How The Wolf Lost Her Heart

by Sarah Brownlee

  This feeling was greatly overpowered by the rage, however.

  “I cannot believe you had the nerve to actually speak to my mother!” she snapped.

  “You didn’t leave me with a choice!” he snapped back. “If you had just picked up your device to at least tell me you didn’t want to see me again, fair enough. But to just ignore someone who is clearly trying to contact you? That’s just low. I really thought we were getting to be good friends.”

  “Alright – I shouldn’t have ignored you like that. I’m sorry … but you can’t just go traipsing along to my house! I don’t know … What’s the big deal anyway? You have lots of friends … like Sasha.”

  She was unable to keep out the bite in her voice when she said that name and Raphael caught it.

  “Sasha? Has the reason you haven’t been speaking to me got anything to do with her?”

  “No – of course not. Don’t be silly …”

  “Are you sure? Because you looked pretty annoyed when I came back with the ambulance. Did something happen?”

  “No! Look – I really have to get home –”

  “What is the matter with you?” said Raphael, frustrated. “Fine! You know what? If I really annoy you that much and you don’t want to be friends, then fine! But at least tell me to my face and tell me why. Tell me what I did so I’m not left wondering about it! Then we can go our own separate ways and I won’t bug you again.”

  He stared at her expectantly, his torso heaving, his fists clenched into balls. Skye felt a mixture of strong emotions rush through her: guilt for clearly upsetting him the way she had, confusion as to why he came looking for her, anger that he did and yet pleasure that he had; she felt drawn to him, but also the desire to get away from him.

  “You haven’t done anything wrong,” she said miserably.

  “Then what is the problem? Why have you been ignoring me? Skye, just tell me!”

  “Because … because …”

  “Because what?”

  “Because … because I’ve been on my period and I usually feel depressed for a while afterwards!”

  Raphael stared at her in astonishment and Skye frantically wondered if he would buy her absurd explanation.

  “For two weeks?” he said in amazement.

  Skye nodded.

  “Yes – well, it’s not normally this bad. Usually I just feel down for a few days, but I’ve felt pretty bad lately … Might be the time of year …”

  There was a hint of relief on Raphael’s face.

  “Wow. I know nothing about girls and that time of the month. Why didn’t you just say so?”

  “Well, you know … It’s not really the kind of thing you discuss with guys …”

  “And that’s it? Nothing else?”

  “No. That’s it.”

  There was a moment’s pause. Then to her surprise, he moved closer to her and gave her a hug.

  “Hugs are supposed to channel energy from one person to another and lift their spirits,” he said quietly, his lips almost touching her hair as he held her to him. Skye had frozen, not sure what was happening. “Is it working? Do you feel better now?”

  Unable to speak, she merely nodded. Raphael released her after a few more seconds, an embarrassed smile on his face.

  “Sorry. I don’t know the full extent of what you girls go through when it comes to that … stuff. It’s just me, my brothers and my dad since my mum passed away. And no girlfriend to show me the ropes. I shouldn’t have gone to your house the way I did, but I wanted to know why you weren’t returning my calls. And to tell the truth, I was a bit worried too.”

  “Worried?”

  “Yeah. I thought something might have happened to you. Kept having flashes of when Pearson and his boys had cornered you …”

  Now feeling more guilty than ever that she had ignored him the way she had, Skye shook her head, trying to hide her shamefaced expression.

  “No – that’s one thing you should never do with me. Worry. You know I’m a wolf – I could take those guys out in an instant. Look, I’m really sorry I ignored you like that. Really.”

  “Don’t worry about it. So are we OK to be friends?”

  Realizing that her efforts not to think about him over the past couple of weeks had more or less been in vain and that, despite her trepidations, she didn’t want to stop seeing him, Skye nodded.

  “Yeah … friends is fine.”

  “And you promise that if there’s a problem in the future where you can’t or don’t want to talk to me, you’ll let me know?”

  “Yes. I promise.”

  He smiled at her and she smiled tentatively back. She realized now that this was the moment where she would, quite simply, ride it out and see where her destination took her.

  “Listen, I want you to come out with me tomorrow evening. After you finish work.”

  “Hmpf,” said Skye, resuming a certain type of stubbornness that showed its face whenever she was around him. “Ever heard the term ‘I want, never gets’?”

  “Nope. But I really would like it if you joined me tomorrow evening. There’s something I want to show you. I think you’ll like it.”

  “What is it?”

  Raphael tapped his finger to his nose, smiling mysteriously.

  “It’s a surprise. It won’t be as much fun if I told you.”

  “You’re not going to kidnap me and sell me off as a slave or anything, are you?”

  “Come on … would I do that? You’re a wolf; strong, powerful, resilient. It’d take at least ten men to try and kidnap you.”

  “Well, you’re a tiger. So you’re all those things too, aren’t you?”

  Raphael chuckled.

  “Meet me tomorrow. After work. I’ll treat you to something to eat – and then I want to show you this place.”

  Still in two minds, Skye hesitated.

  “OK then,” she said finally. “I get off at seven, as you know. Where shall I meet you?”

  “Do you know Shepherd’s Bush?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, meet me there. Do you like Chinese?”

  She nodded.

  “Right – there’s a buffet there called Aroma. The oldest standing Chinese buffet in the city. Opened over two hundred years ago. Meet me outside it. We’ll grab something there quickly and then I’ll take you to this place. You OK to stay out late on a school night, kid?”

  “I can stay out as long as I like, week-night or not,” huffed Skye. Did this guy not realize that she was able to transform into a vicious beast if she chose to?

  “That’s great. Well, get a good rest tonight. You’re going to need it.”

  “Where exactly are we going?” said Skye suspiciously.

  “I told you, it’s a surprise. I’m going to get going. Skye … Thanks for talking with me and still being OK with us being friends. I enjoy your company. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  With his eyes firmly locked onto hers, he gave her one last smile before walking away, his broad shoulders fading into the shadows as though he were a great cat stalking through the jungle. Skye watched him go, her heart skipping the odd beat. She still couldn’t quite believe that Raphael had tracked her down; he must really crave the company of another Morpher. The whole situation frightened her, but at the same time excitement bubbled within her. She was curious as to why he felt so anxious for her company – undoubtedly, he had many friends, acquaintances, admirers; he had wealth and social status. She herself had always coped with being a single Morpher; cast out from social cliques and gossiped about from a young age, it soon became a way of life for her to feel as though she didn’t fit in with anyone else. A lone wolf. She had never felt the need to mingle with others who were like her, nor seek them out. When things got tough, Skye always fell back on the one thing that created a beacon of hope within her: her dreams. When snide words came her way, when she was stabbed in the back by those she trusted, when tragedy hit, creating great sorrow and despair … her dreams and aspirations saved her. She wo
ndered how Raphael had fared as a lone Morpher throughout the years. He seemed blessed with his outer surroundings … and, yes, blessed inwardly too. For Skye always knew when someone had a good heart. She knew that she had agreed now to continue acquainting herself with him and she couldn’t back out of that now.

  I’m just going to have to keep a tight rein on my feelings, she thought, for the one factor that held her back the most – that humiliating fear of rejection or abandonment – was the one thing that would cause a stain upon what she was about to embark on, whether it was real or imaginary. A phrase that had become almost a mantra to her several years ago, just after that dreadful time when she found the boy she cared for with someone else, sprung into her head once more and she walked on to her house, repeating it over and over again in her mind.

  Pride comes before fall

  But no pride is the greatest shame of all.

  Chapter Six

  The House of Pearson stood in Stratford, East London, dominant and fearsome, a gothic-century mansion surrounded by much smaller houses and dry wasteland. Some two hundred years ago, this town had been host to one of the greatest sporting events the country had ever seen: the 2012 Olympics. A magnificent opening ceremony was the foundation for the prestige that this particular area of London was to enjoy for a number of years that followed; it was welcomed by many residents considering the poor reputation this side of the city was traditionally known for. Unfortunately, such standing due to the Olympics declined steadily as more time passed. The ‘nanny state’ with its belief that ‘everyone should be allowed the freedom to do as they please’ escalated to the point where law and order broke down completely; murder, rape, violence and theft reached an all-time high inside the city. Disrespect from the young towards the old became a way of life and many pensioners feared to leave their homes, because of the vicious youths that roamed around outside. London turned ugly, inside and out. Politicians, in an attempt to rectify the years of damage they had caused, tried weakly to restore some form of order, but by then it was too late. The messages they had been drumming into everyone’s ears for the best part of a century – that the authorities had no right to condemn bad behaviour as it was a breach of 'equal rights', that any adult who attempted to discipline their child would be chastised, that wrong-doers should be gently sympathised with and not reprimanded in any way – these messages that represented such an obvious decline in morals and values finally exploded with devastating consequences. A city that once prospered so richly went straight to the dogs. And East London lay at the heart of it all, for it was here that the trouble started and spread like wildfire. It was here that the darkness festered and grew, where the villains and cads gathered together to terrorize others as best as they could; and here where the more decent people cowered in their homes, fearing each night for their very safety.

  Things had improved slightly over the past twelve years as opposed to living in a century of pure terror. This was due to explosive rioting that occurred just over a decade ago, when the thugs and scoundrels organized a devastating spree on the city, killing and pillaging wherever they went. The police force, afraid to take drastic action for fear of rebuke from their government, had stood by with their shields and batons, helpless as these masses overpowered them, while the thugs set fire to people’s homes and dragged screaming citizens into corners, beating them, or worse.

  But there were heroes during this dark hour, too. Lord Renzo had been keeping an eye on the city as best as he could for a good thirty years. Slowly, but surely, he had organized his own determined fighting squad; decent men and women who still retained the core morals and values, the only features that could truly render one person better than another. These brave citizens, young and old, pledged their loyalty to Lord Renzo in their thousands. The lord knew full well that it was pointless looking to the government or the authorities for support; they were obliged to follow the law, however ridiculous the law may be, and they would religiously follow these laws, even when the people they were supposed to protect were in grave danger. When the riots hit, with the House of Pearson being held responsible as the main perpetrators, Lord Renzo secretly deployed as many physically strong citizens as he had to go out and help the others, innocent people who were caught in the middle of this bloody, vicious atrocity. The deaths that followed was of an astronomical amount. The House of Pearson recognized that the ultimate dominance they craved over the city would not be taken so easily. So the two lords came to an agreement; Lord Pearson would call an end to the killing rampage and, in return, Lord Renzo would not seek vengeance or retribution for the many lives lost. Agreed this was, and the settlement was adhered to by both parties.

  The long-suffering damage left such a dent upon the city that few believed it would ever be truly healed. Whole towns were reduced to wreckage due to the fires and plunder. Many had lost friends and family members in the merciless rioting; thugs continued to roam the city in their packs searching for victims. But as Lord Renzo had told his son, he continued to keep an eye on the city and do what he could; yet it was never quite enough, and London (especially in the East) still lived more or less under siege to those who knew not the value of respect, honour and decency.

  Such siege was hugely endorsed by one young man in particular, the youngest son of Lord Pearson. The scar that ran down his cheek was one he considered a badge of honour. Finn Pearson had an arrogance and cruelty that ran through his veins, traits that constantly cried out for more occasions in which they could be fuelled. And right now, the one thing he sought above all others was revenge on Raphael Renzo.

  Hanging with his boys outside his home on a chilled, windy evening, he contemplated about that fool on the other side of the city. He had always felt animosity towards Renzo. They became acquainted from a young age. After the riots, both lords kept up the pretence of keeping the peace and arranged several gatherings for the wealthy and prestigious of the city in days afterwards. Finn remembered meeting Raphael when they were both of primary school age. He had immediately disliked the shy, quiet boy who accompanied Lord Renzo and their wealth of servants and acquaintances, as they stepped into the mutual hall where the gathering was being held. An instinct that made Finn want to show the boy who was in charge overpowered him, especially as he knew even from a young age that the Renzos were ‘enemies who we must pretend are our friends’ as his father had told him. With four of his friends, he cornered Raphael outside behind the building. It had been relatively dark and Finn could feel the pleasure seeping through him as the surrounded boy gazed at them in a wild sort of panic. One of his friends had grabbed Renzo’s arms while Finn threw the first punch right into the boy’s stomach.

  They were completely unprepared for what happened next. Raphael cried out in pain and the next moment a ferocious tiger, not yet fully grown, was standing before them, growling and snarling viciously, its tale swishing back and forth. Panicking, Finn and his friends had screamed, which attracted the attention of those inside the hall who came rushing out to see what the commotion was about. Lord Renzo managed to gain control over his son who, even in animal form, could understand human speech and found himself soothed by his father’s appearance, but not before he had dug his claws into Finn’s face, producing a scar that had never fully healed.

  It was this memory that Finn thought of while he ran his finger down his face and past the scar that his enemy had left him with. To others, he bragged that he had survived a brutal attack by a wild beast. This story, while true to an extent, was grossly exaggerated to the point where others hailed Finn as a hero. The only ones who truly knew what had happened were Finn, his friends and Raphael. Raphael received an official ‘warning’ because of his transformation that night. By law, any Morpher who attacked a non-Morpher in deliberation was to be sentenced to death; however, the influence of his father, plus his youthful age, resulted in Raphael receiving a slap on the wrist. There was no mention of the nasty behaviour of the Pearson boy and his friends, their provocation
towards Raphael or how they attacked him, five on one. Finn never quite got over the fact that he hadn’t been able to finish the job, nor the humiliation that it was Renzo who ended up scarring him and not the other way round. But at the same time, mingled with his loathing, there was a deep-rooted fear he felt towards Raphael. This fear turned bitter and twisted as the years went by and the loathing intensified when Raphael made his mark upon society, well-liked and popular with everyone, especially the females. Finn’s intense jealousy for the boy’s character, as well as his ability to Morph which was a gift widely respected by many of his kind, caused a constant itch in him to do his enemy some real harm.

  Now, after the last time the two men came face to face, Finn was determined that Renzo pay for the slight on his pride.

  “We’re gonna corner him, boys,” he said, lighting up a cigarette and taking a long drag. Cigarettes may have been banned a long time ago, but that didn’t mean the thugs were going to be blowing bubbles like everybody else. In front of him, five other men stood, lounging lazily on the walls, smoking their cigarettes and swigging cans of beer.

  “How we gonna do that, Finn?” said one of the men. “What if he switches?”

  Finn growled.

  “Just because he’s a Morpher, it don’t mean he can’t be taken out! What, you think ‘cos he can turn into a kitty cat he’s got some special power over us?”

  That was exactly what the men thought. But Finn glared so ferociously at them that they shook their heads and diverted their eyes.

  “That’s what I thought. I want him spied on. See what he gets up to. Who he goes round with.”

  The men shifted their eyes nervously at one another.

  “Yeah but, Finn, you know that Renzo’s got that sixth sense stuff going on. All the Morphers know when they’re being tracked or watched. It’s the animal blood,” said one.

  “Then make sure you don’t get caught!” snarled Finn.

  “Yeah, but if he catches us, he’ll kill us …”

  “Then kill him first, idiots! Shoot him in the head – I don’t care. Save me the job of it anyway.”