It has been nearly seven years since the sacrifice was made, and several months since the battle of the Heart was lost. The young warrior found himself losing interest in just about everything. Despite his initial thirst for revenge, he allowed himself to fall apart. Days and weeks at a time he would be found locked in his quarters, refusing to come out for any reason. He mourned the death of his lover… as he now would consider her. However, things have not been running any smoother for those back at the castle. We enter the story once again at nightfall, with the moon shining behind the stormy clouds…
* * * * * *
The thin fabric of her dress trailed behind her, dragging on the ground. It framed her thin figure snugly, almost like it was a part of her. Hollow black eyes stared up at the castle hungrily…
Inside, there was turmoil. At least one fifth of the Coven had left, and two more sections were teetering on the edge. Still, Cameron refused to give in to their wishes. His steel blue eyes glared at anyone, as if daring them to speak. Finally, they did, though he wished they hadn’t.
“She can’t be your equal,” one vampiress growled. “It’s not acceptable.” Her medium-length silver hair gleamed in the faint light from the gas lamps.
The young woman’s sister spoke up as well, placing a hand on her chest as she spoke. “I for one, agree with Tanya. This is unacceptable; this goes against our laws—“
“Our traditions,” Cameron sighed and placed his feet up on the table as he leaned back, making himself comfortable for the long verbal war that was sure to ensue. “There is nothing in the books about this. It’s a preference that I do not share.”
“Preference or not, this is tearing our family apart. I will not stand for this!”
Cameron chuckled dryly and gestured towards her. “Well then, sit your ass down,” he glared, “or get. Out.“ His patience was wearing thing, and he wanted to make it clear to them that he would not be giving in on this subject.
“I’d prefer it, if you didn’t speak to her that way.” Serena’s mate, Dominic, maintained an even tone, though he wanted very much to punch his Coven Leader in the throat.
Choosing to ignore the statement—and avoid another argument—he went on. “What I’m saying is: I’m not going to let her go.”
“So,” Tanya asked again, “you would choose her over us?”
Is this really about the Coven anymore, he wondered. What he said aloud, however, was something different. “If by ‘us’, you mean the Coven, then I would say that I will not deny her entrance into our family. Just as Gabriel did not deny you,” he reminded her.
Having been reminded of the time when she was being hunted, and granted refuge, Tanya bit her tongue. “The circumstances are differ—“
“And the Coven leaders are different as well, may I remind you. Do not mistake me for Gabriel, Tanya; he was your mate, but I am not.” He called an end to the meeting, ignoring the murmurs that erupted as he headed for the door. At least he’d had the satisfaction of seeing Tanya’s embarrassed look before it was all over.
Stubborn woman. She had managed to slip into Gabriel’s bed, and gain favor with him, but that was him. For a few years she tried to do the same to Cameron, but he’d been too wrapped up in his pursuit of Renee to care for much else. Or, maybe it was because Tanya was so easy to get that she didn’t capture his attention. A moment later he found himself in the comfort of his own room. There, waiting by the window, was exactly what he needed.
Her worried expression was welcoming compared to the hostile glares he’d been receiving for the past few days since he came out and officially took Camille as his mate. Admittedly, he’d had a lot of pressure from Camille. She thought it was best to be honest with them and tell them sooner than have them find out later. Finally after a good four months he did just that. Not that it mattered when or how they found, they still didn’t and wouldn’t approve of it.
A lock of her hair had fallen across her face, partially obscuring her left eye as she tilted her head. “So… how’d it go?” He’d asked her to stay behind, despite her protests. And maybe he’d been right to ask her to stay in their room. More than likely a fight would ensue between her and some of the more volatile vampires, and she would not be letting them smack her around.
“Same as always,” he shrugged.
Camille bit her lip. “I’m sorry I’m causing so much trouble.” It seemed like it was the only thing she was really good for lately. That and… no, just that. “Maybe I should talk to them. You know… since I’m kinda the problem here?”
“They’d rip you apart, and it’s fine. I have it under control,” he tossed his coat onto the floor and then let himself fall back onto the bed, his left leg dangling off the edge.
She rolled her eyes. “Right, just like yesterday when about twenty of them walked out,” she muttered. Feeling his glaring eyes on her, she sighed. “I’m sorry okay. I just really think you’re going about this the wrong way. I think if I could just talk to them, then maybe we could reach some sort of agreement.”
“Oh yeah, like what,” he smiled back and added a good dose of sarcasm to his voice, “You can stay as long as they get to ridicule you like before?”
“No, like maybe letting them know that I won’t be trying to overstep your authority, or try to influence your decisions, which is really what I think they’re afr—“
“Camille,” he waved her over and when she was close enough he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close until she toppled onto him, “if I told them that you couldn’t influence me to do what they want, I’d be lying.”
The tension eased for a moment and she smiled at him before going in for a kiss. “Well you always were a bit of a liar…”
“Touché.” He reached around her to pull her clothes off, breaking the kiss for a moment. Something called to him, and he found himself glancing over at the window. There, he saw a silhouette that was familiar to him. No… that’s… it can’t be. He stopped, and Camille did as well.
“What’s wrong,” she asked, sitting on the bed. She looked as confused as he felt.
“It’s… it’s nothing. I just need to get some things done.”
“Cam…. Please don’t lie to me,” she pleaded, but it was too late. He’d already started walking out. Frustrated, she took one of the pillows and tossed it aimlessly. It hit the window by accident, missing the vase on the bureau by inches. Not that she would’ve cared much if it’d been knocked over. She turned onto her side and closed her eyes, wishing she could actually get some rest, but she couldn’t. Not with everything on her mind.
While she waited for sleep to come to her, the moon started to peek out from behind the clouds, and a few rain drops rolled down the window, erasing the ghost of a handprint that was there…
* * * * * *
“Really Andrew,” the man pounded on the door. “I’ve had enough of this. It’s not right for these young ladies to be bringing you your food every day. Now, stop holing yourself up in that room, or there will be—“
“Alright, alright. I heard you the first time,” he grumbled. Man, Father Isaac did not play around. Though he did have a point, the blonde didn’t feel like admitting it any time soon. Still half asleep, he walked over and opened the door just enough to get a good look at the old man.
“That’s enough of this nonsense Andrew. I know that you had a hard time on the last mission, but it’ll do you no good to be locked up in that room all day.”
“Yes, Father. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he took the bowl of cereal from the young woman’s hands and gave her a small smile as a thanks. However, it seemed that her eyes were focused elsewhere. Damn, should’ve put on my shirt first, he realized, and then quickly slammed the door shut before she could see more of the scars on his chest, or more importantly, the ring hanging from the chain around his neck. “Thanks,” he called out loud enough so that they could hear him as he sat down at his desk.
“Andrew Giovanni!” He glared silently at the door for a moment before letting out a sigh. “Boy, you are the cause of these gray hairs.”
Wolfe chuckled after finishing his bite of cereal. “I’ll remember that when I go to my next confession.” After hearing that, the old man hobbled off to go about his own business, and hoped that the young man would heed his warning. Leaning back slightly in his chair, he felt the warm rays of the sun spreading across his skin. It’d rained the night before, but if it weren’t for the puddles on the ground, he wouldn’t have believed it. The skies were clear, the breezing rolling gently by. The day was so beautiful, yet… inside, he felt about as stormy as it had been yesterday. His head was pounding as well, which made him wonder if it had really been thundering last night or it had just been his headache. He’d had to have had a lot of drinks last night to be as drunk as he’d been. And it’s still not enough to get her out of my mind.
For him, it was impossible to stop replaying the events in his mind. The way she’d looked at that… that monster, how she’d practically tossed him aside just to protect that murderer. And then there were the memories of his childhood, how she’d cared for him so tenderly when he’d come to Silverstone. Even when she knew what he was she hadn’t spurned him, had even promised to keep his secret, which she did. Her kindness had moved him. What happened to you? What did he do to you…? He wouldn't even allow himself to mention Camille's name in the same sentence as that vampire’s, or even at all. There was just no way that that was the same girl he'd fallen in love with all those years ago. It just couldn't be.
Wolfe had managed to get the poison out his system, though he did feel sick for about a week. Drinking the holy water made him feel just as sick as the thought of them being together. It made him weak and a bit delirious. And even though he was so hurt he couldn’t help but wish that she’d been there to help him through it again…
He considered heading out again and getting wasted until he passed out, but Father Isaac had been right about one thing: it wasn’t going to do any good. The blonde combed his hair through with his fingers and then went over to wash his face in the basin. “Hmm…” his reflection stared back at him with a certain disproval until he tousled his hair a bit so that it looked less formal and more messy. “That’s more like it,” he attempted a smile, but it didn’t even remotely reach his eyes. What’s the point?
Still, he forced himself through sheer will to change and head into the hallways. He wasn’t even sure where he was going, only that he needed to move around.
The corridors in Silver Moon’s Headquarters were usually quiet. The place could house anywhere from 100-150 men and women at a time, though they never stayed for quite too long. It was more of a temporary housing. People came here to receive their missions, gather supplies, take refuge, rest, or report their findings. So even when they were housed here, they were coming and going. Few had time to make conversation, even fewer took the time to do so. Before everything had fallen apart for him, he’d be one of the few that had always been there to keep the place full of life. Now, he was just like all the rest.
When he caught a flicker of movement ahead of him he looked up to see a woman that could no doubt make any other feel inferior in comparison. She had striking violet eyes, sheltered beneath thick eyelashes, full lips, and curves in all the right places. Part of him—that playful side of him—wanted to converse and do a little shameless flirting, but the other part of him wanted nothing to do with women right now. He tried to go on his way, but when she started speaking he paused.
“Hey Wolfe, haven’t seen you in a while.”
What was her name again? It took him a moment, but he remembered quickly enough. "Estella, right?" He sounded a little tired despite the fact he'd been sleeping a lot lately. It was more of an emotional fatigue. "Yeah, been recovering from a mission," he replied vaguely. That was the story that had been passed around, and it was always best to stick as close to the truth as possible when you were telling a lie in his experience.
Still, she wasn’t falling for it. She looked to him with curiosity. “I see.” Estella had a certain talent in reading people; she made it her job practically to know about things. It was probably why she was usually in charge of Intel gathering during missions. There were plenty of rumors about Wolfe, though she wasn’t quite sure which to believe. “If you’re feeling up for it, would you mind coming to the hall for dinner? You sound like you could use some food and I could use some company,” she offered. Her tone was friendly enough, gentle. If he wanted to, he could turn her down without being rude. Estella had been thinking about taking a shower, but she was fairly certain that she didn’t smell bad so it could wait.
Like a defensive animal, he found himself irritated by the way her eyes continued to watch him. Or maybe it was because he could tell that she could read him so well. It felt to him as if she were trying to read his thoughts, an idea that he didn’t like—no matter how impossible it was. ‘For humans anyways,’ he corrected. He was fairly certain that some vampires and creatures of the sort could read minds. Wolfe had never had never been able to do it himself, though he’d read lore that said that those in a pack could share thoughts; however, it wasn’t like he was going to try that out any time soon.
“What makes you say that,” he asked warily while starting to walk alongside her toward the hall. They came to the foyer with murals of old prophecies and heroes of lore. To their left he knew they could get to the small indoor garden where one could sit down and study. He used to frequent there often for his own furthering of knowledge, though now he mostly went there to sulk.
“You just sound tired, fatigued,” she explained nonchalantly. They walked into the hall and she walked past him as he held the door open for her. “Food is good for all ailments of fatigue,” she went on, “Whether they be of the body or mind. So just a little common sense is all. No special medical knowledge or anything,” she smiled genuinely as she spoke.
He was still apprehensive about the whole thing, but he relaxed a bit. Her words had eased him, and she could tell that he didn’t like to be read. Most people didn’t, especially those who had something they didn’t want to talk about. ‘What happened to you?’ she wondered. She’d known him from before he took his last mission and she couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to the once confident, outgoing Wolfe that was so well known throughout the complex. The chain around his neck peeked out from beneath his shirt, gleaming whenever it could steal a bit of sunlight. Estella didn’t want to pry, so she didn’t ask about it. The wound was still fresh.
They spoke about missions. Wolfe had received his-- what seemed like--forever ago, but Estella was still awaiting her full orders. She did mention that the name of the town, Jamestown, sounded familiar. It wouldn’t have surprised him if she had been sent near there. The place had been teeming with vampires as of late. Their attacks were going hand in hand with disappearances in the town. Not much else was known, since the damned things were watching the roads carefully. At least that’s what he gathered from the survivor of a traveling band that had been trying to reach Silver Moon for a while now.
Estella had gathered that Wolfe had special ties to the vampires in the area. The whole thing seemed a little… personal. His body language, at least, told her that. They ate in silence for a short while. After a minute he actually considered the possibility that the Chief might want to send someone on this mission with him. His eyes flickered back to Estella.
Stubbornly, he had another flash of anger in his eyes, not that Estella knew. It was his natural defense for whenever he was nervous or uneasy about a particular topic. He didn’t want anyone to go with him. He was fine. His internal monologue was broken when she asked him if he was sure he was ready for the mission. Wolfe replied back confidently, “Of course I am,” then added, “Are you?”
Despite the undercurrent of hostility she pushed on and smiled. “Truth be told, I’d always be happy with another day’s rest. But a job is a job, so I’m ready whenever they send me out.” He thought she hadn’t caught the anger beneath the blanket of dark lashes, but she had. Even so, she wasn’t so sure that he was really angry at her. There’d been no hint of that in his tone. He was lonely, she took in his posture. If she couldn’t’ get him to talk about it, then she at least wanted to offer a distraction. Estella wasn’t shy about being social, but somehow she still felt a little funny asking what she did. “So, is there anything you plan on doing tonight?”
* * * * * *
It hadn’t taken her long to convince him to accompany her to the tavern in town. There was probably a very good chance he would’ve ended up there sooner or later on his own anyways. He told himself it was because he wanted to keep her safe. Right. The longer he spent time with her, the more he started to think that maybe this was exactly what he needed. Maybe Father Isaac had been right. Wolfe stared at his glass. ‘I guess this means I had one too many. . . ‘ The wine helped him relax too, and for a moment he was starting to brush away the gray cloud looming over him. His usual self shone through and slowly but surely he was getting a little friendly with Estella. She was beautiful, he knew that. Only now he was paying more attention to it. “Don’t worry,” he assured, replying to her comment about wanting to avoid the drunks, “They won’t be trying anything tonight. I can’t make any promises about myself though.” The hunter smirked and winked.
‘Ah, there we go.’ His small smile was a good sign, even if it didn’t completely fix everything. And it was a good starting point to the road of recovery. Though, she was taken a bit by surprise with his flirt. Well, at least he was feeling better. “Happy to know I have a hero with double standards,” she teased him a bit. She’d had fun, so she was a little let down when he brought up the fact that they should be getting back. If they were better friends, if they were friends—period—she’d take his arm, but she didn’t want to send mixed signals. Reluctantly, she said goodnight when she looked up to see they had made their way in front of her bedroom. He gave his own goodbye; Wolfe kissed her hand gently and parted after wishing her sweet dreams.
Standing alone in the dimly lit room, she couldn’t help but notice the warmth that had settled on her cheeks. A small smile crossed her face as she slipped into bed. Tomorrow… tomorrow she would see him again.
* * * * * *
Sweat beaded on his forehead, his hair sticking to his forehead in a gathered mess. His chest rose and fell heavily and the calm blue of his eyes was once again replaced with a dark red. The room itself was in shambles with papers strewn across the floor along with the bottle of ink. “Damn it,” he breathed. Camille walked in just in time to hear the string of curses that followed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Ah,” he laughed, putting his hand up to push his hair back from his forehead. “Well it’d be much simpler to make a list of what’s right, isn’t it?”
He turned to the window and leaned on the glass with his eyes shut tight. “Someone’s taking humans. Too many of them. It’s alerted the Hunters.”
“One of ours?” she asked after a moment of thought. Worry creased her forehead.
“No,” he shook his head. Now leaning against the wall so that he could look at his mate, he went on. “One of our fledglings spotted a group of vampires attacking a group of villagers. They were trying to get out of town, but… most of them didn’t make it. One of them was getting out, and he was carrying a scroll. I have no doubt that he’s going straight for help.” Not that he could blame the man.
“But… if it’s not ours…” she left the question hanging in the air. There wasn’t another Coven in the area for miles, and they had a pact. Neither had broken into the other’s hunting grounds for centuries.
Cameron crossed his arms, his head tilted down to look at the floor absently. “I don’t know Camille, I don’t know. But they’re going to think it’s us.”
A thought occurred to her. It was a stretch, but maybe… “I could try to find Wolfe, tell him what’s going on and get him to understand—“
“No.”
“Cam,” she pleaded.
“Look, no offense, but that is the stupidest idea I have heard. All. Day.”
Her eyes flashed at him, “Just because you say no offense, doesn’t mean it doesn’t offend me.”
Ignoring her last statement he went on. “He’s not going to listen. He’s not going to understand. Camille,” his hands gripped her shoulders gently, “He might’ve been your friend, but that was then, and this is now.” Of course she knew that was true. It was all true. Still, she couldn’t help but hold onto the silver of hope that Wolfe might still forgive her someday. “Just please,” she’d been looking away from him until that moment, “Don’t go after him…”
Silence built between them before she finally acceded under his pleading glance, “Okay…” They shared a sigh before breaking away from one another. Cameron asked her to let him take care of it. Did she really have another option? She headed toward the door, but let her hand hover above the handle. “Cam,” she asked.
“I’ll be to bed in a minute,” he replied casually. When she didn’t leave he looked up slowly. “What?”
He’d acted so strange earlier. She erased her worry and gave him a gentle smile. “Nothing. I just… you know I love you right?”
The look of utter confusion on his face seemed to be proof of the secret he was keeping. “Yeah, of course. Camille, I’m fine,” he said defensively and quickly turned back to his desk. He shuffled papers around in an effort to show he was busy. She got the message and made her exit.
Betrayal and anger were her only companions. After everything that she’d done for him, he was still keeping something from her. It wouldn’t be too hard to just look into his thoughts, but she wasn’t that kind of a person. She knew from personal experience how invasive that was. If anything, it would make him more upset, which would be completely counter-productive. Still, she felt hurt by the fact that he was holding something back from her. Knowing full well that she wasn’t going to be able to hide her feelings from him, she headed to her old bedroom to sleep alone.
* * * * * *
Pitiful gasps and moans of pain gushed out of their throats, struggling to be heard through the sea of screams, along with a stream of blood that pooled together with that of his brothers’. “Disgusting,” she wiped blood off her hands delicately on her black dress. “Now, I’ll give you one last chance,” she turned back to the prideful man kneeling in the center of the chaos. “Where. Is. He?”
“I don’t know,” his jaw tightened and he kept his eyes fixed on something in the distance. He wasn’t about to tell her anything, especially not now that she’d slain his coven. Besides, there were things worse than death. “Kill me. You’ll get nothing out of me.”
“Pity,” she grabbed his chin in her hand and sighed, looking genuinely upset. “You were starting to grow on me.” Before he could take another breath she snapped his neck until his head was nearly facing completely backwards. He slumped to the floor once she pulled away and there was nothing to hold him up. “Come along darlings,” she called gently to the dozens of ruby-red eyes that floated in the darkness. “Mother wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.”
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