"I always thought Swiftclaw welcomed strangers, Elder? Has something changed?" one of the men said, diminutive, bald and bookish, wearing a wry smile.
"The last few days have wreaked havoc on my people. Many are dead. We are a town in mourning. Speak your piece and let me know your business, but do not test my patience." The Elder growled, his body threatening to change into its beast form.
"As you wish," the man continued. "We the Cabal heard about what happened here yesterday. It has been over hundreds of years since any of the shifter clans have warred with each other. We are here to try and keep the peace, as is the function of the Tournament, and the Cabal itself."
"It is not we who search out destruction and violence. The rhino shifters attacked unprovoked."
"And the rhino leader, Havoc, states that your clan tried to poison their upcoming challenger, who is scheduled to fight Bran. They were only responding because the truce had been broken. So, you can see, this is quite a pickle."
The Elder stepped forward. "Yes, it is a problem, but not ours. We did not start this bloodshed."
"But are you wise enough to end it, Elder, before it is too late?" the man said.
"I will do anything in my power to make sure that no other Swiftclaw loses their life in this meaningless war. There has been too much death here. What is it that you suggest?"
"A neutral venue. One where you and Havoc can sign a peace agreement, and so we can put all of this aside and focus on the Tournament. How does that sound?"
The Elder was reluctant. He knew that the Cabal were trying to get him out into the open so that they could get their hands on his blackblood, but he had little choice but to accept in order to save lives. "I will attend."
The man smiled widely. "Good! We can solve this quickly, then. Please be advised that, in order to maintain the peace, you may only bring one witness with you… Anything else might heighten tensions… And if anything should start a war again, it will be the Cabal which finishes it. Good day to you, Elder."
The Elder watched the three men disappear back into the forest and sighed with discontent. Looking up to the skies he wondered about what the future would bring, and if he truly could protect his people from this dark rising storm.
* * *
It had been four days since the rockslide, and still it hadn't been cleared. Apparently several other slides had occurred on more important roads, so they had to be attended to first by the road crews in the area. It had meant then that Sharon and Tom had had to spend the time at Jackson's house in the woods.
The place was spectacular. It was built from wood and stone quarried from the mountainside. Jackson had built it himself with no help. Two stories high, it peered over a quaint, almost English garden with immaculate lawn and colorful flowerbeds. Beyond that lay the forest and the mountains. There was was no road to or from Jackson's house. He had everything he needed there in that place.
"How long have you been here?" Sharon asked him one night, as they sat next to his roaring fireplace.
"11 years…" Jackson replied, sipping at his whiskey.
"And you never leave?"
"Oh, I go for provisions, mostly necessities." He tapped his glass filled with Scotch. "Can't go through life without some Lagavulin 21 to keep you company."
They both laughed, but over the previous few days, Sharon had sensed a deep loneliness in Jackson. He'd spent much time with Tom, fishing with him by the river, running around the huge lawn playing games. Tom had taken to him instantly, and who wouldn't? Sharon had taken to him as well, a little too much.
The reason she recognised the loneliness within him was because she had that same hole in herself. It had been there ever since her husband had died. She got through the days for Tom, but at night, when she was alone, she often cried. She missed her husband, but she'd been able to get through that part of the grief for the most part. What lingered was a loneliness, a desire to be held, to be loved.
Jackson was the first man she'd met since her husband's death that lit that flame inside. Made her wonder about what it would be like to be kissed by him, to feel his breath on her neck, to feel him inside of her.
She stared at him in the firelight, the light flickering across his face. He seemed so kind, so thoughtful, so… Everything she'd ever wanted in a man.
"Why are you out here, Jackson, what are you running away from?" The words just came out of her mouth, a thought uncorked like a genie in a bottle.
"What do you mean?" Jackson said, his eyes glinting in the light.
"It just feels like you came here to hide from something… I don't know…"
He looked at Sharon deeply, and then moved closer to her on the sofa, touching her hand. The fire crackled in the night.
"Sharon, have you ever wanted to be someone else?" Jackson asked.
"Oh all the time. I wish I was smarter, had more money, led a more exciting life, but as long as I have Tom then deep down I'm happy. I don't need anything else… Well, I'd be happy being slimmer…"
Jackson laughed. "You look great, Sharon. I wouldn't change one hair on your head."
Sharon looked down at her drink embarrassed, her jet black hair dangling across her face seductively, then she returned to Jackson's gaze. He had such soulful blue eyes. "Do you want to be someone else?"
Jackson looked thoughtful for a moment before answering. "For the longest time I did, now... I'm not so sure."
"You're lovely, Jackson, why would you want to be someone else?"
Jackson held Sharon's hand again. "Can I show you something, and you promise you won't be scared?"
"Of course…" Sharon was unsure what he was referring to, but she trusted Jackson implicitly. She felt like she'd known him her entire life.
Jackson opened his eyes wide, and then, something began to happen. His eyes changed from a deep blue, to a bright shimmering gold.
"I knew it!" Sharon said loudly, jumping up excited. "I knew you were a shifter!"
"You're not scared?" Jackson asked, surprised.
Sharon sat back down and then stared into Jackson's golden gaze, holding his hand. "Jackson, I know we haven't known each other long, but the last few days have meant a lot to me and Tom. I feel close to you in a way I haven't been with another person in a very long time. I don't care that you're a shifter, I don't care what color your eyes are. When I look at you, all I see is Jackson."
Jackson let out a sigh of relief. "I'm so glad. Some people are afraid of us. I guess even I'm scared of my shifter side sometimes. I've been running from it my entire life, but recently…"
"You miss home?"
"Exactly! How can you tell?" Jackson asked.
"I've seen that face before, every day I look in the mirror. You miss something so much that it hurts… Why did you leave?"
"I didn't want to be a shifter, like my father. I wanted to be as far removed from him as possible," Jackson's face grew sad.
"Why? Was he mean?" asked Sharon.
"No… Up until I was 18 I thought my father was the greatest man alive. Then one day he made a decision. There was a forest fire near our town. It was pretty bad. My father knew there were some pureblood… That's what we call humans who can't shift… There were some pureblood campers there, and so he and a few others, including my mom, went to rescue them. The fire got out of control, flames hundreds of feet high. Somehow dad got separated from my mom in the blaze. The story I was told by those who were there that day was that he had a decision to make, to save my mom, or save the pureblood campers. They had a child with them… And because of the decision he made to save complete strangers, my mom died in the fire."
"I'm so sorry, Jackson…" Sharon said.
Jackson wiped a tear from his eye. "I never understood the decision he made, until I saw you and Tom on the road, caught in the landslide. I knew I had to save the child, and I guess, that was what was most important to my father that day as well. I'm beginning to think it's what my mom would have wanted too, but I wouldn't listen to my father. I was so angry at him that I left, turning my back on my shifter friends and family for good."
"Have you spoken with him?"
"No… But I've been thinking about it… I don't know, maybe it's time to make amends."
"You should, you don't want to regret it after he's gone…"
"Yeah. I think you're right… Anyway, let's talk of better things," said Jackson, topping up Sharon's glass with wine.
"One thing that does puzzle me is how you're able to change your eye colour. I thought every shifter had glowing eyes?"
"Yes, most do… It's a long story, perhaps for another time. Tell me, Sharon, is Tom's father around?" said Jackson.
It was now Sharon's turn to grow sad. "No… His dad died when Tom was two…"
"I'm sorry…"
"His name was Harry. A great man, it was his idea to live out here in the countryside, he thought it would be a great adventurous place for Tom to grow up. When the cancer killed him, I guess I wanted to carry on his dream with Tom."
"You've done a great job raising Tom, especially in those circumstances."
"Maybe… But I think I might move us out nearer to civilisation after what happened the other day," Sharon took a big gulp of wine, some of it escaping down her chin and then onto her clothes. "Oh jeez, look at me, red wine everywhere."
Jackson laughed. He reached out and touched Sharon's face with his hand, catching a droplet of red wine on her cheek. They stared at each other for what seemed like an age, and then, like a lightning storm out of nowhere, a spark lit up both their hearts.
They kissed. Who kissed who first would be debated later, something they would joke about in the days to come, but it didn't matter. What mattered was the connection; two lost souls who had been out wandering the wilderness on their own, finding each other, making each other hole again.
Jackson lay Sharon down gently on the sofa. The fire crackled, embers floating up the chimney lighting the darkness therein. Slowly, Sharon moved her hand down Jackson's body, and began to unbuckle his belt as they kissed, their tongues gently caressing each other. Jackson slipped Sharon's shirt from her, revealing a curvaceous, alluring body. He gently kissed her stomach, caressing it with his lips, her soft warm skin quivering in excitement.
They then removed their remaining clothes. Jackson took hold of Sharon's hand and guided her down to the tick warm rug by the fireside. Sharon wrapped her legs around Jackson, as they sat up on the rug, their hearts beating as one. Gently, Jackson entered her. Sharon let out a groan of excitement. Looking into his eyes, Sharon cupped Jackson's face in her hands, her hair dangling down between them. Jackson brushed the hair back over her ears, and then they kissed again.
They moved together, two lonely people now complete. As they reached a sensual climax, they both collapsed on the rug by the fire utterly satisfied, yet still entangled together.
"I hope we didn't wake Tom," Jackson said, still catching his breath.
"No, he'll still be sound asleep in the other room," said Sharon, nestling her head into Jackson's chest.
They lay there for an hour, listening to crackling fire, watching its embers dance. They were both content, knowing that they had shared something special that night, but in the back of Jackson's mind he felt something gnawing at him. As if something terrible was about to happen to those he loved.