I shivered, remembering his wolf snarling a warning for me not to enter. I stepped my way around the leather couch to the exit when my eyes landed on a door on the back wall. Curiosity tickled my mind, and I stepped closer, my hands sticky with sweat. I reached out for the door handle, fingers curling around the knob. Something moved to my right. I looked up for a moment and screamed. A woman’s eyes stared back at me from the glass. My heart tried to break from my chest, but my hands held it in. Several seconds passed as I stared into her icy blue eyes before I realized it was a reflection of something behind me.
I flipped around, but the woman was gone. No one was in the room with me. Gooseflesh sprouted on my skin. Had it been a ghost?
I froze, afraid to breathe. This house was probably haunted from girls past. Beast even admitted that at least one had died. An eerie feeling crawled over me, and all I wanted to do was sprint from the room, but something was calling me. My eyes gravitated up the intricately carved, wooden columns of the fireplace to a painting. A gorgeous young woman with sun-dipped golden curls falling in a silky cascade down her back stared back at me. Was this my ghost? A painting? I laughed at myself. The trip to the basement made me jumpy.
She was beautiful. Her skin was painted with soft strokes the color of creamed butter. A dusty-rose silk dress cupped her ample bosom before flowing down her curvy figure. Everything about the woman glowed with happiness. Her sapphire eyes sparkled with the light of thousands of stars—eyes that moments ago had looked so haunted. I was only slightly relieved that this had been the woman reflected in the glass. But the picture still gave me the willies, like I was waiting for her to pop off the canvas all carnal-like and strangle me. Yet, something about her hypnotized me, called to me as if I knew her. Compassion swelled in my chest—a haunted melody laced with sorrow.
Intrigued beyond reason, I rested my hand on the mantel, but instead of the smooth wooden texture I was expecting, my hand rested on a book so frayed its binding threatened to disintegrate when I bumped it. Delicately, I gripped the worn book and felt a buzz tickle my skin as if this ancient book was meant for me. Tentatively, I brushed a finger over the spot where the title had long since worn away. Holding my breath, I gently peeled opened the cover. The pages naturally fanned open to a particular spot. I scanned the page, and my mouth popped open. It was a werewolf legend—the same legend Grandma had told since I was a child. My favorite.
THE LEGEND OF THE BEAST
The happenings of Earth are remembered by the stars. They didn’t intercede in the dealings of men lightly, for to do so required a sacrifice—their immortality. The stars loved their heavenly home and didn’t give much thought to the short lived humans, except for one star. Humans intrigued her. Her brothers and sisters couldn’t understand what fascinated her about such selfish and violent creatures.
Her star family couldn’t sway her from her irrational concern for the humans: mortals who felt anger, heartache, fear, and spent their lives destroying themselves. But her whole vessel vibrated with the pure energy of her soul’s desire to love the humans.
She watched men evolve from animalistic behaviors to more civilized creatures who built wooden structures for shelter, families to bear their responsibilities with, and communities for protection. She was confused to see them fight amongst themselves. But finally, among the ugliness of countless bloody wars, she witnessed humans’ great capacity for compassion and empathy.
This is what her brothers and sisters could not understand. She didn’t fully understand it either. Then on a crisp fall night, a young boy captivated her interest. He was different from the others. His eyes sparked with curiosity, as if they housed the galaxies of her home. His blonde hair was as vibrant as the morning sun, and his skin was tanned the color of dry earth. Sometimes, she’d imagine he was staring directly at her, and warmth would spread through her soul.
Years passed and she watched him closely. He grew to be a great warrior, protecting his community from the dangers of the wild. Her breath caught every time he gazed into the night sky to look at her, and she shone brighter for him. One night, he was out hunting when a pack of starving wolves surrounded him. He fought valiantly, but in the end there were just too many of them. Watching his death draw near, she acted on impulse.
She threw herself from the sky.
Her impact rippled through the ground, driving the wolves away. He was bloody but still breathing. Kneeling beside him, she bent over until her lips touched his. She exhaled into him her last heavenly breath, carrying the healing power of the universe.
His body was healed, and his eyes fluttered open. His perfect eyes gazed into hers. An unfamiliar pain twisted her gut—mortal fear. What if he didn’t love her? She stood, prepared to flee. His warm, strong hand grasped her wrist.
“Stay.” His voice flowed like the smooth caress of light.
But her fear held her prisoner. “What if you hurt me?”
“How could I hurt one as beautiful as you?” he answered, drawing her into his embrace to kiss her.
They married and lived blissfully for many years. His youthful appearance never gained wrinkles, neither did his hair turn gray with age. But hers did. They had shared more than a kiss the night she saved him. She’d breathed eternal life into his flesh, sacrificing her own immortality in the process. She sorrowed that one day she would leave him in death, and he would roam the earth alone without her.
Then one day he looked upon her stooped back and aged beauty with disdain and cast her into the street. Her daughters took her in to their home, and soon after, the man found a young maiden to fill his immortal bed.
So great was her pain that she wept in agony from dawn to twilight. Her body grew weak, and her daughters feared she would soon die. They plead with the stars, their celestial aunts and uncles, in behalf of their mother. The stars looked down with pity on their fallen sister.
At the full moon, they sent her a Celestial Rock, glowing bright with the power of the heavens, calling her back home to them. Blinded by grief she returned to her beloved, carrying the heavenly gift, unable to hide in the heavens while he lived unpunished for eternity. At her knock, the door flew back and there he stood, glaring down at her with scorn. Her heart shattered all over again, solidifying her plan for revenge.
Her voice trembled under his scornful gaze as she spoke her curse: “From wolves I saved you and to heartless wolves you will return. Never to harm another with your deceit.”
The rock dimmed to a faint glow as its power encased the man in a cocoon of light only she could see. A young maiden came to stand beside him, caressing his youthful chest. He turned from her and slammed the door inches from her face, but the deed was done.
The next morning, in the village, the girls brought tales that their father’s home was ravaged by a wild beast, his mistress killed, but their father was nowhere to be found. That night the anguished howls of the lone wolf vibrated through her aging body, and she knew her curse was complete.
It wasn’t until later that she discovered her mistake. By stripping her beloved of his human form, she also stripped him of his humanity. He was more monster than beast. He snatched children and maidens from the village, not like his brother wolves who killed animals for meat, but for the pleasure of draining them of the life he would never have again. Rumors abounded as well. Those few who had survived his attack were changed into monsters just like he was and joined him in his murderous hunt.
Deep in the woods, Star pulled the Celestial Rock from her dress pocket, watching the dim light pulse with fragmented magic. There was not enough power to reverse the wrong she had done, but she could lessen it. After a fruitless hunt for him, she seized her hunting knife and sliced deep into her palm. Her lifeblood poured onto the rock, drop by drop, until she was no more.
From that moment on, the Celestial Rock had enough power left to give the cursed creatures a way to earn back their humanity and escape the monster trapped inside, but never would they completely escape the beas
t.
I dropped the book as if it had burned me. It slid off my lap and flopped on the floor with a dusty thud, cracking the binding. A chill froze my blood. The man had turned wolf by a curse from a fallen star, a wolf like—my beast? Could the legend be true? But how could Beast be this cruel, heartless man? He’d been careful with me—thoughtful. Things just didn’t add up. And what about his brother with polio? That didn’t sound like something from ancient times. Unless he was lying…trying to win my sympathies.
I shook the thought away, too weirded out to entertain it without running from the room screaming. I felt pulled again to the legend. I had to uncover the truth.
As I bent over to retrieve the tattered book, a folded aged piece of paper fell from its pages. Apprehensively, I pinched the yellow tinted paper between my fingers. With a shuddering breath, I unfolded the paper, unsure if I could handle any more surprises. Elegant, calligraphy-inked letters stared up at me:
The star’s daughters had children, daughters that share the curse’s burden. The star’s blood pumps through their veins as it does their descendants.
Looking back up at the painting, I whispered, “Descendants? Is that what I am?”
A fierce stab penetrated my left shoulder, stealing my breath away and numbing my arm. My right hand flew to the injured spot, finding nothing protruding out of my skin. The pain vanished under my seeking fingertips only to be replaced by an all-encompassing desire to attack—to kill. My fingers curled of their own accord, as if extending claws, and I crouched low, heart racing with adrenaline. Confidence and determination washed through me as I searched through the darkness for something to kill, but a tiny sense of fear gnawed at my gut.
Ragged breaths huffed between my lips as I clutched the arm of the couch. My eyes were wild until my brain found no enemy.
“Beast!” My panicked voice vibrated through the room and my blood pumped violently through my veins as I sprung toward the door.
The bond!
Fear gripped my gut, twisting it so hard I fell onto the Persian rug beneath my bare feet. I pushed myself up on my elbows. I could feel his power, his massive strength fending off whatever was attacking him. A howl pierced the night air and suddenly I was on my feet, sprinting out of the study. An overwhelming need to be with him propelled my feet through the moonlit kitchen and sliding glass door.
Even when my bare feet slipped on the frosted ground, I didn’t stop running. Crossing the unlit meadow, I entered the shadowed forest. The bond told me exactly where my beast was located, like an internal compass. I stumbled through the tangled snarls of underbrush. A tree limb ripped through my shirt, and hidden rocks stubbed my exposed toes.
Another jolt of searing pain zipped through me, like sharp teeth tearing at my upper thigh. My stride faltered, slamming me into the scratchy embrace of a ponderosa pine. Reflexively, my hand coddled the throbbing leg, wounded by the phantom pain.
I leaned against the giant trunk for support. The forest grew still except for my wheezing and the rustle of brawling aspen branches in the night breeze.
My heart hurt, sickened by the immense agony Beast was feeling. I had to get to him now. Pushing away from the trunk, I stumbled resolutely through the forest. My sore, scratched feet refused to run. Dazed from the pain slithering through my veins like venomous poison, I didn’t hear the vicious snarls until it was too late.
I tumbled into the clearing and stopped dead in my tracks. A chorus of snapping teeth and growling wolves shook the air with violence. There must have been more than twenty wolves of varying sizes and colors, creating a makeshift ring around the two largest wolves in the pack. One of them I knew instantly was Beast. Both snarled at each other, saliva dripping from bone white teeth illuminated in the moonlight. Their coats were matted like an explosion of blood and dirt. They danced around the circle, throwing chunks of upturned grass and dirt with their claws, as they struggled for the upper hand in the fight.
His opponent lunged for Beast’s neck. My breath burned in my lungs, bracing for pain. At the last second, Beast ducked under the wolf. It stumbled and rolled, leaving it temporarily vulnerable. Beast sprung. His silver eyes focused as he dealt out a brutal strike to his opponent’s head. The other wolf whimpered but didn’t slump to the ground. Instead, it twisted and snapped, but Beast quickly dodged the razor sharp teeth that barely missed the soft underside of his throat.
My stomach clenched as I saw the matted blood on Beast’s left shoulder and the flesh torn from his right leg. Here were the wounds I had felt in my own body only moments ago. Aching to be near him, but not daring to step another foot into the clearing, I hunkered down into the underbrush and watched the awful battle progress.
I wanted to scream for them to stop, but my throat constricted in self-preservation.
I can’t lose him!
The intensity of the thought surprised me for an instant before the snarls recaptured my attention. My eyes scanned the clearing, hoping another wolf would aid their alpha. But none stepped forth. Why didn’t they stop them?
Beast was struck in his wounded leg and a hiss of pain pierced my thigh. Tears leaked from my eyes. I sagged against the nearest tree trunk and pinched my eyes shut to block it out. Why was this happening? Wasn’t this his pack? They were going to let him die?
An ear-splitting cry penetrated the clearing, snapping me from the delirium of pain. My eyes flashed back toward the fight. The whine was cut short by the gurgling sound of drowning. Beast held his attacker by the neck, scarlet liquid dripping from its throat. Blood flowed from around Beast’s snarled lips to a puddle at his feet. He gave a final jerk of his head and sent the carcass skidding into the mouths of his ravenous pack.
My tongue was as dry as sandpaper and my throat constricted with horror. I couldn’t hold back the dry heave that escaped me as the wolves tore into the dead wolf’s mangled flesh. It was a hundred times worse than my most graphic anti-vegetarian dreams could conjure. The noise must have alerted Beast, because his large silver eyes snapped in my direction. Our eyes held for only a moment before a chorus of low guttural growls turned in my direction. I stood, locked in the wildness of my beast’s eyes, shining with the triumphant glint of a fresh kill. No glimmer of humanity remained. The legend from the study flashed before my eyes, and I shivered. He was pure wolf tonight.
A long howl from a wolf behind Beast broke our eye contact. I took in the whole pack. Their eyes were carnal with hunger. Fear flashed through my veins. They wanted more flesh—mine.
I fled for my life, my feet pounding through the snarled undergrowth. I knew I would never outrun a whole pack of wolves, and the darkness made it even more impossible, but my legs did not slow. The image of their sharp, ravaging teeth sinking into my body propelled me even faster.
The forest worked against me as branches snagged my clothing and broke with loud cracks while tree roots threatened to topple my frantic flight. My bare feet seared with agony, but I wouldn’t slow my pace.
Several times, I swore I felt the hot, panting breath of a wolf closing in. Twigs snapped under my numb feet, hampering any chance I had of stealth. I heard the flying dirt clods so near I could almost feel the spray on my legs as massive paws churned the soil. But the sting of teeth never came. Instead, I heard several thuds and wolves growling menacingly, like young pups fighting over scraps of meat. I took advantage of the distraction and pushed my legs even harder.
It took all my concentration to keep myself from falling as I leapt and sprinted through the forest, toward the only light I could see glimmering through the trees. I had one goal: to get back to Beast’s lodge. And if by some miracle I reached it, I would never venture outside again.
Soon the trees began to thin and the silhouette of the lodge, bathed in moonlight, peeked through the shadowed aspens. My sides heaved from exertion, but I didn’t have time to dwell on the pain in my chest as I hurtled out of the trees. I was only a few yards away from the back porch. Hope flooded through me. Maybe I would live to
see another sunrise.
Drawing on my last ounce of energy, I sprinted through the tangled mess of the forest, unhampered through the meadow, and straight for the kitchen door. But I wasn’t the only one. The sound of many paws pounding the ground behind me kept my exhausted muscles moving forward.
I’d barely placed a foot on the first step of the porch when my back leg seared with pain, and I was jerked back. I screamed. Teeth tore a chunk of flesh from my calf. My face smashed into the wooden porch. A chorus of snarls tolled behind me, and I dug my fingernails into the porch wood, praying for deliverance.
My whole body trembled violently, and I felt my consciousness fade under the excruciating pain. I waited for the jaws of razor sharp teeth to rip out my throat and end my torment, but they never came. Grunting, I struggled to blink back the stars and pull myself toward the safety of the glass doors, afraid that the snapping jaws would grab for my leg again any second.
The snarls intensified, and I struggled to turn my throbbing head toward the sound. A familiar-looking, light-gray wolf had its back facing me and was fighting off its own kind, badly outnumbered and wounded. There had to be at least seven wolves against it and more coming by the moment. This must be the wolf that attacked me, fighting to keep its claim on dinner.
A brutal growl erupted to the other side of me, vibrating through my bones. I froze, petrified, not that I had strength to move anyway. A smaller growl responded. Beast now faced the gray wolf, who shook under his heavy gaze. He looked massive in comparison.
“Beast.” My voice wavered with exhaustion, but held my plea. Please let him remember me, to protect me.
He bared his blood-stained teeth at me and snapped, but the gray wolf snapped its own teeth, drawing his attention from me. His response stung my already laboring heart. He was going to kill me himself. The thought tore at my heart, and I closed my eyes, unwilling to see the end.
I thought of the way his sad human eyes would hold mine or the way his strong arms felt around me. My heart beat a strange rhythm at the memories. His human side surely didn’t want me dead. Was it trapped inside, struggling to be free and unable to tame the beast?
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