A Wolf's Tear

thirty-nine: eye for an eye

Nathaniel was incredulous. The level of certainty in Harrick’s voice completely floored him. While he was not sure of the safety of his wolves outside, he could not enact sudden actions that would put his wolves at further risk.

He was again, trapped.

The Remmington’s had planned this too far along that it seemed like there was no possible loophole. Still, Nathaniel protested himself. There must be a way. There always is.

He stands besides Jacob, stewing plans. His wolves in the foyer had slowly dispersed and retreated back to their rooms. He took it as a good sign as his wolves were following protocols for safety.

“The gull you have to say that here. You either have no bearings or you’re insane.” His brother stepped closer to Harrick,

“Insane men often are the most refined.” He says. “Now, give me the child and I will take my leave.”

As Nathaniel glared at the wolf, distracted by thinking of ways to mitigate the outcome of his plans, Jacob had other ideas as he draws his blade and thrust it forward. Before the tip of his blade carved a way through Harrick’s guts, a wolf stood in place and took the silvered dagger’s sharpness into her heart. The wolf collapsed, her body thudding as her eyes fluttered close.

The color on Jacob’s face was washed away as he gazed at the person who he had just struck down. Nathaniel’s eyes grew wide as Harrick’s hand dipped into the pocket of his coat and pulled out his Magnum revolver. His finger catching the trigger, pulling it back.

A primal surge within him to protect enabled him to move swiftly, enveloping Jacob into his arms and turning away. He used himself as a shield and tightly wrapped himself around Jacob.

The sounds, the screams, the gasps of the remaining wolves rendered Nathaniel oblivious and stunned while he waited for the pain to start after Harrick pulled his trigger. Despite hearing the gun go off, nothing had happened. No new pain or sensation in his body whatsoever. But he steeled himself, not willing to let go of Jacob until he knew everything was okay.

In his mind, what would happen if he lost him? He quaked at the thought of ever seeing Jacob hurt. He couldn’t handle the idea of losing another person important to him.

“Mom?” Jacob whispers.

Nathaniel’s heart stopped beating momentarily as he opened his eyes.

“Mother!” Jacob wailed as he pushed to get free of Nathaniel’s grasp.

He heaved a heavy breath as Jacob caught Eliza before she fell. It’s that smell again. Nathaniel had first experienced it when he and his father stood outside the birthing room. His father nervously paced back and forth while he was standing next to the door. Jacob senior had that look on his face. The look of a man about to break down on his knees while his wife was opening herself up to bring a new child in life.

Nathaniel didn’t understand nor did he remember the details of that day but he could never forget the smell of his mother’s blood.

His mouth hangs open as the image of crimson red liquid leaked from Eliza’s chest while she lay her head on Jacob’s lap.

“Oops, well. That should be fair at least. An eye for an eye, as they say.” Harrick says as he locks his revolver and concealed it back into his pocket. “Now, give me the brat.”

He should be angry and scream. Charge at the wolf and avenge his mother. But that hopeless despair, its grimy fingers corroded his muscles. He found himself in the same place when he had heard the news of his father’s passing. Incredible silence tormenting the depths of his soul.