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First to Fall

Page 15

by Alexa Whitewolf


  “Theory about what?”

  She smiles at my grumble, though I find nothing funny in the situation. “About why you’re so thick-headed and clash with Lucas, despite being his beta.”

  “But you just said it: I’m thick-headed. We’ve always had our issues, this didn’t start with you.”

  “Perhaps you're right.” Luz lifts a paper. “But there’s a reason for it.”

  Too impatient to wait, I snatch them out of her hands and pour over the words. It’s Romanian pages translated to English, riddled with mistakes from whatever translator they used. Despite the jumble of words, I realize I’m staring at a history of Romanian Kings.

  I glance back up and Luz, who’s biting her thumb nail while waiting. “What is this?”

  She blows an exasperated breath at my confused expression and grabs the papers back. “If you’d had half the patience until I finish.... Yeesh.” She plops down on the floor, spreading the papers everywhere. “All right, here’s the gist of it. Finn and I were in New York City, hunting through adoption records. Your adoption records. And we discovered your last name isn’t Kosta, like your adopted parents let you believe. It’s Konstantin. They must have thought it was too long or something.”

  I frown at the piece of information, trying out the new name. “Dominic Konstantin... Has a nice ring to it, I guess. So what?”

  Luz shifts in place, then says, “Your parents had you while still young, and they were good people. Both were teachers at a local elementary school, until a house fire in the middle of winter killed them.” Her eyes search mine, filled with tears. “You had a dog as a small child, and he woke you up in time to save you. But your parents... They died of smoke inhalation.” A pause, then, “I’m so sorry, Dom.”

  Maybe it’s because I’m no longer an orphan, but an adult who found his other half...Or maybe because I have my pack? Either way, the revelation doesn’t feel earth shattering, but rather like closure. When I speak, I’m surprised to find my voice even-toned. “Don’t be. On some level, I think I expected something terrible had to take them away from me. It’s funny... Even though I can’t remember their faces, their love is something that I can’t forget.”

  Luz moves closer, then gently pulls me into a hug. I breathe in her scent, and it calms my longing for a family, at least for the moment. Then I make the mistake of glancing at the paper closest to her knee, which looks suspiciously like a family tree.

  I pull away from her, lifting up the paper so I can get a better read. “This isn’t an adoption record.”

  It’s a diagram, of houses. In Romania, Wallachia back then, the land was divided amongst houses. Akin to nobles, they were the aristocracy of the time. There’s a particular house that’s circled in red, and my heart nearly stops. Drăculeşti—House of Basarab.

  “I...I know that name.” My eyes meet hers, and this time the words choke in my throat. If this is true, if I’m related to that house... The image of the monsters from the forest flashes in my mind. There’s no doubt then as to how they’re my brethren.

  Luz tilts her head at my expression, a slight frown creasing her forehead. Then she peaks over my shoulder to see what has me so stunned. “Oh, that. You’re looking at the wrong thing, silly.” She crawls in my lap to reach the paper, pointing just under the rectangle I’d been staring at. “There.”

  My eyes catch what I missed the first time around. Vlad III.

  Cue my jaw dropping, and Luz laughing as if it’s the funniest thing in the world. “That’s...”

  “Vlad the Impaler, I know! Isn’t it amazing?”

  I don’t think amazing is the word I’d use, considering my gifts. “We’re talking about the source of all Dracula legends.”

  “Mhmm.” Her sparkling green eyes tell me there’s more to the story, but I’m too hung up on this to push forward.

  “Luz... This can’t be.”

  “There’s more!”

  I get up from the ground, pacing a few feet, then turning back to her. My hands are shaky when I run them through my hair, still trying to wrap my mind around this. “This is impossible. I can’t be related to Vlad freaking the Impaler.”

  Luz rolls her eyes, hunting for another paper. “You are, and you can get over it now. It’s something to proud of, not something to fear.”

  “Lucrezia.” This is the first time in close to a year I’ve called her by her full name, and it’s enough to get her attention. “You don’t understand. If this is true, then those creatures in the forest—”

  “We’ll get to that.”

  Say what? When I voice something a little more intelligible than that out loud, Luz waves me off. “It’s not as big of a deal as you’re making it.”

  I gape at her, unable to rein in my shock. “I’m a werewolf! And you’re telling me I’m related to a vampire?”

  “Vârcolac and strigoi.”

  Her words freeze me in my steps. “What...?”

  Luz doesn't glance up from the papers, talking out of the corner of her mouth. “The correct terms are vârcolac and strigoi, if you go by Romanian folklore. Though, technically, Finn says Tristan calls the bad vârcolacs by their Greek name, vrykolakas, but we’ll get to those later.”

  I grab her shoulders and force her to stay still. “How do you know all this?”

  “Your buddies talk. A lot.”

  I scowl. “And you’ve had time to talk to them?”

  “Yup.” She notices my bemused expression and quickly brushes her lips against mine, as if consoling a sulking child. Her kiss distracts me, as does her contaminating joy.

  “All right, hit me with the rest of it.”

  She pulls back on her heels and reaches behind me to pull the paper she wanted. “There’s another thing about Vlad, other than all the stories of vampires and impaling people. Read this.”

  I squint where she points, making out one word. “Voivode. What’s that?”

  “See, we took a while to figure it out. But it means prince. He was prince of Wallachia.”

  “How is it you know so much more about my country’s history than I do?”

  Luz laughs at my annoyed tone. “Because I haven’t been busy running around chasing rabbits. And there’s a thing called a library, and internet.”

  My scowl doesn’t improve with her explanation, but she ignores me. “There’s more. As prince of Wallachia, Vlad’s line was assured by his own offspring. Cue a few centuries down, and your great-great-great-grandfather emerged from the lineage. Born out of wedlock, a bastard to one of Vlad’s offspring, he was a piece of work, but still technically had heregie—heredity, blue blood.” I know she means the last part for my benefit. And despite it, I find this history interesting.

  Who would have thought it explained my issues with authority? Still, something doesn’t make sense. “Luz, but we’re still talking about Dracula here. His genes would carry vampire traits, not werewolf.”

  “Yeah, that’s what Finn thought, too. Until I found this.” She reveals yet another piece of paper, this one a study published by an old Romanian hermit. “Vlad was a carrier of both genes. That’s why he was able to change shapes. Remember stories of him turning into a bat, or a wolf? He was a shifter who lived off blood.”

  I motion for her to continue, curious to see what else Luz unearthed.

  “This is where the story kind of breaks apart, until Finn found a link back to it. So this old relative of yours, after a few crimes and such, was excommunicated from his community by a Romanian priest. Some said at the time it was a political move, destined to kill the last of the line of Vlad the Impaler.”

  Her blue eyes settle on me, but I can only shake my head. “I had no idea about any of this.”

  “I know.” Her tone is soft, and she rests her forehead against mine. “Should I keep going?”

  I won’t lie, I hesitate. There is that old saying about leaving dead ghosts to lie in the past... But I was always a stubborn bastard, and today no more so.

  “Go on.”

/>   Luz nods, then picks up another paper. “While Finn was digging this up, I researched werewolves. And there’s a lot of your species, I mean... It’s kind of mind-boggling, what different abilities they have. There’s even some that are more like shifters and can turn into birds!”

  I tap her nose to get her attention, much as I enjoy her excited tone. Luz blinks, then focuses back on the paper. “Right. Anyway, so this excommunicated relative. In the legends, they always say that if a poor soul dies excommunicated, then he returns to life as a vârcolac. Of course, they forget to explain you need to have the gene carried through the family.”

  “Which was the case for my great-great-whatever, because he was a descendant of Vlad.”

  “Exactly. So after he died, rather than move on, his soul was tortured and wouldn’t let go of the body. He was resurrected as the undead and haunted his entire community. This led to the priest himself being excommunicated, and the town by comparison. The then-king dispatched a group of soldiers to kill everyone and cleanse the area, but it was already too late. They had died at the hands of your relative and returned as vârcolacs. This was the first full tribe of them in that area, and they roamed the land recruiting many more with them.”

  Images of blood-thirsty monsters, what we called vrykolakas, fill my head. As if catching onto my thoughts, Luz says, “Vrykolakas. I should really be using Tristan’s term for them, it seems much more appropriate.”

  “So they’re also descendants from Vlad’s lineage, like me?”

  Luz meets my gaze, and for a moment I fear she might not have connected the dots yet. That I could have become like that. But she nods, biting her lip. “Yeah. They’re the rotten apples, so to speak.”

  My relief at her taking all this in stride is short-lived as I recall there’s a pack of them living not too far from us, and my arms wrap around Luz’s waist. She leans into me, lost in the story.

  “Somewhere down this whole line of carnal consumption, more vrykolakas appearing and more death, the Church accepted one of them back into the fold. There are two records of the story, one saying that a priest exorcized him, and the other that the vrykolakas found his own salvation through some mysterious benefactor.” She looks at me again. “No one really knows what happened. But the bottom line is, he was cured.”

  “And he lived happily ever after?”

  “Not quite...” Luz bites her lip, then says, “He became a missionary for peace. His life’s work was to cure vrykolakas of their evil and turn them onto the right path. The studies I read, I mean, they say these monsters can actually be turned back to regular vârcolacs, through exorcism and a baptism from the Church. Your relative, he helped a lot of them... And some not.”

  “Okay... So what’s the direct link to me?”

  “That guy was your great-grandfather.”

  The words pass my ears, but I take a moment to assimilate them, let alone understand what Luz is saying. “He cured people?”

  “Mhmm.”

  “So that’s why I’m... not a monster?”

  Her eyes soften, and she melts into me further. “You’d never be a monster to me, Dom. But yes, his salvation ensured every child born with his blood was safe.”

  “So there’s more of my family out there?”

  Luz taps her chin at that, hesitating. “The little we could find was an uncle and cousin, but they’re... vrykolakas. They sinned and in their life of crime were killed. Only, instead of dying, they rose as undead.”

  “That’s what happens to my kind?”

  Luz nods, her gaze unwavering from mine. “Finn says that’s what Tristan saw, in the wars he fought. It was why he guessed what you were way before you said anything.”

  Fuck.

  I move Luz off me and get to my feet again. There’s restlessness inside me, but I refuse to let it be. “Is there more?”

  “Yes... But don’t you see it, yet?”

  “See what?”

  “Dom... This is why you weren’t backing down from the fight with Lucas!” Luz gets to her feet, her eyes shining again. “Your lineage descends from a prince of Wallachia. The Impaler. Your relatives have all been heads of packs, leaders in some way or another. Dom... Being a subordinate is impossible for you.”

  “Stop.”

  I know what she’s getting at, yet I fear hearing it. But Luz is too far gone, the excitement almost vibrating in her voice. “You could be alpha of your own pack!”

  I stare at her, my mind going haywire again. “Wow. You must really want an alpha for a mate, huh?”

  She freezes at the tone of my voice, and I can tell she’s taking a mental step back, analyzing my body language.

  “That’s not it at all,” Luz stutters, but I’m shaking my head and walking towards the door. I need to be away from her, to think about this. “Dom, wait!”

  My hand is on the door knob, but I take a deep breath. “This arrangement isn’t working anymore.”

  “No, it isn’t.”

  Luz’s words surprise me enough to turn around, and I see the relief in her expression. She steps nearer, closing the distance between us one inch at a time. “I don’t want to pretend to be with you anymore.”

  Did she... My wolf pokes his head, but I’m zeroing in on Luz’s movements like my breathing depends on it.

  “I want to be with you, period.”

  My hand drops from the knob, and I’m already taking a step towards her. “What did you just say?”

  “You were right about Lucas, but not about why I stepped between you in that fight. You didn’t let me explain that day, but it was because of you. I couldn’t stand to see you hurt. Dom, I want you, only you and—”

  I move before she can react, my hand wrapping around her neck and pulling her close. Then my lips are cutting off her air supply, and I don’t plan to let her up for a long, long time.

  Lucrezia

  After a make-out session that leaves my toes curling and every nerve in my body going haywire, Dom says I seem tired and we should rest. While I crawl into bed, he hops atop the blankets, crossing his arms under his head.

  A heartbeat later, I move closer, resting my head on his chest and listening to the rise and fall of his breathing. “I missed you too, you know.”

  One hand drops around my waist, pulling me tighter. “Good. Because I wanted to rip Finn’s head for taking off with you.”

  I can’t help my chuckle against him, though a peek up to his expression shows me he's not amused. My body stretches until I can brush my lips against his, then meet his blue eyes full on. “This coming from the player of Rockland Creek?”

  He rolls his eyes, scoffing. “You give me far too much credit. People talk a lot, Luz. Doesn’t mean they always tell the truth.”

  I hesitate to ask my next question, but I do anyway. “So you haven’t been as...prolific as they make you be?”

  His expression softens at that and he kisses my forehead. “Nope.” He waits a beat, then arches an eyebrow. “This is serious territory we’re getting into. So you meant it when you said you’re done pretending?”

  I nod, wrapping my arm around him as far as I can reach and burrowing my head in his chest. “I think I’ve always known deep down that it was only lust I felt for Lucas. But it was easier to accept that than the fact I might be falling in love with you. That meant I had to share myself with you, and all my vulnerabilities.”

  Though I do my best to avoid his gaze, Dom lifts my chin with his index. “You know you can always trust me.”

  “I do. But it wasn’t easy. Now that we’re here though, I mean to be in it completely, whatever that entails.” I search his gaze, biting my lip. “What does that entail, exactly?”

  Dom drops my chin, throwing his head back and looking up at the ceiling. “Lucas’ approval.”

  I raise myself to my elbows. “Even with everything I told you?”

  “Sort of. Here’s the thing, Luz. A lone wolf is dangerous, reckless. I’ve been there, and something settled in me when I beca
me part of this pack. Though I’m not a fan of obedience, I’ve been able to make do. Lucas’ little games where we’re concerned will have to stop, make no mistake about that. But I also want to stay... I like it here. I like being where I am, with you.”

  I nod, understanding on some level. “But what I told you...”

  “It helps fight the compulsion, meaning I don’t intend to let you go anymore. And we will be upfront with Lucas and let him do whatever.”

  “What about claiming me?” He lifts his head, looking down at me in surprise. “That’s what you said the night when we... When you...” A blush creeps on my cheeks and I trail off.

  “Do you understand what you’re asking me?”

  Something in his tone has me fight my embarrassment and meet Dom's expression. There’s an intensity in his gaze, same as what I saw there that night, and my breath stops for a second. The thing is, I know what it means—I can guess. And I want it so much it scares me.

  Dom must read conflict on my expression because he cups one cheek and runs his thumb over it. “Don’t worry, iubirea mea. When you’re ready, and only then, we’ll talk about claiming.”

  I gulp, nodding my head in assent. Dom’s eyes flash in response, and I can feel his wolf held at bay. Then he smiles, and it warms my insides, making me melt against him again.

  “What does that mean, iubirea mea?”

  “My love.”

  I grin against his chest, then the rise and fall lulls me to sleep.

  ∞ ♦ ∞

  The next morning, the smell of bacon and eggs wakes me up. After a shower and a change of clothes, I tiptoe into the kitchen. Dom’s seated at my tiny dining table, flicking through his phone without much purpose.

  He looks up even though I make no noise and grins as his eyes take me in—yoga pants, t-shirt and sneakers. “Breakfast?”

  I glance at the table full of enough food for five people and laugh. “Are you trying to fatten me up?”

  “Maybe.”

  A chuckle escapes me as I walk over and kiss him, then take a seat at the table and fill up a plate with goodies. “So I take it this is my reward for all the info I dumped on you last night?”

 

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