by Lana Melyan
Craig was very quiet at breakfast the next morning, and it didn’t go unnoticed.
“Are you alright, Craig?” asked Gabriella.
“I’m fine, just didn’t sleep much,” answered Craig, avoiding her eyes.
“You didn’t have any complications yesterday, did you?” asked Samson, looking first at Craig, then at Riley.
“Actually, it went well, we arrived in time,” said Riley, swallowing his food. “The wolf was in the backyard of a manor, and there were people outside.”
“Did it hurt anybody?”
“Yes. One man was injured, but he wasn’t from that house. I found him not far from it, on a tree. His legs had deep scratches and he’d lost a lot of blood, but he wasn’t bitten.”
“Are you sure about that?” Fray scoffed. “Or you are just so sensitive that you didn’t dare to kill him?”
If a human were bitten by a werewolf, at the next full moon he would transform into a werewolf, as well, and there wasn’t any way to stop that process. There was no cure against it. Fray killed them right away, without bothering to find out if it was a scratch or a bite.
“I can tell a scratch from a bite. Not everybody is like you, ready to finish people off just because they’re bleeding,” Riley snapped in reply.
“I’m doing the right thing,” said Fray aggressively. “You can never be sure about how they got injured. We’ve made this mistake before.”
“It’s better to fix the mistake later than to kill an innocent man. I thought our mission was to protect people, am I wrong?”
Fray squeezed the silver fork angrily in his hand, then threw it on the plate. Kicking the chair aside, he stood up and stormed out of the room. A moment later, his horse galloped out of the yard and up the hill.
“Where are you going?” asked Samson, who was now watching Fray from the dining room’s window.
“Away,” answered Fray.
“You’ve been away for weeks; you just got back. What if we need you?” asked Samson.
“You know how to find me.”
Samson returned to the table and sat down.
“He’s always so angry. You have to talk to him, find out what’s bothering him,” said Gabriella.
“I tried, several times. He doesn’t want to talk.” Turning to Riley, he changed the subject. “You said there were people outside. Did they see the wolf?”
Riley glanced at Craig, then at Hanna, and then reached for his glass of water.
“I don’t know.” He drank the water and put the empty glass back. “It was Craig who took down the wolf.”
Craig took a deep breath.
“There was a young lady in the yard,” he said, leaning back on the chair. “I wanted to convince her to go inside, but it was too late. The wolf was there and he jumped right toward her. I had no choice, I had to act.”
“How much did she see?” asked Samson in a serious tone.
“The wolf scratched my face right in the beginning, and by the time I had dealt with him. . . She saw my wound heal.”
“And she didn’t run away?” asked Ruben. “I mean, when she saw the wolf, what did she do?”
“No.” Craig shook his head and leaned forward again. “She could have run, but she didn’t. She saw him turn back to a human. She knows that it was a werewolf.”
“Don’t worry,” said Samson. “I’ll ask Emily to erase her memory.”
Emily was a witch who helped them sometimes. If Emily erased Eleanor’s memory, she would forget him and everything that happened last night.
“No,” said Craig quietly, staring at his empty plate. “Don’t.” He looked up at Samson and saw that everybody’s eyes were fixed on him.
“Oh, Craig,” whispered Gabriella, looking at him fondly. “After all these years.”
“I know. But this time it’s different. She knows. After all that happened in front of her eyes, after what she saw . . . it didn’t frighten her. She wants to meet me. If she hasn’t changed her mind, of course.”
“I don’t think she’ll change her mind. I saw how she looked at you.” Riley smiled broadly.
“You saw her?” asked Ruben.
“I was there, too, if you remember?”
“But you just said—”
“Is she pretty?” interrupted Hanna.
“I was there only a minute, but I saw her. She is very beautiful.”
“I have to go.” Craig stood up.
“I hope it works out for you,” said Samson.
Craig nodded and left.
When Craig arrived at the familiar forest, it was still early, and he got off of the horse and walked the rest of the way. Yellow but not yet dry, the leaves covering the forest floor softened his footsteps. The horse snorted, scaring a scarlet tanager. The bird stopped singing and turned its little head to one side then the other, listening before taking off and disappeared behind the foliage.
Eventually Craig reached the lodge. He led the horse to a tree and hung the bridle on a broken branch sticking out of it.
He opened the lodge door and looked inside to make sure nobody was there.
The place was set up for hunters. A long table with two benches stood beside the window with its narrow end attached to the wall. On one side of the table were shelves containing wooden and ceramic tableware. On the other side was a small fireplace. At the far end of the room were two wide sleeping benches with bearskin draped over them.
He stepped outside and sat on the porch stairs.
Craig’s head was full of thoughts, and they all argued with each other. Was coming here the right thing to do? She wasn’t like any woman he’d met before. Yesterday, she seemed all right with the fact that he was different. But what if she woke up this morning and decided the idea of meeting with somebody like him was stupid and dangerous?
He heard a mild clop. Sitting sidesaddle, Eleanor looked at him with a compelling smile. She wore a sky blue gown with pink and dark blue flowers at the edge of the skirt and a dark blue cloak. Her dark-brown curls fell over her shoulders.
Warmth spread through Craig’s body. He stood up slowly and walked down the porch stairs. Eleanor stopped her horse right in front of him, and Craig held out his hands. He gently took hold of her slim waist and helped her down. When he put her on the ground, she looked into his eyes.
“I turned around and you were gone.”
“That was rude. I’m sorry, but I had to.”
“I understand. Mr.. . . ?”
“My name is Craig.”
“Thank you for saving my life, Craig,” she said, and stepped closer.
Craig’s heart hammered.
“Thank you,” he whispered, putting his arms around her. She didn’t resist.
“For what?” she asked. Her eyes still fixed on his, she put her hands on his chest.
“For coming. I was afraid that you would change your mind over the night. After what you saw yesterday.”
“From the moment I saw you, it was like I found something I was sure was mine, something I have been looking for a long time. What I saw after made that feeling even stronger.”
Pulling her to his chest with one hand and brushing her silky curls with another, he kissed her. She shivered in his arms when their lips met and leaned closer.
They sat in the lodge on the soft, fleecy bearskin, Craig with his back against the wall and Eleanor resting her head on his chest. He kissed her palm, then slowly turned her and kissed her in the corner of her lips, which were the color of ripe raspberries.
“Eleanor, what you saw yesterday. . . There is more about me that you should know.”
He lightly touched her cheek, and his lips followed his fingers.
“I supposed so. There is something I have to tell you too.” Her lips smiled, but her eyes didn’t. “Let’s leave all talking for tomorrow.” She ran her fingers through Craig’s hair and kissed him.
Craig couldn’t stop smiling the whole way back. He felt relief and breathing became so easy, like somebody had opened
spare valves in his lungs. With a slow trot the horse approached the castle where Riley, Ruben, Gabriella, and Hanna were playing football.
“Somebody looks happy,” said Riley, looking at Craig.
The moment Craig jumped down from the horse, all four of them surrounded him.
“She came,” said Gabriella, delighted.
“I’ll bet she asked a lot of questions,” said Ruben.
“Don’t, you’ll lose,” chuckled Craig
“What did she ask? Tell us everything,” said Hanna.
“She asked. . .” mumbled Craig, trying to come up with something, then looked at laughing Riley and walked out of the circle.
“Don’t be stupid, Hanna, they didn’t have time to talk.”
Craig took the ball and threw it to Riley, who kicked it toward Ruben. Gabriella grabbed Ruben, pushed him away, and took the ball.
“Gabriella, that’s cheating,” Ruben chortled, catching Gabriella by the hand and pulling her back.
She laughed and pushed the ball to Hanna with the tip of her foot.
Craig looked up at the castle where Samson watched Gabriella on the long stone balcony, a joyful smile on his face.
“When do I turn her?” Craig heard Samson’s voice. He sighed in response.
The next morning, Craig left right after breakfast. Eleanor had said that today she could come earlier and stay a little bit longer. He galloped in full speed, anticipating seeing her again. She wanted to tell him something. Her eyes were serious when she said it, and it sounded a little bit alarming. But, whatever it was, it didn’t matter, as long as it wasn’t goodbye. All he wanted was to see her, to be with her. He hoped that she wanted it, too.
They were lying on the bearskin with Craig holding Eleanor in his arms when he told her the truth. The same truth he told Beth a hundred and fifteen years ago. Now, after meeting Eleanor, it seemed such a stupid mistake. His heart was open again. He didn’t care if Eleanor would hurt it. From now and on, it was hers.
When Craig finished talking, he sat up and leaned against the wall in order to see her face. Eleanor sat up, too.
“You asked who I am. Now you know,” he said, looking at her.
Two tiny tears slipped down from the corners of her eyes.
“You almost died saving that woman. Is that why Samson turned you, because you were dying?” she asked.
“No,” said Craig, wiping her tears with his thumb. “He turned me because he chose me.”
“I would choose you as well.” She smiled and leaned forward to kiss him.
“I thought you already had,” whispered Craig against her lips. In response she kissed him again.
“How did he turn the others? Did he turn them when they were dying, too?” She asked, pulling back.
“No. Only Ruben. Riley, Gabriella, and Hanna were changed by will.”
“And Samson agreed? Why? Did Gabriella and Hanna do something heroic too?”
“No,” said Craig. “It’s not like that. All stories are different. Hanna was eight when all her family was killed by a troll. She grew up in the castle, and Samson was like a father to her. He turned her when she became eighteen. She asked him to. She has destroyed many trolls since then.”
“She must be very brave.” Craig heard notes of esteem in her voice.
“Yes. She is our brave, sweet sister.”
“She was my age,” said Eleanor. “Almost. I will be eighteen in the spring.”
Craig was amazed at how easily she took it. She wasn’t pretending or trying to be polite. Her interest was absolutely genuine.
“What about Gabriella? What is her story?”
“Gabriella’s story is as old as the world.” Craig paused, then looked at Eleanor’s expectant eyes and said, “She and Samson-–they fell in love the moment they saw each other. Gabriella is Samson’s wife.”
When Craig had told her the story, he skipped Gabriella’s part on purpose. He thought that it might alarm Eleanor, make her feel obligated somehow, that it would sound like a hint he didn’t intend to give and scare her away. He didn’t want that to happen. All he wanted was to be with her, to see her as often as possible.
“Wife?” Eleanor asked quietly and her eyes froze.
Craig’s heart stopped beating for a moment.
“But it wasn’t easy,” he said quickly. “To turn Gabriella, Samson waited for four years,” he said hoping it would calm her down. But Eleanor’s next questions didn’t sound like she was scared of anything.
“Why?” she asked. “Why did he wait that long? He wasn’t sure about his feelings?”
“No, he loved her very much,” said Craig.
“Gabriella didn’t want to? Or maybe it was some other serious reason?” she asked, persistently seeking an answer.
“No, she always wanted to. She loved him so much that, even knowing about all the consequences, she insisted he change her.”
“Then it was nothing.” She looked down and spread her hands. “Nothing was stopping them,” she whispered. Her hands fell to her sides and when she looked up again, her eyes were full of tears.
Craig’s pulse was probably visible by now. Did it mean what he thought it meant? Her questions sounded like she wanted to know what it took to become one of them. It seemed that she would, but something was stopping her. Was it possible that Eleanor, after seeing him only three times, was so in love with him that she wanted to be with him forever?
“Eleanor,” he said carefully, “Are you saying that you would…”
“Oh, Craig, I wouldn’t even think a minute. But . . .” Suddenly she closed her hands over her face.
Craig’s heart sank. He was right. When she opened her hands, her face was calm, but tears dropped one after another from her eyelashes.
“I need to tell you something. It may change your feelings for me, but please, promise you won’t disappear, at least without saying goodbye.”
“Eleanor, nothing.” He moved closer to her. “Do you hear me? Nothing is going to change my feelings for you.”
“Craig, I am married.”
“No,” murmured Craig. Something snapped inside him. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. The words “don’t disappear without saying goodbye” echoed in his head. Was this the goodbye he was afraid of? Did this mean that he had to leave and never come back?
He remembered the conversation between the two voices on the bench that first night. He stared at Eleanor, who didn’t move an inch and whose eyes were still full of tears.
“But you don’t love him,” he said.
“Of course I don’t love him,” said Eleanor, wiping her cheeks.
“Then why did you marry him?”
“I did it for my family.” She took a deep, heavy breath. “My father owned a sawmill, and everything was fine until he got a competitor. He started to lose customers, and a year ago, he was on the verge of bankruptcy. It was a very difficult time for my family. We lost almost everything. My father was devastated. The day he fired our servants, my mother got sick. We nearly lost the house before Richard McLane, his distant relative and a very influential person, offered him his help on the condition that they would become partners. Certainly, my father agreed. He didn’t have a choice. Using his influence and connections, Richard returned all my father’s customers, and, three months later, the competitor, whose business became unprofitable, sold him his sawmill.”
“And then Richard asked you to marry him,” said Craig with a cold voice.
“Yes. My father said if I refused, Richard might destroy us. I have two little brothers, what would happen to them? And I had to say yes to the man, who is only a few years younger than my father, and whom I’ll never love.”
“Is that the man who came after you that night?”
Eleanor nodded.
“Eleanor, you have to leave him.”
“I can’t. If I could, I would stay right here with you, I would go with you anywhere you wanted.” She hugged him as hard as she could. “But I can’
t.”
“I can help you.” Craig pulled back.
“You can’t, Craig. You don’t understand—”
“Eleanor, we are rich. I am very rich and I can help you. And I’ll not ask you for anything in return. You can do whatever you want, whatever you decide. If you want to stay with your family, I’ll still be here if you want me to.”
Eleanor, who was holding Craig’s hands, let go of him and sat back, motionless, looking into nowhere. Craig was confused. He thought hard, trying to figure out which of his words brought up a such reaction.
“You could do that?” she said indifferently.
“Yes. Eleanor, what’s wrong? What happened? If you don’t like my offer, just say so.”
“Your offer is perfect,” she said in stony voice. “It’s just two months too late. Craig, I’m pregnant.”
“Oh God,” whispered Craig, “Of course. How could I be so stupid?”
Craig, who never encountered such a thing, hadn’t even considered it. He forgot that that’s exactly what happened when people got married. Eleanor was probably hoping he would presume the possibility when she said that she was married, but he was so busy hating her husband and so selfishly afraid she would turn him down that he didn’t see what she was going through, trying to tell him the truth.
Eleanor stood up, put the cloak around her shoulders, and walked to the fireplace.
“I should have told you yesterday,” she said, staring at the flame, “but I just wanted that day to be perfect, to be mine, to keep it as a gift.”
Craig looked at Eleanor and thought about that little heart beating inside her, and it didn’t matter where it came from because it was she who would give it life, bring it into this world.
“Forgive me,” she said with unbearable bitterness in her voice.
“Forgive you?” He flashed forward and stopped behind her. “For what? he said, turning her around, “For being human? For loving your family? For sacrificing yourself for them?”
“Craig, you’re hurting me.”
Only then did he realize he was holding her arms too tightly and almost shouting.
“I’m sorry,” said Craig, lowering his voice and letting go of her. “I just—”