Things weren't looking too good for Rodina. Ethan had sequestered her to her cabin just off the main lake in Ethan's, "woods," as he so eloquently labeled it. She was guarded all hours of the day in shifts. Males of the clan were the only ones allowed to be near her, as she was so fierce, no other female was willing to guard her.
I was healing slowly. It was a painful process. One that I was accepting because I had no choice. Ethan carried me around like a broken piece of China and I had had about enough of not only his overwhelming scent, but his close proximity. He was fawning over me. I was getting annoyed.
Well, not
too
annoyed. He smelled and felt amazing. Like a magnet, I couldn't help but be drawn to him. He didn't need to know that either. It seemed that he didn't need to know a lot of things. Including the fact that I had been eavesdropping whenever the opportunity presented itself. So far, I learned that Richen and several other males of the clan were in desperate need of their own mates, which were difficult to come by. It was purely instinctual. They couldn't choose. Their wolf did.
It didn't make understanding Ethan's life any easier. He offered-on numerous occasions- to shift for me. To be the beast of the night. The stalker and the protector.
I declined each time.
For some reason, I was having difficulty seeing the man turn into the monster. I was
not
ready for that. I was just starting to come into terms with my being here. I had nowhere else to go. My room at the inn was no longer mine. I had assumed that because I never came back, I lost the fee I paid for the month and it was most likely rented out to someone else.
Which meant that I either stay here or stay in the street. This was better than living in the streets. But if it got bad here, I'd have no other options. Unless...
I thought of Roy. He was a good buddy. Though, no one could really be trusted, could they? I didn't know him long enough or well enough.
"What are you thinking about, Luna?"
I blinked rapidly, focusing my attention on Jared, who sat beside me on a log. The night was bitter and brisk. The air was sharp, and the animals were quiet. I watched the fire cackle and spit in the pit as clan members arrived slowly but surely.
This was a thing for them. Almost like a ritual. They would meet on what they called, the "fairgrounds." It was the center of the clan. The center of their forest, homes and being. According to wolf lore, this specific forest aligned with the north star. Astronomy was sacred here. The night was revered, and the moon was a symbol of rebirth. Where the man and the wolf were separate but joined. Both sides of the moon. A rebirth of man to wolf and wolf to man.
Every Saturday-if the weather and circumstances permitted-the clan would meet here. They congregated to tell the stories of their ancestors. So far, I learned the origin of the wolves. And what a tale it was. Ethan retold it, just so I could hear it. The others-despite knowing the story of their derivation-listened on in intense silence, their eyes focused on their Alpha as he spoke the Tale of the Blutbaden:
There were once three brothers. Males of great worth and revere. They were born in the time of kings and queens, princes of the fair lands. They were known for their etiquette, charm, good looks, personalities and of course, connections to other seven lands. However, what most didn't know of their venerate princes, was their ability to lure females into bed with them. They wooed and charmed. They whispered promises of marriage and love. As bachelors, they were seeking. And what a seeking it was. In the dead of night, when the castle was filled with silence and cast in shadows, the princes would sneak off into the night in search of fair maidens to bed.
Every night, they took a different lass, seducing her with riches, empty promises of commitment and a life of blazoned passion. In the morning, when the golden rays of the sun rose above the peak of the snow-capped mountains, they would banish said maidens and discard them. Like rubbish, they would devoid their person of such affiliations and send them away. The town viewed these women as unclean, no longer the fair lasses of chastity.
Angered by the lies of the princes, the maidens met by the famous waterfall of lore. There, their anger flourished, a palpable presence born from sadness, grief and hate. It shadowed and blanketed the lost damsels, shrouding them in the darkness of the shade. It fueled and fired, allowing the maidens to transform into the witches of the woodlands.
Revenge coursed through their veins. Under the cover of nightfall, the witches snuck into the castle in search of the fair princes. When they were found, a curse was cast upon each one, to bear the physical representation of the monster within. They howled in pain and agony, their bones breaking and reforming. Hair grew and fair skin was no more. Gone were the princes of reverie, and in there place stood the beasts of the night-the Blutbaden. They went on a rampage, destroying the castle within and the town. Blood flowed and rivers ran red, covering the land in death and decay.
When the sun rose again, the princes transformed into what they once were, a shell of their former life. They cried in woe. For everything they loved was gone. With nothing left but sorrow, the princes lived the remainder of their days as creatures of the darkness. As for the witches, they moved into the woodlands. Never to be seen or heard from again.
I had listened intently, hanging on every word. Was any of this true? Was this clan the descendants of the cursed princes? Did that mean they were cursed? Was there a possibility that their offspring could be cursed as well?
By the time another tale was told, I was more confused than ever. This night was no different. Ethan came in later than the rest. Edwin had carried me here while Ethan, "tended to some matters." What those matters consisted of was beyond me.
"That whole curse," I replied to Jared. "Is it really true?"
His eyes glowed blood red, the gleam igniting in the light of the fire. "Every word, Luna."
I huddled into Ethan's coat, my teeth chattering from the cold. "How did you come about it?"
He shrugged like none of this phased him. "We're descendants. Though I'm pretty sure you've already gathered that."
I looked him over with his tee shirt and ripped jeans. He wasn't even shivering. He looked warm; his skin aglow in the firelight. "I know this sounds stupid," I muttered, "but your skin isn't fair. If you're all descendants of the princes, why do you look different?"
He chuckled lowly and grabbed a branch from the ground. He drew lines in the snow. "This line here represents the pure lineage of the fair princes." He drew another, branching outward. "This one here represents our ancestors straying from pure lineage and bonding with another. In our case," he said, gesturing to the entirety of the clan, "with a Native American tribe."
I nodded my head. Interesting. "What tribe?" I asked, curiously.
"The Apache's," said Ethan, joining the conversation.
I stared. He showered, his hair wet and knotted on the top of his head. I got his scent from here; soap and forest. He was wearing a black tee with jeans. He chuckled lowly when he saw me staring.
"Oh," I said, looking away abruptly. I tried to make it look like I wasn't nearly drooling. "I've heard of them."
"Beat it," Ethan said to Jared. Jared scoffed, flipped him the bird and punched him on the shoulder with a sharp smile. Ethan took his spot beside me. "Have you?" he asked. This time, he stared and made no move to hide it. "What do you know about them?"
I thought about that. "Not much."
