How The Wolf Lost Her Heart

by Sarah Brownlee

  “Raphael, do you think I don’t know this? I know better than anyone.”

  “Then why don’t we do anything about it?”

  “The House of Pearson are extremely powerful –“

  “So are we!”

  “Let me finish, my son. The House of Pearson are extremely powerful and they have many followers. We are strong but not strong enough; the riots of twelve years ago proved this. There were many senseless deaths, including women and children. We do not want a repeat of this. Yet we have not turned our backs. Do you not think that I have highly trained officers at my command who are doing everything they can to maintain serenity in the city, despite the overwhelming masses of thuggish behaviour that over-run it? Many of our people have lost their lives in the line of duty. Do you think I sent your eldest brother as an envoy to the Chinese Empire without good cause? The time to act will happen, but it is not yet and may not be for a long time coming. I have explained this to you before. Yet by you creating a rift between yourself and Lord Pearson’s son, it is only making matters worse.”

  “I told you, I can’t just stand by and watch them treat people like that,” growled Raphael.

  “Sometimes that is the only choice you will have. Tell me, where were you tonight?”

  “Where was I? Well – I went for a drink with a couple of friends.”

  “Do not lie to me, my son.”

  There was silence in the room. Raphael stared hard at the hissing flames of the fire.

  “You place yourself in too much danger,” said Lord Renzo in a low voice. “I know where you were. I know what you have been doing. What makes this so much worse is that others are beginning to suspect. The fact that you are a Morpher is not a secret. Do you not think that people will put two and two together? The servant of Pearson has revealed to me that his lord suspects you already. Fortunately there is no evidence; but if there were, God help us all. The chaos that would break out would be of a destruction you are yet to experience in your life. It has to end.”

  Flushed, Raphael leapt from his seat. Not looking his father in the eye and still glaring at the flames, he said,

  “You’re asking me to not make the most of my ability? Why else am I able to turn into a tiger, if not to help others? If destroying those who are causing this pain to other people is the only way, then so be it!”

  He turned away and strode towards the door, his fists in tight balls.

  “Raphael, shurrff nen riii nurrr greshhh raarssh narrrrr!”

  At the sound of the rasping, growling voice behind him, Raphael stopped in his tracks. He turned reluctantly back round to face his father, who, though still seated, had arched his back, his eyes glowing a blinding orange, his pupils dilated, triple the size. The noises he had made were comprehensible only to those who possessed the ability to morph; they were not words that could be translated, but rather noises that presented a very clear emotion or set of emotions. For Lord Renzo was also a Morpher and, at that moment, it was distress that he conveyed to his son.

  “Come here,” commanded Lord Renzo, his eyes a brilliant, watery orange. Raphael obeyed. He knelt before his father and lowered his head. Lord Renzo held his son’s head in his hands and his voice came out in a strained, strangled way.

  “You are too important for me to lose. Since your beloved mother passed, you and your brothers are all I hold dear in this world. I implore you, my son. Please. Please end this spree you have started. The time will come. But that time is not now. You must keep yourself safe, for my sake. Your ability will only protect you for so long. You must do this.”

  No longer able to bear seeing his father this way, Raphael pushed his head deeper into the old man’s hands.

  “Yes, Father,” he whispered. “I promise you that I will keep myself safe.”

  And the young tiger embraced the old tiger, the feeling between them conveying more than words ever could.

  Chapter Three

  On Saturday morning, Skye woke up with a great yawn and a loud growl. She had a tendency to release an enormous growl every morning and stretch herself for a good five minutes before sinking back into the bed for an extra half an hour, too lethargic to move. On this specific morning she was particularly groggy, considering what she had been up to the night before. Though there were only two people in the entire world who knew about this (her mother and Daphne), it was not uncommon for Skye to transform into a wolf in the dead of night, simply for the purpose of sprinting outside when all was quiet and dark. She usually did this a few times a month; it provided her with a sense of release, a soothing remedy to appease her inner beast, which often yearned to be free. Last night was an especially long session, with Skye running freely through the city and out into the open fields for a good three hours, howling at the moon as she managed to escape outside of London. She did not return home until three in the morning, transforming back into her human body and conking out on her bed.

  “SKYE! COME AND HELP ME UP HERE!”

  Skye groaned. She had told her mother she was going for a ‘run’ the night before. Why was she requesting her presence now?

  Nevertheless, she hauled herself out of bed, sank her feet into her furry slippers and made her way to the top floor to see what her mother was shouting about.

  “Yes?” she said grumpily, her eyes bloodshot, while her mother fiddled with a ladder on the top-floor corridor.

  “Skye! Good, you’re awake!”

  Hardly, thought Skye, feeling highly resentful.

  “I’m cleaning out the attic today for that jumble sale tomorrow, remember? Everything’s sorted except for the attic junk. We need to decide what we’re keeping and what we’re selling. You had better change into some old clothes, I suspect it’ll be a bit dirty and dusty up there!”

  “Could I maybe come and join you in about an hour’s time?” said Skye, rather desperately. She had just caught a glimpse of the time on the nearby grandfather clock; it was 10am. Seven hours was nowhere near enough sleep for her and she did feel incredibly moody when tired. “It’s just, as you know, I went for a run last night …”

  “Oh yes, how did that go, dear? Did you have a nice time?”

  “Well yes, but I feel so tired …”

  “All the more reason for you to get changed! This will wake you up! Tell you what – we’ll go at it for a couple of hours and then I’ll make us a delicious lunch! Your favourite, rump steak! Go on, chop chop – I’ll make you a coffee while I wait for you! Or how about a nice white tea?”

  “Tea, thanks,” said Skye, disgruntled. She trudged back to her room with a deep sigh. That was her mother – vibrant, chirpy and completely a morning person as opposed to Skye’s night-time preference. It was with great effort that she changed into a tracksuit and trainers.

  Just as she was about to leave her bedroom, her tag device started buzzing.

  ‘UNKNOWN CALLER’ flashed before her. Still half asleep and mildly curious as to who would be calling her at this time on a Saturday morning, Skye pressed ‘Accept’.

  The next thing that happened was the handsome face of Raphael Renzo materializing in the air before her, his holographic features smiling straight at her.

  “Hello,” he said, beaming.

  Horrified and panicking, Skye pressed the ‘End Call’ button on her device and Raphael’s face vanished instantly. Never mind cleaning out the attic; this unwelcome, nasty surprise had woken her up enough! Aside from the fact that she had been hoping he would have forgotten about her, she was well aware that she looked an absolute mess; tousled hair, bloodshot eyes and blemished skin that appeared prominent in the mornings when she was not wearing make-up. And to think he had called her, with her looking like that! As if their first meeting wasn’t humiliating enough, this latest fiasco made her blush a deep beetroot red. She also cursed herself for being so concerned about it in the first place!

  The tag device rang again. Desperately, Skye looked around for something to cover her face. She could hardly leave it ringing l
ike that when he now knew she was actually there. Catching sight of a black scarf draped on her chair, she grabbed it and wrapped it around her head so that only her eyes were visible. She then pressed ‘Accept’.

  Raphael’s face appeared again and his voice could hardly contain its amusement when he caught sight of Skye.

  “Bad connection?” he enquired mischievously.

  Still terribly embarrassed, Skye replied in muffled tones,

  “Erm, yeah. Anyway … this is a surprise …”

  “I suppose it must be. I hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time. Are you sick?”

  Infuriated, for she knew that he knew she felt very self-conscious at being caught in her just-woken-up state, she replied in strained tones that, yes, she was feeling a bit under the weather and thought it best she wear something around her face, so that he didn’t run the risk of catching a cold.

  “I see,” said Raphael, barely containing a grin. Skye blushed even harder, highly thankful that the scarf was covering her red cheeks.

  “So ... to what do I owe the pleasure?” she said, trying to sound normal.

  “Well, I’m just calling to see if you’d be interested in meeting for that coffee later on today? There are some things I’ve been thinking of that I’d like to talk about, if that’s OK?”

  “Oh, I don’t think I can,” replied Skye, wildly trying to think of an excuse. “You see, I’m, erm, helping my mother with clearing out stuff in the house and we’ll be doing it for at least twelve hours.”

  “Twelve?” said Raphael, eyes widening.

  At that moment, much to Skye’s dismay, her mother strode in with a steaming cup of white tea.

  “Here we go, dear! Oh my – who is this?”

  She stopped in her tracks at the sight of the holographic face hovering beside her daughter’s. Not knowing quite what to say, Skye managed a weak grin that looked more like a grimace, while Raphael turned to Mrs. Archer, a charming smile fixed on his face.

  “Hello, I’m Raphael Renzo. A friend of Skye’s. You must be her sister. How do you do?”

  At the sound of the clear compliment, Mrs. Archer giggled and waved her one free hand. Skye’s visible eyes rolled upwards.

  “No, no,” her mother said in a flustered, pleased voice, “I am her mother actually. How very nice to meet you, Raphael. Renzo, did you say? Not Lord Renzo’s son by any chance?”

  “One and the same,” smiled Raphael.

  “Goodness!” exclaimed Mrs Archer. “Skye hadn’t told me she had made any new friends lately.” She turned to her daughter disapprovingly, wagging a finger. “How could you have failed to mention this?”

  Skye sighed, exasperated.

  “I was just asking Skye if she would like to join me for coffee later,” said Raphael. “However, she told me that you’re both busy for the next twelve hours.”

  “Twelve hours?” repeated Mrs. Archer in disbelief. She turned to Skye who did not look happy. “Well, that is a complete and utter exaggeration, dear! We will be done in four hours maximum! You enjoy the rest of your day.”

  “In that case, how about five o clock?” said Raphael, turning to Skye expectantly.

  Thoroughly displeased with how the situation had panned out but unable to think of a valid excuse not to accept, especially not with Raphael’s questioning expression and her mother’s hopeful one staring straight at her, Skye resigned herself.

  “Yeah … OK then.”

  “There’s a really nice place near mine,” said Raphael, a satisfied countenance about him. “It’s called ‘Bert’s Bubble Tea.’ So if it’s tea you prefer, I think you’d like it. It’s just at the edge of Notting Hill Meadows. Not sure where you are based, but I could come and pick you up if you like?”

  Trying hard to ignore the awed look on her mother’s face, Skye shook her head and forced a smile.

  “That’s alright, I’ll take the bus. I’m pretty sure I know where it is. Right, well, got to get back to this cleaning so I’ll see you at five! Bye!”

  “Bye. And bye, Mrs. Archer, lovely to meet you.”

  Skye pressed the ‘End Call’ button and set her tag device down on the table. Trying to avoid her mother’s gaze, she turned around and made her way towards the top floor.

  However, the inquisition was not to be avoided.

  “Skye Archer, I demand to know right now what that was all about!”

  “Nothing, really,” said Skye, approaching the ladder and unfolding it.

  “Is he your new boyfriend?” queried her mother in glee.

  “Of course not!”

  “Then why is he calling you asking you to go for coffee?”

  “Oh, because ….”

  “Because what?”

  “Just – well – because I met him the other day when I went to the High Street and we just sort of started talking …”

  “Really? How? Who started talking to who first?”

  “Mum, do we really have to talk about this?”

  “Yes! Who spoke first?”

  “Well, we didn’t exactly start talking …”

  “You just said you did!”

  Embarrassed and irritated, Skye retold the events of the day that she and Raphael met and the circumstances surrounding them.

  “Skye, you were almost mugged?” said her mother in sheer horror. “Why didn’t you tell me this? I cannot believe this happened to you – you are lucky you’re OK! Did they hurt you? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Mum, calm down,” said Skye, trying to soothe her frantic mother. “You know full well that I would have been able to take care of myself –”

  “That is not the point! What if they’d had knives? You would have had no time to transform! Skye, you must be careful when outside –”

  “My reflexes are twenty times quicker than that of normal people. I wasn’t in any danger, trust me.”

  Somewhat consoled by this, Mrs. Archer’s attentions then turned to Raphael Renzo.

  “So you were cornered by these thugs and he came to your rescue?”

  Rather bothered by the assumption that she had been ‘rescued’ Skye replied,

  “Well, sort of. He came over and told them to leave me alone. He sort of pushed the ringleader away from me.”

  “So he did come to your rescue!”

  “Well – in a manner of speaking – but I could easily have saved myself -”

  “My dear, it isn’t a question of whether you were able to protect yourself or not; he didn’t know that you’re a Morpher. He put his life on the line for you! What an incredibly brave young man! And so very handsome too! What a lovely smile that boy has, don’t you agree?”

  “Yes,” said Skye, disgruntled. “Right, shall I go up first or you?”

  “Now the question is, why didn’t you tell me that you’re about to embark upon a relationship with this man?”

  “Because I’m not,” said Skye through gritted teeth.

  “Then why is he asking you out on a date?”

  “It’s not a date. It’s coffee – or tea. Whichever. He just wants to be friends, that’s all.”

  “My dear girl, I like to think that I have some kind of knowledge when it comes to the male species. If a man rescues you and then invites you out, whether it be for coffee, tea, the cinema or bowling, then it means he likes you.”

  “I highly doubt that is the case.”

  “Oh yes? Perhaps you would like to offer an alternative explanation.”

  “If you must know, he’s a Morpher and he knows that I’m one too. That’s why he wants to be friends.”

  Her mother looked enthralled.

  “Is he? And he knows you’re a Morpher too? That settles it – he definitely likes you!”

  Incredulous, Skye shook her head. Her mother carried on excitedly.

  “This is wonderful – my daughter has finally met someone who is just like her. Not just anyone, but the son of Lord Renzo too! And him being so charming and handsome … You had better snatch him up quickly, Skye,
I can imagine there are quite a lot of girls hoping to get their claws into him! But they have nothing on you, my dear – with your beauty, intelligence and your ability to morph. You make the perfect match!”

  “Mum, please,” said Skye, feeling rather nauseous, “one more word about this and I am going straight back to bed.”

  “But dear,” protested her mother, “I am just so happy for you! It’s been so long since you had a boyfriend –”

  “And that’s not about to change any time soon.”

  “Dear, are you honestly telling me that you don’t think he’s handsome?”

  “No – I mean, he is – it’s just I’m not interested in him and he doesn’t like me in that way anyway …”

  “I think you are wrong! Any man who calls you on a Saturday morning is not interested in being just friends!”

  “Yes, Mum, whatever you say, now can we please get on with clearing out the junk? The longer we spend talking about this, the longer I’m going to have to wait for that steak you promised me.”

  They spent several hours cleaning out the attic. There were pictures of Skye’s immediate family, including her mother, her grandparents, her father … She swallowed when she saw the picture of the tall, tough-looking man with deep brown eyes just like hers, who held her mother in his arms some twenty years prior, her heart experiencing that familiar stabbing pain whenever she thought of him, trying not to dwell for reasons she could not bear to think about …

  There were a great deal of ancient relics buried up there too, many having been passed down by Skye’s ancestors, including the original Morpher, her great-great Grandmother.

  “Wow, look at that,” pointed Skye to a chest with lots of items poking out, while her mother wrestled with several cobwebs. “What is it?”

  She bent over and picked up a small, dusty, rectangle device with a pair of silver earphones attached to it.