. She longed to see Raul, to tell him how sorry she was for damning him like this, but her despair had crippled her, taking away all the strength she had in her muscles. Monica burst into loud, wailing sobs, thinking about the moment he had plucked her from the air as a sea of emotion flooded her heart.
“You saved my life. You protected me. So how will I repay you, my sweet Raul? I have become your curse, your death. My God, what have I done to you?”
Chapter Seventeen
Monica’s sleep was disturbed more than once that night. One minute, she would catch a glimpse of a tall blonde at the foot of the bed, and the next, she was closer, pulling her boots off her feet. Once more, the blonde stood outside her door and even waved at her with a big grin on her face. Indeed, she saw the same stranger plenty of times. She looked vaguely familiar, but Monica was so exhausted and emotionally drained that she could not ask her who she was. Why should she wake up? The girl seemed friendly and had even covered her with a blanket.
Still, at some point, Monica felt a faint tickle on her neck. Now, she was forced to open her eyes. The blonde was right there with her, sitting on the bed beside her, smiling down at her yet again.
“Rise and shine.” She winked at her. “Sorry for waking you, but you’ve been out for quite some time now. I’m Melissa, Raul’s little sister. I know this isn’t how you wanted to make my acquaintance, but my brother was afraid you’d freak out on him again.”
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