On the way, a hand reached out and grabbed her arm.
“Can I talk to you for a second?”
Raphael had followed her; her heart pounded as she looked up at him, unable to look him directly in the eye while his grip tightened around her wrist.
“Sorry, I really need to use the toilet,” she said quickly, shrugging him off.
“Right – of course – sorry,” he said shortly.
She practically zoomed into the toilet, breathing deeply in and out; she washed her hands and returned to her table. Daphne and Edge were on the dance floor by now, while Marcos was still busy chatting up the girl from Daphne’s college. Joey had gone one step further than Marcos because he and the other girl were locked in a passionate embrace. Ricardo was staring at Daphne with an unreadable expression on his face. Lucas leaned over to Skye and said,
“Fancy a dance?”
Finishing the last of her champagne, Skye replied,
“Sure, why not?”
She took Lucas’s outstretched hand and followed him to the dance floor where loud Reggae music was blasting out. She couldn’t help sneaking a few more peeks over at Raphael, whose eyes followed her wherever she walked; his table already had about six empty bottles of beer on it. Sasha seemed to be trying to persuade him to dance.
Pay more attention to your girlfriend, Skye thought tetchily, as Lucas took her by the arms and started to dance with her. They danced for a while and Raphael continued to glare over at them; to the left of them, Skye witnessed Ricardo and Edge inches away from each other’s faces, hostile glares on both of them. It appeared that Ricardo had tried to break into Edge’s and Daphne’s dance and Edge had violently rebuked his advances. Daphne was yelling something to the both of them, but Skye couldn’t hear what it was, though one thing she knew for sure was that drama was about to kick off.
“Hey, let’s go over here for a bit, it’s quieter.”
Lucas pulled her towards a more deserted area of the bar where the music was not so loud. Skye could smell the alcohol on his breath and she did not like the way he suddenly pulled her close as they came to a standstill.
“I must say, you’re looking very nice tonight,” he said, moving closer to her. “But then again, I’ve always thought you look nice.”
And with that, he leaned in to kiss her. Skye backed away, horrified.
“Erm, Lucas, I’m sorry, I think you’ve got the wrong idea –” she stammered, as he gripped her waist and shoved his face into hers.
“I really haven't,” he mumbled, but he was suddenly pushed backwards by someone who appeared at that moment.
“Get away from her,” snarled Raphael, for it was indeed he; his chest was heaving and his eyes had turned bright orange. Skye could smell his scent; it was also mixed with a lot of alcohol. Lucas regained his balance and glared at him. Skye stared at Raphael in shock.
“Raphael – what are you doing?” she shrieked. “Just go away, I’m fine!”
Lucas smiled in a rather nasty way.
“See? She’s fine. So back off, buddy,” he said, grabbing Skye by the waist once more.
“I said get away from her!” roared Raphael.
In that instant, Skye knew exactly what was going to happen.
“Raphael – NO!” she screamed.
But it was too late. She had sensed the rage that was running through him; she witnessed his eyes switch to fire; she saw how shaky he was right before it happened. Raphael’s transformation into a tiger was immediate. The enormous furry body appeared seemingly from nowhere, the black and orange stripes luminous beneath the lights; the tiger cornered Lucas, who was frozen with fear, and bared its sharp fangs at him. Skye knew she had to act right now. She knew the dangers a Morpher faced if he transformed purely on emotion; if she didn’t do something, Raphael would kill Lucas.
In that split-second of desperation and just as Raphael made a lunge for the petrified boy, she transformed into a wolf, the clothes shredding from her body. Everyone in the bar screamed in horror at the sight of these two powerful beasts that were now locked in a vicious fight, snarling horribly at one another. The wolf had landed on the tiger before he could reach his target, her fangs sinking into his leg. The tiger let out a thunderous roar and turned on her, his huge, pointed fangs taking a snap at her tail, which she dodged.
Raphael, please! she thought frantically, trying to convey her emotions to him. Stop! Stop this! Please! You have to calm down! People are going to get hurt!
Whether it was something she was trying to tell him or whether Raphael’s human mind suddenly came to its senses, the tiger let out one last deafening roar and sprinted from the bar; people screamed in terror, dodging him as he bounded past. Skye knew it was not safe for her to stay there; at any rate, the whole place was emptying fast as people scrambled to get out, fearing for their very lives. Skye did not know what had happened to her companions at the table, but she didn’t wait to find out. Mimicking the tiger, she dashed out of the doors and ran as fast as she could down the dark roads. She had to get back to her house, transform and pull on a new set of clothes (her party outfit was destroyed) and – she was determined – she had to find Raphael and talk to him; she had to find out why he behaved like that and what his problem was! He doesn't speak to her for the past two weeks and then, suddenly, he shows up with his girlfriend and almost kills the guy from her work? Undoubtedly, he thought Lucas was harassing her and felt an urge to protect her, as he always did – but Raphael had said he would forget about having her back when they had argued! What right did he have to intrude like that, especially after not seeing her for weeks? All these questions swarmed manically in her mind as she stealthily raced through the streets, thanking the heavens that it was so dark that hardly anyone could see her. Heart beating wildly, she continued to her destination, trying to prepare herself for the inevitable confrontation that was to occur.
Chapter Eighteen
“Erm – hello? It’s Skye! I was wondering if Raphael’s there?”
“Just a moment please.”
Skye stood outside the House of Renzo in a green tracksuit, shivering slightly from the cold, but mainly from her nerves. She moved a step away from the intercom, having just spoken to the butler. It was a starry night and a part of her could not quite believe she was there, requesting to see him. She had managed to arrive back home earlier, jumped through the window, transformed and changed into a tracksuit. Her mother was downstairs playing cards and entertaining some friends and she told her she was going to get a cab to Daphne’s house as she had spilled drinks on her outfit and had had to come back in order to change. Her mother personally called the cab and gave her money to pay for it to ensure she definitely would not be catching the shuttle-bus at that time of the night. So Skye jumped in the cab and informed the driver to take her to Notting Hill. Of course, she could not be certain that Raphael was even there, but it was worth a shot.
And now here she was, feeling like a fool, waiting in the dark chilly night for someone who might not even be there or, worse, would not want to see her.
“I apologize, Madam, but Master Raphael wishes to see no visitors at this present moment,” emitted the voice through the intercom some minutes later, confirming Skye’s fears.
“Oh, please,” she said in desperation, huddling herself. “Can you please just ask him if he’ll see me for a few minutes? It’s really important that I speak with him.”
Ten minutes later, the butler’s voice crackled through the intercom again.
“Master Raphael will see you briefly,” he said.
The great gates swung open and Skye hurried towards the four pillars and enormous front door. The butler, Forbes, appeared from behind it, swinging it open and bowing to her slightly.
“Shall I escort you, Miss Archer?” he queried. “Master Raphael is in his chambers.”
“Um … no, that’s OK, I remember where it is,” she replied.
She made her way up the grand spiral staircase, feeling more
nervous now than she had the entire night. Beads of sweat were actually dripping down her forehead as she stopped outside the door with the tiger’s face sculpted into it. With a deep breath, she knocked several times.
“Come in,” came Raphael’s faint voice.
Slowly, she swung the door open and stepped inside the dimly-lit room. Raphael was sitting on his four-poster, his back to her. His strong torso was visible to her as he was not wearing a shirt and instead seemed to be nursing a wound on his arm as he held a tight flannel to it and there was a small bowl of water by his feet. Her chest thumping wildly, she stepped forward in a tentative manner and closed the door behind her.
“Raphael?” she said meekly.
He did not turn to face her. She walked up to him and saw the nasty bite mark on his arm as he dabbed at it with the warm flannel.
“Oh!” she cried out. “That – that was me! Raphael, I – I’m sorry –”
“Don’t apologize,” he said, his tone sharp. He still would not look at her.
“I’ve hurt you – I didn’t mean to –” she stammered, but he cut her off.
“I’m glad you did. I’m disgusted with how I behaved. You have no idea how sorry I am for what I did. Please … apologize to that boy. I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry. For everything.”
He looked so downcast that Skye’s heart melted at the sight; she forgot her nerves and wished she could comfort him. But his whole aura was ice cold.
“Why did you come here?” he asked her quietly.
She cleared her throat.
“Because I wanted to see how you were … If you were OK …”
“Well … now you know I’m not doing so great. Was that all?”
“Yes – I mean, no,” Skye shook her head, jittering from one foot to the other.
“Then what else?”
“It’s just – I wanted to know – why did you do that?” she blurted out. “Why did you come to the bar tonight? Why did you flip out at Lucas?”
“I saw him get too close and I saw that you didn’t like it,” replied Raphael flatly. “I swore I’d always have your back … It got me angry … You know that I always want to jump in when I see people in trouble.”
“But – but we haven’t spoken for days!” exclaimed Skye. “And last time we spoke – you said you weren’t going to watch out for me anymore. And that’s fine because that’s what I asked you to do. But –”
“Just because I said that, it doesn’t mean I would stop looking out for you,” he said in a hardened tone. “When I make promises, I tend not to break them.”
“It’s just – it doesn’t make sense,” said Skye in an exasperated voice. “If you feel so protective over me, why haven’t you spoken to me for two weeks?”
“Well, how could I? You were pretty angry last time we spoke.”
“So were you! See, I thought we weren’t friends anymore, that’s why I don’t understand –”
“There is nothing to understand,” said Raphael shortly. A pained look came into his eyes.
“I think you should go … I did a terrible thing tonight and I don’t think I’ll be able to forgive myself for it. I over-reacted and attacked a defenceless person. It’s unforgivable.”
At that moment, there was a sharp rap on the door.
“Oi, Raph, you in there?”
Raphael rose from his bed.
“That’s Joey. I’d better go talk to him quickly before he tells everyone what happened. Hopefully he hasn’t already … I’ll be back in a moment.”
He left the room and Skye was left alone, feeling highly despondent. She sat herself on the bed for a minute, burying her head in her hands. Raphael’s remorse for his actions tonight was so powerful that she practically felt it herself. His sadness had seeped throughout the room. He had said it would be best if she left … He didn’t want her there … She couldn’t understand what was going on … Raphael could not even look her in the face … Did he detest her that much?
She caught a sudden glimpse of the bronze door in his room which was normally locked shut. She noticed it was slightly ajar this time. In her glum state, she realized she’d always been mildly curious about entering the room, but Raphael had never let her in during the times she’d been round. She knew it was his art room and how notoriously shy he was when it came to his paintings. But it wouldn’t hurt to take a sneak peak surely? She could still hear him talking in low tones with his brother outside the room. She got up from the bed and crept towards the door, opening it wider and silently entering.
At first, all she noticed was how colourful the room actually was. A great deal of paint pots and canvasses were scattered about, as were paintbrushes and aprons. There were a lot of paintings that hung on the wall, remarkable paintings that looked truly professional. She recognized a couple of portraits of Lord Renzo and a very beautiful woman who must have been Raphael’s mother; he had her exact eyes, stunning green and almond-shaped. Skye smiled.
But it was when she walked further into the room and caught sight of a selection of paintings that were half hidden behind a large curtain that the smile froze on her face.
“Oh my gosh,” she whispered, peering closer at the first painting that caught her eye. “That’s me.”
There was no mistaking it. Raphael’s talents as an artist were impeccable and the portrait she saw before her was definitely of herself. The brown of her eyes, the doe-shape, even the serious expression she often had on her face … The small lips, the tanned skin colour … Everything was exact. The amount of care and time that had gone into this painting was evident; she was staggered.
Why did Raphael paint a picture of me?
But her shock only amplified when she pulled back the curtain and saw the rest of the paintings.
There were about seven in total. The first two were other portraits of her, one of them a full-body one and the other portraying her as having half a human face and half a wolf face. The next was a large colourful painting of a wolf and a tiger running over the hills, the sun beaming down on them. But it was the last few paintings that were the most captivating: in each one, a white wolf and an orange tiger with black stripes were embracing, their bodies intertwined as they nuzzled one another, each creature portraying an expression of pure bliss on its face. In one painting, the tiger stood over the wolf, their tails coiled together, while the wolf gazed upwards, their noses touching. In another, the two beasts lay side by side with the wolf pushing its head underneath the tiger’s muzzle. Another painting showed the wolf lying underneath the tiger, while the tiger gently caressed it, its tongue licking the wolf’s face. In each portrait, the animals lay underneath a full moon or on a hillside under a blinding sunset. But the very last painting, the oil not yet dry, showed the face of a white wolf inside a heart-shaped border that was tinted with orange and black.
Skye felt as though she was in some kind of bizarre, warped dream that she couldn’t understand. These paintings … Why did Raphael have these paintings? Paintings that were so … intimate?
She heard a noise behind her and, snapping out of her shock, she spun round.
Raphael stood before her, white-faced. His eyes darted from the paintings and then back to her; his entire body was frozen stiff and he seemed unable to move or speak. For a while they just stood there, staring at each other. It was hard to say who looked more stunned.
“Raphael,” Skye finally croaked. “I don’t understand … Why did you paint these?”
“I thought I closed this door,” was his response, his throat extremely dry.
“What does this mean?” she said, feeling petrified yet determined that he should answer her.
“I – I think you should go,” he muttered, averting his gaze to the floor.
“No, Raphael, tell me! Why have you painted these pictures? Of me, of a white wolf, of a tiger? In those – those positions?”
Raphael’s cheeks flushed a deep red.
“I just like to paint, alright? I told you not t
o come in this room –”
“Just tell me why you painted these! Tell me!”
“You know why … Look, Skye, just go, please …” His green eyes flitted from side to side in desperation, like a cornered animal. Skye’s frustrations overpowered her shock for the first time, her fists clenched.
“No I do not know and I am not going until you tell me why! So just tell me, Raphael, I want to know!”
“Because I love you! I painted them because I love you!”
Defeat conquered his face and he turned his back, bowing his head and leaning against the wall as though some inner turmoil was writhing within. Skye could only stare at his back with her mouth hanging wide open. This was surely not happening … Had she heard him right? He loved her?
“W – what?” she whispered. “You – you what …?”
“I said I love you!” he repeated in a struggling voice. “So you can go now because you heard what you wanted to hear!”
“But … I don’t understand … How can this be true … What about Sasha …?”
Raphael rounded on her in frustration.
“Sasha? Why are you bringing her up? I can’t believe this! I tell you how I feel about you and you bring up Sasha?”
“I thought you were together … I thought she was your girlfriend …”
Raphael looked utterly exasperated and he banged the wall with his fist.
“I have told you so many times, she is not my girlfriend and I have no interest in her whatsoever!”
“No,” said Skye, shaking her head and swallowing hard. “I saw you … at the celebrations …”
“You saw what?”
“I saw you kissing ... I came into the jazz room and you were both there kissing …”
How The Wolf Lost Her Heart Page 22