Her Three Wolves

by Lilly Wilder

  I went to sleep feeling more confident and comfortable than I had at any other point during my captivity. Something horrible had almost happened to me, but I had managed to evade that fate and now I had the chance to fight back. I would get Jamie alone again and try and turn him to my side because I knew I could offer something that his brothers couldn’t, and in my experience men were all too willing to sacrifice anything for their desire, even the people closest to them.

  12

  When the morning came I noticed that it was Logan, not Jamie, who brought me my food.

  “Where’s Jamie today?” I asked.

  “He’s looking after Jackson,” Logan said, and then slammed the door. I didn’t know why they were so angry with me when they were the one who had tied me down to an altar and almost raped me. I knew that I would never have any affinity for them, and at the first moment that presented itself I was going to escape and never look back.

  I was glad to have had a bath, but I couldn’t help wondering what had attacked the cabin. They were obviously on the run from someone, but who? And why would these people be hunting for the brothers? I tried to piece together the story from the limited information I had. I was still sticking with my theory that Logan and Jackson had been in the military, so maybe this was someone from their past, maybe a relative of someone they couldn’t defend? Or they had tried to stop someone, tried to fight a war in their own country and it hadn’t gone the way they expected. Logan didn’t want to take Jackson to a hospital despite the severity of his injuries; this suggested to me that their privacy was paramount. They were hiding here, and they had something to do, and somehow I was a part of it. But no matter how much I thought I couldn’t see where I fit in. The only person who could tell me that was Jackson, because I knew that Logan and Jamie were too obedient.

  The one thing I was sure of was that I didn’t want to end up in a situation like earlier. I vowed to myself that I would do anything before being strapped to that altar and held there to be used by them however they saw fit. I wasn’t going to have my body reduced to a simple object. I wished now that when I had been released I had taken more notice of what was on the altar, for I was sure it would have given me a clue about what they were trying to accomplish, but I had been too busy saving Jackson’s life to look.

  Part of me did wonder if I should have let Jackson die, but the thought made me shudder. I’ve always turned my back on the world, and I certainly didn’t owe these men anything, but to see him dying there, knowing that you can do something but not? That’s not something I can get behind. It’s the same reason why I came after Mel, after all.

  Time passed slowly, as it always tended to do, and I thought again and again about the questions running through my mind. I did look to the horizon out of the window, gazing into the thicket of trees, wondering if at any point a savior was going to come and pluck me from this prison before it was too late, but it seemed as though Jackson’s threat had chilled Mel, for if she had spoken about this someone would have come. I wondered if Mel had changed in any way because of her experiences here. I wondered if she had become more responsible and a little more discerning with whom she spent her time, but I doubted it. Mel was always quick to push away thoughts of tragedy and I didn’t see why this time would be any different.

  I was expecting Logan to come and bring me lunch, for they had been good at keeping to a schedule, but when he didn’t appear on time I began to grow worried. Was this some kind of punishment for what I had done to Jamie, or had someone else found them and they had been attacked? I assumed I would have heard something if that was the case, but I couldn’t be sure. I grew anxious and paced around the room, breathing with relief when the door opened and Logan was standing there, but he wasn’t holding a tray of food.

  “Come with me. Jackson wants to see you.”

  “Wait, what?” I asked, surprised to hear that Jackson was conscious, let alone able to speak.

  “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? I wouldn’t delay if I were you.”

  “But how is this possible? He should be dead.”

  “I told you that he heals well. He’s grateful for what you did and he’d like to thank you.”

  “How magnanimous of him,” I said haughtily, but I wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to speak to the one man who might give me questions. Logan led me to the other room and as we walked through the cabin I peered around to try and catch a glimpse of Jamie, but he didn’t seem to be there, and I didn’t think Logan would tell me even if I asked.

  Logan showed me into Jackson’s room, which was at the rear of the cabin near the entrance to the basement. It was a large room with a bookshelf on one side and a desk on the other. The bed was placed against a window, with the outside light shining down onto it, and currently Jackson was laying there under the covers, shirtless, his broad chest rippling with masculine energy, the wound looking much better than I would have predicted. There was some discoloration around the wound, but other than that it looked fine, certainly different to the deep gash I had seen. I started to question myself, wondering if I had actually seen that or if I had made things worse in my mind given the circumstance of the situation.

  I stepped into the room and perched on the edge of the bed. Jackson looked at me and then nodded towards Logan, who left shortly after. Jackson looked tired, the lines on his face were pronounced and his eyelids were heavy. Bags sagged under his eyes and every breath was labored. He may have healed well, but it looked to me as though there was still a lot of healing to do.

  “You saved me,” he said in a neutral tone. I wasn’t sure if that counted as a ‘thank you’ or not, although I certainly wasn’t getting the sense that he was grateful, as Logan had stated.

  “I did,” I replied, equally as neutrally.

  “Why?”

  I pressed my lips together, trying to figure out if I should answer him with the truth or with what I thought he wanted to hear, but to be honest I got the sense that I couldn’t fool him. He must have been practiced with liars as whenever I’d tried to tell him anything before he had always dismissed me and hadn’t given me any kind of respect, which I thought was strange if Jamie was right and I was here to save them from whatever they needed saving from. And, really, I was getting tired of acting. I was cooped up in this cabin and I simply didn’t have the energy to appear to be someone else to this wounded man, so for a rare time in my life I decided to tell him the unadulterated truth.

  “Because it was the right thing to do. I’m by no means a good person, but I don’t let people die. If I hadn’t done anything you would have bled out. What you should be concerned about is why your brothers wouldn’t take you to the hospital. I know you’re out here keeping yourself quiet for a reason, but is it really that important that they’d risk your life for it?”

  “They were acting under my orders.”

  “Orders…military again. Look, I think I’ve got a pretty good grasp on you, so how about you just tell me what the hell is going on here and we can be done with it? I mean, clearly you’re in danger if people are coming to this place and attacking you, and frankly I don’t want to be caught in the middle. What you tried to do to me was…unspeakable, but if there’s a way for me to help you and keep safe then I’ll take it. What do you need from me? If you tell me, I might be able to give it to you willingly and then we can avoid any…unpleasantness.”

  Jackson inclined his head and raised his hand, wincing as he did so. He stroked his cheek as he looked at me, his piercing eyes staring right through me. I could look at Jamie and not feel threatened, and even Logan ha a playful gleam, but looking into Jackson’s eyes was something else. He was a powerful man and he wasn’t going to let anyone force him into anything. He studied me for a few moments and then opened his mouth.

  “There are many secrets I and my brothers have held close to us, and I’m not sure you are ready to hear them. But I understand how challenging this experience must be to you. Believe m
e, I would not be doing this if it was necessary. I think I have been too zealous in my pursuit of this goal.”

  He leaned his head back and rubbed his temples.

  “What goal? What are you talking about? I’m ready for any secret you can give me. All I want to know is what you’re doing here and why I’m apparently so special?”

  Jackson was evidently struggling with something, but I wasn’t sure why. “Jackson, I saved your life, all you have to do is tell me the truth. Is that really so difficult?”

  “All my life I have been taught that telling the truth could get me killed,” he said absently, so quietly that I wasn’t sure I was meant to hear it, but I couldn’t ignore it.

  “And I’ve been taught that nobody is ever going to have any use for me. You need to tell me what’s going on. You owe me.”

  “I do, I suppose,” he sighed wearily and adjusted his position to sit up more. I saw his abs tighten as he curled his body. “Perhaps I have handled this matter incorrectly. But once you know of our story you will understand. But if I tell you, do you promise to listen to me until I have finished, no matter what I say?”

  I nodded, glad to finally be getting some answers.

  “Then I suppose I should begin. You might think that you have a good estimation of our lives by your observations, but I’m here to inform you that you’re wrong. We do not have any history in the military at all, rather we have been part of a clan, and our clan was attacked. Our family, everyone we knew and loved was killed, and we are all that remains. It is our duty to continue the traditions and the way of life, and to make the clan strong again, to see that it doesn’t turn into dust and ash. We are on a spiritual mission to reclaim our heritage and ensure that the sacrifices of the clan were not in vain.”

  I stared at him blankly, unsure if any of that actually went to answering my questions. I frowned and started to wonder if actually I had been completely wrong and these people were all just insane. This talk of clans and wars was too unbelievable for me. It seemed as though Jackson had become delirious. I imagined he must have had an infection.

  “I’d better call Logan. I think you’re losing your mind.”

  “I knew you wouldn’t understand,” he said, laughing dryly, and his laugh immediately turned into a cough.

  “Okay, then tell me more, what even is a clan? I mean, you’re not Native American. Is it like some kind of club? I’ve never heard of anyone having a clan before.”

  “Tell me one thing Millie; do you believe in a world greater than your own? Do you believe in things that at first glance don’t make any sense?”

  “I’m believing in this conversation…I believe things when I see them. If someone tells me something that seems outlandish I will wait for proof. There are too many fake people in this world for me to do otherwise. And no, I don’t really believe in a bigger world or some hidden realm. We have this world, and that’s it, no more, no less.”

  “I see.”

  “Do you? Because I certainly don’t. I don’t want a part of your war Jackson. If you’re being attacked then you’ve got to let me go, or tell the police or something. You can’t just stay in this cabin and wait for whoever it is to find you. There are other options. Why are you so determined to live in secrecy? What is so special about the three of you that you can’t go to the hospital or live in a city? Why can’t you tell me anything? This doesn’t make any sense and I’m getting so fed up with the way you’re just sitting there staring at me with the stupid smirk and you expect me to take whatever it is you say at face value. I’m done with this. This is all some sick game and I’m not going to play anymore. I’m going to leave, and if you want to try and stop me then you can just go ahead and kill me because you’re not giving me any answers at all. You’re just inventing a story to amuse yourself, and I’m not going to be a toy.”

  I rose from the bed sharply and turned on my heels, ready to storm out. I knew a man like Jackson would appreciate a showing of strength, and I was right. But more than that, I was getting frustrated with all this obfuscation. I wasn’t going to stand there and be insulted by having my mind toyed with. I wasn’t going to be a part of this ridiculous game. Either he could tell me the whole truth, or I was going to risk it all by leaving. Frankly I didn’t mind because I didn’t see that much good awaited me anyway even if I stayed alive. Jackson was out of his mind.

  “Wait,” he said as I reached the door, stretching out my hand to turn the knob. “I’ll tell you,” he said. “I and my brothers are werewolves.”

  13

  I stared at him and then I threw back my head and burst out laughing. “Are you kidding me? Jackson, I’ve had enough of this. I don’t know why you brought me here but I’m done,” I said, and turned away from him again. But, behind me, I heard movement on the bed. I heard the crack of bones and a growl. My skin prickled and I slowly turned around, and when I did the color drained from my face and I pressed my back against the door, holding myself rigid. Where Jackson had been sitting now was a wolf, with dark fur, beady eyes, and a wet smile filled with sharp, jagged teeth. The breath rushed out of me and I went weak at the knees. This had to be wrong. This had to be a trick. Had my orange juice been spiked? Was this some kind of nightmare? I clawed at the door as I stared at the beast. He was a wolf, and yet was bigger than a traditional wolf; he had the build of a man, using his arms as arms and hands rather than just legs and paws. There were great claws stretching out of his fingers and his nose twitched as he sniffed the air.

  Then, before my eyes, he shifted back to a man. The snout receded into his face, the fur was welcomed back into the flesh, and the jagged teeth returned to their normal appearance. I blinked and could barely believe that there had been a wolf sitting in front of me where now there was a man. I shook my head, my mouth still hanging open like a fish gasping for air.

  “Please don’t make me do that again. It takes a lot out of me in my current condition,” he said.

  “What…what…?”

  “You asked to see the truth. This is the truth. This is what I am, what we are.”

  “But you’re a…you’re a werewolf.”

  “Yes, I am,” he said, speaking in a matter of fact manner. His calm demeanor was at odds with the raging thoughts in my mind. I couldn’t believe this. I couldn’t believe him.

  “That’s not possible.”

  “You just saw me with your own eyes. What more proof do you need?”

  “But…but how?”

  Jackson sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s a long story, but suffice it to say there is truth in your fairytales, although the exact details get somewhat lost over time.”

  “And Logan and Jamie are the same?”

  “Indeed, who do you think that wolf you met on your journey here was; none other than my youngest brother.”

  I staggered to the bed once more, unable to remain standing. My mind was whirling with thoughts and possibilities. I thought back to that wolf and how it seemed to have human qualities, how it seemed to be leading me to this place, and how it had stopped me when I had been captured. I thought it had been a guide, perhaps even a spirit animal, but it had just turned out to be Jamie, and I realized now why I hadn’t seen the wolf around. In fact I had, but it just so happened that the wolf was in human form.

  “Why did you bring me here? Did you intend to sacrifice me?”

  Jackson looked shocked at the idea. “Oh no! Not at all. We would never do anything like that.”

  “Then what did you bring me here for? Why tie me down? Why put me on that altar?”

  Jackson breathed long and slow again. “If you want answers to your questions then you must be quiet and listen,” he said. I held my tongue, even though it was difficult, and looked at him intently.

  “The wolves have lived within human civilization for a long time. None of us are quite sure how the first wolves emerged to discover these abilities, but one thing we quickly learned was how mistrustful
and fearful humans could be when faced with something new. In the old days it was never that bad because the wolves could live in their own villages away from the main human towns. We could make homes in forests and mountains, in places where humans dared not tread. We developed our own culture and split off into various clans, and for a time we were safe. Some, of course, preferred to live as a human, but even then they could not resist indulging their shifting side and these are presumably the source of your fables. But over time humanity spread across the world like a disease. They dominated the natural world and infected it with civilization, so much so that the wolves had nowhere to hide. We had to change our way of living and hide in human culture because there was nowhere else for us to go, but we never lost sight of our true nature. We lived two lives, but the clans stayed bonded, meeting whenever they could. Traditions were passed down from father to son, as were blood feuds.

  Over the years the wolves learned how to blend in with humanity, how to be skilled at hiding our true natures. Occasionally wolves stray and make mistakes, but there are never enough for anyone to become suspicious, and if there are they never find enough to confirm their suspicions, or people never believe them. For the most part we are left to live our lives in peace and we often do, but there are those who would seek to cause us harm.”

  “These blood feuds?”

  Jackson nodded. “I would prefer them to fade away. Some of them have lingered for years, centuries even, and show no sign of abating. Most wolves do not bother with them, for we have all come to understand that some traditions should be forgotten. But, occasionally, along comes a wolf who wishes to return things as they were, to bring back the old days where we are beholden by tradition and where the blood feuds boiled over to create great clashes.”

  “And now you’re embroiled in a blood feud?”

  Jackson nodded somberly. “There is a wolf named Ishmael who would seek to destroy us. The feud goes back centuries where our ancestor apparently stole a kill from Ishmael’s ancestor and thus stole his honor. The truth of the matter is disputed of course, but there is no way to know the details in any case, and quite honestly it doesn’t matter. Both clans live in the same manner. It is just a matter of principle for Ishmael, but all his calls for combat have been declined. None of us wanted a fight, so he brought one to us. He and his clan slaughtered our home, killed every one of us, and only the three of us escape alive. We retreated here, but he has scouts searching the country for us, wanting to see an end, believing that only by wiping out the clan can he make amends for his ancestor. That’s what wounded me.”