Rosaline
Page 8
"She is my world."
"You don’t know what you are saying. It's craziness!" Sabine yelled.
Rosaline stepped away from me. "What's going on here? Who is this, Gideon?"
I reached out my hand to pull her back, but she swatted it away. "Is this your girlfriend…your wife?"
"He wishes," Sabine retorted.
"Sabine, leave," I demanded.
"No. I'm not leaving without you," Sabine replied.
"Who are you?" Rosaline asked, wiping the moisture from her cheek.
"Tell her who I am Gideon," Sabine said snidely.
"She's my sister," I explained, walking toward Rosaline.
"I am not his sister. He's lying to you."
Rosaline looked at me, her eyes red, and her fangs grew. "I don’t appreciate being lied to," she hissed.
"Sabine, get out of here," I yelled, trying to calm Rosaline down.
"No!" Sabine yelled, angrily transforming into her wolf.
Rosaline hissed at her, brandishing her fangs, as Sabine bolted straight toward her. Instinctively, I turned into my wolf and knocked Sabine away before she was able to reach Rosaline.
Sabine whimpered as she fell to the ground, sliding across the wet dirt. I turned to Rosaline, who had jumped into a tree, watching the unfolding events. Instantly, my anger for Sabine swelled, my eyes narrowed, and a growl bolted out from depths of my soul. I turned back to her, ready to rip her neck out, but Sabine had already picked herself up, sprinting toward the safety of the trees. I glanced back to Rosaline.
Wait for me. I pleaded.
"Never!" She hollered.
My heart sank; Sabine had gone too far, and she was going to pay for it, sister or not, I was the alpha, and she had disrespected me one too many times. I knew she would head for home, probably hoping that my mother would step in and try to pacify the situation. Not this time. Sabine would learn her lesson, even if it was her last one.
Sabine pushed her way into the house, transforming into a human mid-step, knowing that I would not kill her in human form. She cowered in a corner, as I moved toward her.
"Calm down, Gideon," my mother said calmly as she stood between me and Sabine, pressing her forehead against my wind-blown fur.
"I'm sorry, Gideon," Sabine pleaded.
"How dare you challenge me?" I bellowed, as I transformed back into a human. My voice so deep, even I didn’t recognize it.
My mother held me back, trying to soothe me with her words. "I know, son. I know. But there is nothing more dangerous than a wolf in love. You need to calm down."
"My love for Rosaline is not dangerous, unless provoked."
"I wasn't talking about your love, son," my mother said, glancing over her shoulder to Sabine, who was still huddled against the corner.
I slowed my breathing and unclenched my fists. The fire in my eyes receded, taking with it some of my anger toward Sabine.
"Gideon, I…" Sabine said before I interrupted her.
"I don’t want to hear what you have to say."
"I only want to protect you. If not out of love, at least out of preservation," Sabine said, standing to her feet.
"What does that even mean, Sabine?" I asked.
Leo walked into the living room, unaware of everything that had just transpired, but the room was thick with tension, and he felt it the minute he walked in.
"What's happened?" He asked, shifting his gaze between me and Sabine.
"Your sister thinks she's the new alpha," I said, turning away from her.
Leo, being Leo, grinned and shook his head. "So, is there going to be a fight?"
Slap!
My mother slapped Leo on the back of the head.
"What?" Leo asked innocently.
"Gideon, let's give her a chance to explain," my mother requested softly.
She was always the voice of reason, so I turned to Sabine and asked, "You have thirty seconds before I unleash the wrath of my father and my father's father on you."
She walked toward me, her body in a submissive posture.
I held out my hand to stop her. "Explain from there."
She froze mid-step. "Mother…your mother is right…I do love you. Since the first day I laid eyes on you all those years ago. And I would want nothing more than to be your wife. But I see now, that will never happen."
"Then why challenge me? Do you have a death wish?"
"I have other reasons. Reasons that I have never shared with you or your family," she said, looking at the ground in shame.
"Your thirty seconds is almost up," I said, as her stalling made my anger grow.
She looked up at me, her eyes shined with tears. "I wasn't abandoned. My mother was a vampire and my father a wolf. I am a product of their mating. I am a transcendent. It's why I look like a vampire, but can transform into a wolf."
My mother gasped. "Why didn’t you tell us?"
She looked away, unable to face my mother. "I was scared you would throw me away. That's what the last pack did when they found out. They didn’t want to risk a death dealer coming to their door. My parents were killed by a death dealer, and he was after me as well, but I escaped and found myself lost in the woods. A pack took me in, but after a few days, I told them the truth and they left me. They left me where you found me."
"Oh, Sabine," my mother said, wrapping her arms around her.
Leo chimed in, "Am I the only one that thinks this is crazy?"
"Shut up, Leo," I growled.
He backed away.
I stepped angrily toward her. "Do you know what kind of danger you put us all in?"
"Yes," she replied, her body trembling.
"What do you have to say for yourself?" I roared, as every nerve ending in my body exploded with fury.
"All I can offer is my life, in servitude, or in death. It is all I have, and it is yours for the taking."
My mother chimed in. "We would never take your life, would we Gideon?" Her eyes were filled with sadness, as she looked to me for an answer.
I turned away. The sight of Sabine infuriated me. "Did you see who the death dealer was?"
"No. I never stopped running long enough to get a good look."
"Of course you wouldn't. You were just a child. Probably scared out of your mind," my mother soothed her.
"I can understand that you were scared. But don’t you think that after a few years with us, you would have known we wouldn't have abandoned you?" I asked, turning back to her.
She moved away from my mother's embrace, and toward me. "By the time I realized that, I had waited too long to tell you. And then I fell in love with you. I just want to keep you safe Gideon. You won't be safe with Rosaline. I can make you just as happy."
I exhaled, and said, "Vampire or not, I love Rosaline. You have to know that. It will always be Rosaline."
She began to cry as she brushed by me, and ran out the door.
My mother looked at me with her soft eyes, which were begging me to give Sabine a second chance.
DELIVERY
ROSALINE
Making my way out of the woods, I slowly walked on the side of the road, pondering the night's events. Nothing in my life made sense; wolves, sisters, lying parents, and soul mates. What was I supposed to do with any of it? The wind blew angrily passed me, carrying with it the sweet scent of blood.
An old jalopy slowed next to me, the driver rolling down his window, as he finally stopped the car.
"Hey, do you need a ride?" The unkempt man asked.
I held my breath. "No thank you." I waved him off.
"No, I think you need a ride," he said, as he turned off the ignition and stepped out of the car.
I turned to him. "You should get back into your car," I warned.
"Don’t think, so sweetie pie," he said with a sinister grin on his face.
I knew he meant me harm, and the closer he inched, the angrier I felt inside. "Sir, I don’t think you understand. You should really get in your car and leave."
He
kept walking towards me, his blood extra sweet, making my mouth water. He stretched out his arm, and grabbed onto mine, yanking me toward him.
"I will give you one last chance to walk to your car," I said angrily, realizing that even if he did drive away, he would do this to another woman…a woman who would not be able to defend herself.
He chuckled. "And what are you going to do about it? What are ya'…a buck ten?"
Nature took over, and before I knew it, I had lodged my hand against his throat, slamming his fragile body to the ground. He struggled against my hand, as I leaned in toward his neck, breathing him in. My fangs grew to full length, his pulsating vein beckoning me to quench my thirst.
"What are you doing?" He whispered with what little voice he could eke out from his crushed throat, his eyes shifting back and forth wildly.
I grazed my lips against his neck. "It's not quite as fun when your prey fights back, is it?"
A car screeched to a halt, and the sound of heels clicking against the asphalt took my attention away from the vagrant.
"Rosaline. Stop!" A familiar voice yelled.
I looked toward the owner of the voice. "Clare?"
"Rosaline, I've been looking all over for you. Don’t do it. Let him go," she begged.
My fangs receded, and the redness that coated my vision dissipated, as I loosened my grip on the man's neck. He gulped a deep breath of air, as he continued to claw at my hand. Clare kneeled down next to me, trying to pry my hand the rest of the way off of his neck.
"Let him go, Rosaline. You don't need trouble from the Dàil. You have enough going on with my parents and William," she said calmly.
She was right. Killing this pitiful excuse for a life would surely get me on the Dàil's kill list.
I turned back to him. "Don't let me catch you talking to women in this town again," I hissed, as I unclasped my fingers from his flesh, and let him loose.
As he scrambled away, he kicked Clare in the stomach; her baby lurched to the side. Her mouth gaped, and time slowed, as I watched her fall to the ground.
Anger filled every cell of my being. How dare he do this to her after she had just saved his life. I growled as I grabbed his ankles, yanking his body back to me. Before he could take another breath, I sank my fangs into the soft flesh of his neck, draining him of the warm red liquid that coursed through his veins and along with it…his life.
My first taste of human blood. I was lost in its captivating decadence. Blinded to everything else in the world…blinded to Gideon, and werewolves, and Clare screaming on the side of the road with blood running down her leg. The whole world, muted and hazy, had no claim to me at this moment.
Rosaline. Gideon's voice snapped me out of my ravenous trance.
My vision cleared, and the sounds of the world came back into focus.
"Rosaline! Help me!" She yelled with so much anguish in her voice, stretching out her hand for me, as she sobbed uncontrollably. "My baby."
I dropped the man's body like a pile of meat on the paved road way, and picked Clare up, cradling her in my arms. I slid her gently into the passenger seat, and then jumped into the driver seat.
"Where should I take you?" I asked in a panic, as I wiped the blood from my lips.
"We're closer to your house. Take me there. Just call my parents," she gasped in pain.
I drove as fast as the car would let me all the way to Weatherly. I pulled my phone out and called my parents.
My mother picked up the phone. "Oh my goodness, Rosaline, where have you been? We have been so worried."
"Mother –"
Clare wailed in pain, clutching on to her swollen stomach. "Stella!"
"Is that Clare?" My mother asked anxiously.
"Yes, she was kicked in the stomach, and now there's blood everywhere. We are on our way. Please call the McAllisters and tell them to meet us there."
"Okay."
I hung up the phone, and laid my hand on her belly. I couldn't feel the baby move, but I could feel her muscles spasm every time she had a contraction.
"Hold on Clare," I said anxiously.
"Rosaline, it hurts," she cried.
"I know my, darling Clare. We are almost there."
The familiar outline of the Weatherly estate grew larger as we neared. Taking the final turn in to the drive way, I slammed on the brakes, screeching to a halt only a few inches from the porch.
In a flash, my father had already opened Clare's door, and gently pulled her from her seat.
"Be careful, daddy!" I yelled, trailing right behind him.
He laid her gently on my bed upstairs, and raked his fingers through her hair. "It's okay Clare, your parents are coming."
"Mother, what are we going to do?"
My mother wrapped her arms around me. "Calm down, my dear, we have this under control. Celeste is on her way with the midwife. They should be here in a few minutes."
"This is all my fault. I shouldn't have run away. I should have stayed. I will never forgive myself." I pulled away from my mother and knelt down at the side of the bed. "Clare, please forgive me?"
She looked at me, her face glistening with sweat, as she cupped her palm to my cheek. "No, my darling Rosaline. This is not your fault. We all play a part in the grand book of life."
"But this can't be your part," I said, rubbing her still belly.
A tear rolled down her cheek, as her parents and Henry burst into the room, her father pushing me to the floor to get to Clare. Henry lay down next to her, wiping the tears from her face.
"Henry," Clare whispered, as he kissed her face.
"The midwife is here, my dear. She will get the baby out safely," Henry said, as Celeste pushed the midwife toward Clare.
The midwife examined her, and then looked up at the McAllisters shaking her head. Celeste and Gregory looked at one another, and then at Clare.
"What?" Clare asked.
They silently shook their heads. Clare paused, as she processed the looks on their face, then let out the hair raising scream of a banshee. Surely, it was loud enough to ring through the entire state of Georgia. I pushed myself off the ground and inched my way to my parents, who were standing at the far corner of the room. My mother held her arm out to receive me, as I buried my face against her neck.
Gregory turned toward us. "Get out of here!"
My father wrapped his arms around my mother and me, guiding us out of the room, and down to the living room.
"What is…going…to happen, daddy?" I asked, my words eking out between sobs.
"The baby didn’t make it. What happened out there?" My father asked, crossing his arms.
"It was all my fault. I shouldn't have left the party. She was out there looking me. This would have never happened if I just listened to you and married William with no opposition."
My mother laid her arm over my shoulders. "Rosaline, we all make mistakes. But you can't blame yourself for this. Tell us what happened."
A deep voice streamed down from the top of the staircase. "Yes, tell us what happened."
Gregory was making his way down the stairs, his hands bloodied, and his face emotionless and tight.
"There was a human…but I killed him. He kicked Clare in the stomach," I tried to explain.
"What were you doing that close to a human?" He asked.
"He was trying to kidnap me, and I was trying to defend myself when Clare showed up, and wanted me to let him go."
Gregory asked again, "So how did a simple human get close enough to kick my daughter's child?"
"Clare knelt down next to me to pry my fingers from his throat, when the man kicked her in the stomach as he was trying to flee."
"So it's your fault I just lost my granddaughter?" He asked.
My father chimed in, "Now, Gregory, I don’t think…"
Gregory interjected, "That's right, you don’t think. You let this little tramp say and do whatever she pleases, leaving my granddaughter to pay the price."
My mother stood from the couch
. "Hold on now. There is no need to toss vulgar names about. My daughter is not a tramp. Impetuous maybe, but a tramp she is not."
Gregory whipped around, his eyes red like hot coals. "Impetuous? I wouldn't call leaving her fiancé at a party with another man impetuous. There is another word I would use for that…"
"Don't you dare finish that sentence, Gregory McAllister," my father roared, stepping in between him and my mother.
I was mortified at the display taking place right before my eyes. Gregory stepped toward my father, with his fists clenched and his fangs at full length.
Celeste screamed from the top of the stairs. "Stop it. This is not a time for savagery. This is a time for mourning."
Before Celeste had finished speaking, my mother had already zipped up the stairs, and wrapped her arms around her as Celeste sobbed into her shoulder.
"Why don’t we just call this whole wedding business off," my father suggested.
"No," Gregory said.
"What do you mean, no? You obviously think of my daughter in an unpleasant light. What use is it to invite her into your family?" My father asked.
"I have done many things to get where I am, and I am not letting some little tramp ruin that for me," Gregory replied in a tight voice.
My father clenched his fist, and with lightning fast speed punched Gregory in the mouth. "I told you to stop calling my daughter a tramp."
Gregory spun around, wrapping his arm around my father's neck, and as he tightened his grip, he said, "Oh, you care about your little tramp. You leave her to me and I'll kill her myself.”
I winced, watching my father locked in Gregory's grip, struggling to free himself. Repositioning his neck, he flung Gregory over his head, causing him to fall on to his back. My father stood in a defensive stance, waiting for Gregory to get up. The fury emanating from the two whipped through the house like a hurricane, both men defending their daughter's honor.
Gregory pushed himself off the ground, and rammed my father into the wall next to the fireplace. Glass picture frames, which had been hanging in the same spot for years, fell off the wall shattering into a million pieces. He fell to the ground, but quickly stood to his feet, and made a bee line, straight for my father.