Fierce Awakenings

by Kristy Centeno

  Then again, the wolves’ activities could be related to something other than trouble. How was he to know for sure? He could ask the redheaded wolf-girl. What were the chances she didn’t know what was going on? She was from the area. From what he had seen, she was part of the pack living nearby so she could hold the answers to his questions.

  Doubts filled his mind as he finally arrived home and materialized inside the massive cave. For now, he had no choice but to wait and see what would happen next. If the werewolves were looking to start a war, it was only a matter of time before they came looking for trouble.

  The last thing he needed was trouble though, especially of the wolf kind.

  Tristan shook his head in frustration. Life had an odd sense of humor. For the past eighty years he had secluded himself inside a cave to exclude the outside world solely because he had found it boring and monotonous after continuous interaction with humans, and vampires alike for centuries. In less than a week everything had changed. He went from being the only creature around to making the best discovery in his long existence and as an added bonus now he had to contend with a possible war between vampire’s old enemies.

  Tristan scoffed. Added bonus? While he enjoyed a good battle every now and again, a war wasn’t something he looked forward to. He’d warred plenty in the past. He could think of better things he’d rather do with his time.

  He was about to lie on his bed when a familiar aroma filled his nostrils and they flared in response, registering the tantalizing scent of the she-wolf. Without pausing to think about his actions, Tristan faded to the outside of the cave and used his senses to determine where exactly she had been. He detected the she-wolf had been roaming around the cave’s entrance but had not gone inside.

  From what he could tell, she had been there but a few hours before. He couldn’t help but wonder if she had been looking for him or if she’d stumbled upon his home by accident.

  She was here and I missed her!

  Chapter Ten

  Vexed by that fact, Tristan dragged his feet on the ground and spun around in the direction the scent led. If he followed it, would it lead him to her? He had little doubt that it would. Without pausing to give it more thought, Tristan started for the woods, following the girl’s essence, which lingered on the ground, trees, and in the air even after several hours had passed since she’d left.

  There was nothing like the intoxicating scent of an attractive female to entice an interested male. And he was most certainly interested. Enough to go in search of her.

  In spite of his mind’s protests, Tristan ran through the forest, using speed as he never did before. Had anyone seen him, they would have thought him to be nothing but a passing blur. His long white hair blew in the wind with each step he took and his silent heart quivered with the possibility of seeing the wolf-girl.

  Tristan kept running, sidestepping trees and animals that were in his path as he moved forward. Even if the girl’s scent didn’t lead him to her hiding place, the desire to see her would have. As he faded away from Madelia, all he could think of was how much he wanted to see the she-wolf. Now, he was just moments away from getting his wish.

  It only took him a few minutes to reach a small cabin. That particular cabin had been previously occupied by humans—he knew that because he had scared them into leaving. After discovering that the two male humans hunted animals just for the fun of it, he drove them away without hurting them. The animal population was already in trouble and having two inconsiderate jerks maiming them just for the heck of it wasn’t something Tristan tolerated, especially since he needed those very creatures to sustain himself so he didn’t have to feed on humans.

  Unsure of what to expect, Tristan closed his eyes and concentrated deeply so he could determine how many people/beasts were inside. After just a few seconds he could tell there was only one, the wolf-girl. He smiled and faded into the small structure. He was amazed by how nice and tidy the place was. For some unknown reason he’d always imagined werewolves to be unclean and most definitely unorganized, but judging by the cabin’s appearance, he was wrong in his assumption.

  Since the place was so small, he had no trouble finding his prize. She was fast asleep on the queen sized bed, her body partially covered by a thin sheet. Just like the first time he’d seen her sleeping form, she wore a pair of shorts and a tank top, much to his approval. Of course, he could do with her not wearing anything at all but beggars can’t be choosers.

  Tristan approached the bed quietly as he watched for any indication that she was waking. So far, she seemed to be in a deep sleep. He tried invading her dreams, but found that she guarded herself well even in her sleep. Shrugging, he stepped closer and sat on the bed next to her. He waited to see if she would stir or wake up but she didn’t. Confident she hadn’t picked up on his presence; Tristan accommodated his body so he was lying on his side, facing her.

  The beauty of her relaxed features caused the air to leave his lungs completely. She was so incredibly beautiful he couldn’t help but stare at her. His eyes traveled downward to her bosom. Even with the tank top covering her chest he could see they were round and full, perfect for some much desired inspection. Her soft skin, wide hips, plump lips, and curvaceous body inspired his manhood to stir as he scrutinized the sleeping beauty.

  In his haste to find his prize he had completely forgotten that he was half naked and he wondered how she would take that fact once she awoke, because he had every intention of waking her up. As much fun as it was to lie there and watch her, he preferred her awake and glaring at him. She was beautiful when she was angry.

  Tempted by the natural glow of her olive-colored skin, the soft curves of her body, and the tantalizing aroma of jasmine drifting to his nostrils, Tristan lifted his hand and skimmed his fingers down her arm.

  With an unexpected move, the she-wolf launched at his neck with a handful of razor sharp claws. Startled and downright impressed, Tristan stared at the beautiful girl as she finally opened her eyes and sat up in bed.

  “Well, well, well,” he hissed. “No one has ever caught me off guard before. This is certainly a first for me.” He caressed the hand locked around his neck.

  “What are you doing here?” she roared, her emerald eyes glowing as they glared at him.

  “Forgive my sudden intrusion. I was so distracted by your sleeping form that I forgot who I was dealing with.” His tone of voice had a certain sultry hint underneath.

  She released him and let out a long sigh, scooting up the bed until her back was firmly planted against the headboard. “I could have ripped your head off!”

  “Didn’t you want to?” he asked with an arch of the brow.

  “Not on purpose, I didn’t,” she admitted.

  The admission pleased him. How could it not? If she didn’t want to instantly decapitate him then he could assume she didn’t loath him. “My apologies for not knowing how to intrude on someone else’s sleep.” He smiled. “I must learn how to do it properly.”

  “How did you find me?” Her gaze met his.

  “I drank from you, so I can find you wherever you are.”

  She appeared surprised by that piece of information. “Is that why you’re here?”

  “No. I’m not here to drink from you, although the idea appeals greatly to me. But alas, I don’t take by force what has not been offered to me.”

  Victoria glanced down and swallowed hard at the sight of his half naked body lying atop the bed. She hadn’t been aware of his state of undress until he happened to shift positions to lay on his back with both hands behind his head.

  “I’m sure that has never stopped you before,” she muttered, unsure of whether or not she was angry with him for showing up and disturbing her peace. It was highly difficult to stay angry when a man sculpted like the best of statues lay half naked in bed with her.

  “Don’t presume to know me just because I’m a vampire,” he retorted with a hiss. “You know nothing about me. Not how I live, how I hunt, what I hun
t, and certainly not how I choose to exist.”

  “You’re honestly going to tell me you’ve never killed anyone?”

  Tristan let out an exasperated sigh then directed his eyes to the ceiling above.

  “I never explain myself to others,” he said. “In your case, I will make an exception.” Tristan turned his attention back to Victoria, looking at her as he spoke. “When I first turned into what I am, I killed many, humans and vampires alike. At first, most of the killings were done for revenge only, then because of bloodlust. If you were to ask me how many lives I took during those first few years, I wouldn’t be able to give you a correct answer. I lost count how many victims my rampage brought down. I was young and overcome with power, so I didn’t stop to think on what I was doing. I only understood that I hungered and the only way I could satiate that hunger was to take innocent lives.” Never in his life did he feel like such a fool. He had never cared enough for anyone to feel the need to explain his past actions, but this girl, she cared about him, and that bothered him. “It was never in my plans to become a killer, but it happened. I don’t make excuses for myself. I tell it how it is. I’m sorry that that obviously bothers you.”

  She averted her eyes.

  “But if it makes you feel any better, I haven’t killed anyone in years.” He watched for her reaction, relieved when he saw no condemnation in her eyes. “You’ve been quick to point an accusing finger in my direction, but what about you?”

  He watched as she straightened her posture, jutting her chin forward defensively.

  “I have never killed—”

  “On purpose?”

  She shook her head vehemently. “No. Never.”

  Tristan cocked his head to the side. “You’re not one of the maneaters?”

  “No. I’m not.”

  His forehead furrowed with her response. “How interesting,”

  “What’s interesting about it?”

  Tristan sat up and flicked his long white hair over his shoulder. “I find the split genes in werewolves very interesting. I have heard of the maneaters. It’s a highly debatable subject.”

  “Debatable indeed.” Victoria offered little else and Tristan couldn’t help but wonder what was on her mind. He tried prying, but she blocked him out immediately.

  They remained quiet for several seconds, each locked in a silent battle with the other. Finally, after what seemed like hours instead of seconds, Victoria spoke softly. “Do you even remember what being human is like? I’ve never been purely human so I don’t know what that’s like, but you were human once.”

  “I will answer your question, but first answer me this, what does one like you feel?”

  “What do you mean?” She grew flustered.

  “Well, do you feel like you’re divided inside? Does one being rival the other?” he asked, curiosity taking the best of him. “For us, there comes a point in time where we tend to lose our humanity and if we’re not careful we can become a true predator. But you…how does it work for you?”

  “When I’m in my human form like right now, I feel much like I think an ordinary human would, except if my emotions get out of control the beast immediately wants to take over. In a way, I guess you can say that one being rivals the other because if I’m in my wolf form, my human side wants to take over, so yes, they fight with each other constantly.” Victoria sighed, and then glanced over to where Tristan listened intently. “Some, like me, experience an overwhelming desire at times to shift and we have to or it becomes painful. I know it’s something you wouldn’t understand, but it’s almost as if nature itself calls for the wolf to join it. If I stay in my human form too long, the beast sort of demands to be let loose.” She paused briefly before adding, “We call it The Pull because it feels like some invisible force is pulling the beast from within. Does that satisfy your curiosity?”

  He nodded. “Unbelievably so.”

  “Is that all you wanted to know?” she asked.

  “No. How does the full moon affect you?”

  “It just makes the need to shift stronger. It also triggers mated couples to…”

  A smile played at his lips. Why couldn’t she say the word? “Have sex?”

  “And reproduce,” she hurried to add.

  “I see,” his eyes gleamed with amusement.

  “It’s your turn.”

  Ah, yes, her question. “To be honest, I don’t remember much about my past life. The life I had before I turned into a vampire has faded into the deepest corners of my crowded mind, making it difficult for me to recall much of it. What I do remember and force myself not to forget is my family.”

  Tristan hated the fact that it was so easy for him to talk to her and he didn’t even know her. In spite of hating that he was so open with her, he kept talking, satisfying her curiosity.

  “What were they like?”

  “Hardworking, honest, humble farmers,” Tristan rested his forearms on his thighs, momentarily pausing as he recalled the only people he’d ever loved. A millennia had passed since he last saw them, but the memories were no less painful. “My father was poor but he worked hard every day of his life to provide my mother with a good home. My mother was sweet and kind—not perfect—but just what a child would want in a mother. My siblings and I had a good life.”

  Pulling her knees up to her chest, Victoria wrapped her arms around her shins and asked, “What changed?”

  “One man’s avarice and jealousy over what my mother and father had, love for each other. He never forgave my mother for choosing my father over him despite the fact that he had money when my father had none. One day he came to our small farm and destroyed our lives. He burned everything we had to the ground, killed my family, and took me prisoner. He sold me into slavery, where I was later bought by a vampire lord and his mistress. After months of feeding off me, they tried to finally put me out of my misery. In her haste to get rid of me, the mistress forgot one very important rule. Never bite a mortal and then leave him to die without making sure that when you walk away, he’s actually dead.” Tristan smiled then but it lacked mirth. “I took my revenge.” His tone was very matter-of-fact, making it clear he wasn’t proud of what he had done but he didn’t regret it, either.

  “I’m sorry to hear about your loss.”

  “Don’t be.”

  Victoria turned tossed a confused look in his direction.

  “They have it better than I did. They never got to see what I became. They would have suffered had they seen me like this.” His hands tightened into fists. It was the first time in hundreds of years he had spoken about his family and it was never easy.

  “Were you ever married?” she asked, easing another smile out of him. What better way to change the subject than to ask something so distracting?

  “No. My father was sick at the time and he needed me around, so I became the head of the household. I couldn’t leave knowing how much they depended on me, so I didn’t think it fit to take a wife.” Folding his arms over his chest, he added, “I have no mate.” If she had any doubts as to whether he was taken or not his statement would clear it up for her. “Anything else you want to know about me?”

  “No,” she replied with a quick bow of the head.

  “Well, do you mind if I ask something?”

  “Go ahead.” She looked at him and held his gaze.

  “What’s the story?”

  She flinched at the question and it did not go unnoticed by him.

  “There’s not much more to me than what you see.”

  “Why don’t I believe you?” His eyes narrowed as he stared at her. She was holding something back, he could tell that much. Reaching out with his left hand, he gently caressed part of her exposed thigh and was completely surprised by the fact that she didn’t swat his hand away.

  “That’s your problem, not mine.” She squeezed her eyes shut and tilted her head back a little, exposing her long neck for his eyes to feast upon.

  Tristan could barely hold himself back from pounci
ng upon her and sinking his incisors in her delicately smooth neck. It was all he could to keep his body from acting on impulse.

  “From what I’ve heard, female werewolves don’t usually live alone.” His fingers skimmed the length of her thigh, moving up and down as his gaze intently watched for her reaction. “So, why are you here alone?”

  “What’s it to you?” she asked without opening her eyes.

  “Curiosity.”

  “I belong to a pack of which I’m not very fond.” She released some air and brought her hands to her abdomen, where she intertwined her fingers. Tristan could sense her nervousness grow and he enjoyed watching her discomfort.

  “The pack or the rules they force you to abide by?”

  Her eyes popped open and she glanced to her right directly at him. “Both.”

  “Why are you here alone?” His exploring fingers continued to touch her delicate skin, slowly moving up her thigh as he waited for her to shove him away.

  “I…left…my pack.” She gulped, but didn’t remove his fingers from her body.

  “For good?” he asked.

  “Not quite sure yet.”

  “You’re thinking about rejoining them?” he pried, hoping for a more solid answer.

  “Maybe,” she bit down on her lower lip, her gaze mirrored uncertainty as she stared at him. “I have yet to decide what’s the right thing to do.”

  He wanted to know more, but she wouldn’t provide details. When he tried scanning through her thoughts however, he got nothing. She blocked him out each and every time.

  “Then why bother leaving?” he inquired.

  “You wouldn’t understand the reasons.” Her lips quivered and her skin grew considerably warmer as he caressed his way down her thigh to her knee, and to her calves before moving his hand up again.

  “Why don’t you try me?” he insisted, hoping she would give more information away.

  “Why are you so interested? Don’t you think the fact that we’re conversing like a couple of old friends, when really we should be slaughtering each other, is a little…” she paused, apparently searching for the right word, “…awkward?”