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Whatever is going to happen to Rose within that dungeon, there's nothing more I can do. Events will play out tomorrow that is only between Arthur and her, the following night will be the last night Arthur and Taft live. With the knowledge Grandpa has right now, knowing the only thing we can do is bide time, I leave Castle Valentine behind and head back to the encampment.
Rose was escorted not more than an hour ago to the dungeon, the night still young as I look to the sky. Energy is drawing close, a peak about to spike come the full moon two nights from now, The Hunt an unforgiving mistress. With the gift of Asteria, Tresor's fallen stars were collected, the rest...
I hear movement and pick up Quinn's scent the second she's within proximity. I halt, waiting and watching as she comes from behind a tree trunk. A soft smile on her features tells me exactly as a reinforcement what I mean to the packs. She asks me, "Did everything goes as planned."
"That depends," I wave my hand as we walk the short distance back to the main encampment, "before or after I had to switch to a different plan."
Her features drop as she replies, "Oh..."
"Rose will fair well," I reassure her, seeing Grandma Laura quickly approach me the second I'm within striking distance. Quinn smiles and nods at me, heading off to the west side of camp. As she meets up with Coen, Grandma Laura stops short of nearly knocking into me.
She's about to reach out, but pulls her arms back, asking me, "Rose?"
"In Arthur's dungeon," I release a sigh, watching her features quickly mull through the multiple emotions she's suddenly stricken by. I urge her though, "She'll be alright, I promise."
Dante already made sure of that...
...his scouts swept the perimeter, grounds, and castle to search for Oleander. Arthur will not be able to poison Rose's blood beyond repair. He won't be able to kill her that easily. I can't say much about the liquid silver and wolfsbane on its own, but at least we won't have to resort to Niles having to save the day.
Grandma Laura shakes herself from the impending doom thoughts a mother has for their daughter when there's nothing they can do for her, "Thank you for helping her any way you could."
"You're welcome," I nod back, watching as I see an interesting sight just over her shoulder. Furrowing my brows, I see Grandpa Sebby sitting with Wyn by the fire, showing him how to make a S'mores.
Grandma Laura traces my line of sight and giggles, "Your friend is quite interesting."
"That's one word to describe him," I shake my head, Marc spilling melted chocolate on his pants while Grandpa Keir watches out over the encampment. His eyes land everywhere, alert and communicating with those patrolling.
"He says you saved his life," Grandma Laura stands with her hands on her hips while turning to watch the cute encounter playing out.
I nod and reply, "I've already caused him so much pain...unintentionally...but, I've caused the damage and I just wanted to repair something that shouldn't have been broken, to begin with."
"Nothing we do can have that much effect on another," Grandma Laura furrows her brows, Quinn quickly coming up to her and handing her what looks like a snowflake pendant...but not. This must be what Grandma Laura manufactured to fight against the council.
I mutter beneath my breath as she turns her attention on Quinn, "You'd be surprised," though I leave her standing there before walking closer to the campfire.
As soon as Wyn sees me, his eyes light up, a smile on his face as he waves me over. This, in turn, pulls Grandpa Sebby's attention and Marc's, the three of them roasting marshmallows over down by the open flames.
"Dot! Dot!" Wyn scotches over and pats the log beside him, grinning from ear to ear as he says, "Alpha Sebastian and Alpha Marc and showing me how to make S'mores."
"You've never had them before?" I ask with curiosity. Sitting beside him, Grandpa Sebby is looking at me with keen eyes, outstretching his hand and handing me a stick after Marc spears it with a marshmallow.
Wyn shakes his head and replies, "No...before I was auctioned off to Aohdan for Laisha's pleasure...I recall growing up at the orphanage."
"Wait, what?" I nearly double take, asking him, "What happened to your parents?"
Wyn's voice lowers, staring into the flames as he sighs, "I don't remember much, just that my mom got really sick when I was little...she was pregnant, and my dad tried to help her...but, when he took her away to get her help..." his voice trails off, pulling the stick away from the flames as the marshmallow had caught on fire, "...I never saw them again."
Wyn blows out the small flame on the marshmallow, Marc's features solemn.
"So...vampires found me wandering the streets and I was quickly placed in an orphanage that raised humans to be eventually auctioned off," Wyn sighs and finishes, "I was put into training at a very young age."
Grandpa Sebby clears his throat and states, "That's horrible. I'm sorry you grew up without family."
"It's okay," Wyn replies, shaking his head as he tries to put the marshmallow together with the chocolate and graham crackers.
The way he sits, not realizing I'm looking at him in different lighting. It might just be the light of the campfire, but I'm brought back to the moment I first met him. I recall...he is a much older slave of Aohdan's.
I never asked about his past...
...I just assumed he was a bred slave of Aohdan's.
It never really occurred to me to ask...everything I thought changed when he asked me if I believe in a higher power, him questioning why he was treated the way he was. It changed me...
Is that why my wolf is so affected by him?
Because he's been hurt and lost?
I just don't understand the connection, the way she's taken to him...
...to risk our life to save him.
"Here," Wyn sweeps the past away under the rug, snapping me from my thoughts as he hands me the S'more he made.
"Oh," I reply, a smile forming on my lips as I take it from him.
Grandpa Sebby and Marc give each other a side-eye, their gazes immediately returning to settle on the two of us. I immediately understand what's going on and I quickly turn away.
It's not like that.
I earnestly reach out to Grandpa Sebby.
And if it was?
I tilt my head to the side as I turn back to face the flames, my heart beating fast as I don't believe this connection is anywhere close to what I feel...for Merle...for Tresor, it's not the same. Yet...my wolf...
It's not. This is not my time era, this is n-
I've seen a larger age gap between mates then you could ever imagine. Dot, do yo-
Stop! Wyn is HUMAN. How could you think...why would you even...?
Grandpa Sebby has never hurt me...never...why would he even entertain this idea?
What's wrong with him?!
My eyes widen, abruptly standing to my feet and turn away.
"Dot?!" Wyn calls after me, looking around in confusion as I quickly dart off into the forest. Tears form in my eyes, not wanting to listen, not wanting to believe anything in this era.
I feel her clouding the corners, bolting forward from the edges of my mind to take control with me. The only thing we stop for is to strip down near a large hollowed out tree stump. Fur replaces skin in a refreshing rebalance, exhaling sharply as my eyes see much differently, hearing sharper, clarity clearing the fog in my mind.
We run.
Faster, away...just, get away.
The snow beneath our paws, sprinting as the moon overhead glimmers through the branches of the snow-covered trees. The crickets chirp, the ravens' caw, sending a shiver down our spine through the end of our tail as it balances us through the tree trunks. We weave, making a trail through the forest as I lose myself slowly in her.
I'm not ready to give over control completely, for fear of what her emotions might wreak havoc in this era.
Slowly, we come to a halt. The cold forms a cloud outside our muzzle, breathing in and out as our muscles are revitalized. I've missed the connection, to breathe and fall into the part of me I've not been able to be much here...having to suppress her. It's hurt, more than anything.
We lick our muzzle, breathing out once more before we start to head back in the direction of the hollowed-out tree stump. We walk, leaving paw prints behind in the snow. It's not long before we approach, but only to pick up on his scent.
Our eyes lock onto Wyn, seeing him holding our clothes while searching the darkness, calling, "Dot! Dot!"
We tilt our head to the side, approaching him cautiously...until he sees us and inhales sharply. We can hear his heart fluttering like that of a hummingbird's wings, his fear taking over him for a moment. He asks when we paw closer, "Dot?"
Our eyes reflect exactly who we are, and he surprises us both...
A sharp bark leaves our lips when the least expected thing occurs. Wyn reaches out and wraps his arms around our neck, his face burying into the side of our neck...
...we don't feel pain.
The curse?
Of skin and flesh...
...how could I not see this before?
Tears are in our eyes as warmth spreads through us all, Wyn crying into my fur and saying, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, whatever I did, I'm sorry..."
Why?
Why do I feel this...?
Wyn still holds the side of our neck, pulling back enough so his eyes search ours, pleading with us. Why? Why does he believe it is his fault? Nothing is his fault, all of it has been mine...
Tresor's words slip through my mind, recalling...
What makes this human so special to be saved though?
He believes in me, though he doesn't know it's me.
We move forward slightly, pressing our forehead against his and feeling the connection flood. The warmth that sparks through our fur is unlike anything close to what I once felt through skin, something...different.
I've seen a larger age gap between mates then you could ever imagine.
Grandpa Sebby's words slip through the clarity that has become a new playing field in my mind...if...if this truly is...
...the only way to set him free.
We can't mark him in skin, the power of the curse too much for me to even stand a simple thing as a kiss...
Our heart beats quickly as we move our muzzle down the side of his face, licking his neck and causing him to let out a quick chuckle. He asks, "Are we okay then?"
I hope so.
We sniff, pushing his clothes away from the top of his shoulder. Our muzzle presses against his collarbone, licking up to the soft spot...
"Dot?" Wyn asks, uneasiness in his voice.
It's quick, startling him and taking him completely by surprise as our muzzle opens and teeth sink into the soft spot of where his shoulder meets his neck. Our eyes snap shut, feeling something evocate through our soul, Wyn crying out sharply for a split second before he grasps our fur harder, holding himself close to us.
Our teeth release his flesh, licking over the mark before we pull back away.
Our eyes meet...
...Wyn's wolf released, free, his golden irises staring back into ours
A dormant half-breed werewolf.
And I thought Rochelle was the only half-breed in Aohdan's possession.
Red Like Roses 🌹
~Kay
⊰♥⊱To Be Continued⊰♥⊱
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