Ellie
From all the books I've read, I found that the limitation to possibility does not exist. The stories told of mythical beings, gods, demons, the supernatural and other worldly things are told throughout time. Some to awe, others to woe. The term monster has always been a broad term. There are monsters everywhere, they smile at us every day and today I learned that some of them hide in the confines of human skin.
But Marcus is no monster.
I don't know what he is, but I do know that a monster is the furthest from what he is. He came to me out of nowhere in my time of need, when my life was seconds away from being ripped away. He spilled blood for me. And still he stood in front of me with fear in his eyes for what I may do when I learned this truth. He thought I would run, scream, fear him, maybe even try to attack him. But I did none of these things.
Even though I couldn't speak, my system still shocked, I grabbed his hand and ran with Koga following suit. The three of us got to my truck and hightailed it out of Garrison and set for home. Other than handing him a blanket to cover himself, we didn't speak the entire drive to my cabin. I can feel his anxiety rolling off him in waves but I couldn't bring myself to say anything. I didn't know what to say. I was still trying to wrap my head around what had just happened.
Marcus killed those men – those animals – for me. For Koga. He ripped them apart with no mercy and instead of being frightened, I enjoyed it. I didn't care if they killed me, as long as they didn't touch Koga. But they did, and for that I relished in the blood spilling from their dismantled bodies. I smiled at the sound of their cries. The rage I felt, the fight I gave, I've never done or felt anything like it in my life.
I fear that if anyone is the monster here… it's me.
When we arrived, I grabbed Marcus a towel and some soap and pointed him towards the guest shower. First time it'd been used since I got here all those years ago. He nods his thanks and I head towards my own. We both need to have a shower after everything and the conversation we need to have will be better without us both covered in blood and dirt.
The hot water pounds against my sensitive skin and I groan at the sensation. I watch the water wash away the evidence of today and carry the filth down the drain, leaving only my memory. That's the moment I remember the bite mark on my hip – or lack of, should I say. The puncture wounds on my skin are sealed white, like a scar marring my skin. It looks similar to the scars on the spot where my neck meets my shoulder but unlike that scar, I actually know where this one came from.
It all plays repeatedly in my head and I stand there under water cascading over my head and down my shoulders, allowing all the gory, vivid details to sink into my subconscious. I don't know how long I was standing there but it wasn't until I hear Marcus knock on my door that I realize the water ran cold.
Shutting off the water, I hurry to dry myself and change into a pair of leggings and a large shirt to meet Marcus.
It was time for us to talk.
Opening the door, I'm taken aback by the amount of worry in his chocolate orbs. His usual olive skin is pale and his brows furrow as he looks me over. I touch his arm and he shivers, much like he did before in his … other form. I'm still not sure what to call it.
"I'm okay." Those whispered words break Marcus' sliver of control as he grabs my hand and pulls me into him. His strong arms wrap around my body, holding me tightly against him. This man, who can become a godly beast and demolish anything that stood in its way, was shaking in my arms. He looked so beautiful. So tortured. Like what happened today scared him more than it did me. Maybe it did. The thought of what would've happened if he didn't get to me in time. I can feel his nose in the crook of my neck inhaling my scent deeply, as if my scent can bring him back down to earth. I let him as my arms wrap around his torso. I keep whispering in his ear, 'I'm okay' over and over hoping it will help ease him. His trembling slows to a stop but his hold remains tight.
"You're okay," his gruff, husky voice says, more to himself than to me. His arms loosen around me and I pull back to look him in the eyes. His eyes look so haunted. Had the thought of my death really caused him so much distress? My heart aches at the thought of him in pain because of me. His eyes suddenly widen as something registered in his mind.
"Your side – you were bitten." He says frantically.
I shake my head, then pull down the fabric of my leggings just enough to show him the white markings on my skin. I remember he licked me when he was in his other form, maybe his saliva has healing properties. He exhales and his shoulders drop, visibly relaxing. When his eyes returned to mine, I could see the storm had not left them. They are speaking so fast though his mouth is not moving. I'd love to pick apart his brain, learn all of the secrets and knowledge hiding there.
Taking his hand, I pull him towards the kitchen. He silently follows and watches as I grab a bottle of whiskey from the cupboard. I'm not a heavy drinker by any means, seeing what it did to my father, but I could use a drink after today. I pour myself a double and ask Marcus if he would like one with me. He nods and I pour him the same as me. I take a sip and relish in the soothing burn the amber liquid leaves in my throat trailing down to my empty belly. Another sip and I could feel the tension in my shoulders relax a little. Glancing at Marcus, his glass is already empty and he's pouring himself another. I was right, today was hard on him just as it was on me.
"I know you have questions. A lot of them probably. So please, ask." Marcus says to me as he puts the bottle back in the cupboard.
"I don't know where to start," I mumble over my glass before I take a big gulp.
"Ask me the first thing that pops into your head, Ellie." His velvet voice is more soothing than the whiskey in my hand. Its coaxing words out of my throat before I have a moment to put them together.
"What are you?"
"He pondered over this question delicately. After a moment of silence, he finally answered me.
"I am a werewolf."
'Woah. Okay.'
I wasn't expecting his answer to be so … simple. I don't even know what to expect with something so bizarre.
"And those animals that attacked me … they were human, too. Are they – were there the same as you?"
"They were like me, yes."
"B-but you were bigger … much bigger."
I scoffed at the prideful smirk on his beautiful face. He didn't even try to hide it.
'Not exactly what I meant' I thought to myself as I tried my hardest to not blush. This wasn't the time for that. He sobered up and the serious expression returned to his features.
"You could say I'm different from them. Those mutts were what you could call 'low-ranked' wolves."
"And you are what I could call 'high-ranked'?"
"Something like that." He says with a small smile.
"What are you smiling at?" Though I was impatient, my words didn't come out as sharp as I had intended. Something about Marcus just keeps me at ease even when I feel like I want to explode. My mind and body trust him even when I was wary of him. His very presence keeps me leveled.
"I'm just relieved and kind of surprised at how well you're taking this."
A thought occurs to me.
"Did I know about you? Before I … " I trailed off.
'Before I forgot about you…'
Something passes in his eyes, something he's not sure if he should tell me. It stays there, swimming in circles in a pool of chocolate even when he answers me.
"You did."
I knew. I knew his secret as a child. How had I taken the news back then?
"Why didn't you tell me?" A stupid question but it came out before I could stop it.
"Because you don't remember me, Ellie. You were ready to carve me up when we first saw each other again. I know you're trying and part of you may remember me, but I couldn't spring that on you. I was worried it would be too much for you."
I understand the need to keep secrets, I can't blame him for protecting himself and his kind. I probably wouldn't have taken the news as well as I am now that I've seen it with my own eyes. But something is missing here. I could feel it. All of these secrets. So much right in front of me and I can't see it past the fog in my mind. It's frustrating. I'm tired of secrets. I down half of my whiskey and look him in the eyes.
"No more secrets, Marcus. I know there are some things you think I can't handle, but I'm a grown woman now. I want you to trust me, the way you trusted me as a little girl. Please."
He sighed, as if this conversation couldn't be avoided, he was right about that.
"What do you want to know?"
"Everything."
Marcus grabbed the whiskey from my hand to set it down and motioned for me to sit at the little table in the kitchen. He didn't say anything as he turned around and rummaged through my pantry. He took the old kettle on the stove and filled it with fresh water. Putting the kettle on the burner, he went to grab a mug, small plate, and a spoon. His eyes trailed over the line of small mason jars filled with a variety of herbs, picking one from the line with some sugar and small bags. He was making me tea. I never told him how I liked my tea or even how I prefer tea over anything, even whiskey, to calm my nerves, yet he was preparing my cup as if he'd done it thousands of times. The kettle whistles and I watch silently as he finishes my cup. When he sets the tea in front of me, I gingerly take a sip of the hot concoction and my eyes widen. It was perfect. Smooth, herbal, sweet. I took in more, careful not to burn myself, letting the tea heat my belly, taming the whiskey in my gut. He took the seat next to me and watched as I drank my tea. Something clicked. Marcus said we knew each other as children until our fathers stopped working together, for reasons he won't tell me. But I didn't have my first cup of tea until I was thirteen, when I met Herman. How is it possible for him to know things about me even when I didn't know he existed? Before I could ask him, he begins to speak.
"My kind are not at all like how we're portrayed in movies and fiction. I don't shift under the full moon or go crazy on those nights, or at all. It's not a disease and simply biting somebody won't change them into what I am. A human can be changed, it's just different than what you may think. It's also illegal unless granted permission, but that's a whole 'nother thing. I'm not a danger to anybody. Unless…" He trailed off and I know the words he means to say. I think about the other werewolves he killed today.
'He's not dangerous unless he has to be.'
"Centuries ago, the wolves were direct descendants of the moon goddess. Her children. They were incredibly large and strong. And there were so many that the forests became the home of were-kind. No humans entered the forest and no weres showed themselves in human society. It was all more organized and – free for our kind then. We had government and law, like humans. Just different. The population was broken into territories and packs in those territories fell under the jurisdiction of their respective kingdoms. North, South, East … and West."
"The Western Kingdom." I breathed out. He nods.
The story … it was real?
"The were-kind lived free within their territories for hundreds of years, away from humans. We raised our children without worry, pups could shift under the protection of their pack and they didn't have to live in fear." His voice took a hard edge when describing this to me. It churned my gut, I could tell that what this was leading to was nowhere good, "It was rare for a were to kill a human. There was no need for it. We never bothered the humans and they didn't even dare to come close to the territories. But when the humans found ways to kill us … they didn't stop."
My heart dropped at this. I could see it in Marcus' eyes, the eyes of someone who experienced great loss.
"First it was the guns. The silver in the ammunition – it burned them from the inside out. Then it was the chemicals they concocted. It killed the wolves' senses, making them easy targets. Then finally, the machines that killed everything from the trees to the structures that were called home – to the wolves that were stuck or injured … and couldn't move out of the way. Warriors fought so much. But once they were gone, they went for the women. Even the children."
I gasped at the horrifying images Marcus' words were painting in my mind's eye. A hot tear slipped down my cheeks. Marcus' pain was evident on his face and I reached for his hand, offering my comfort. He took it gratefully. I always thought of wolves as the most beautiful, majestic beings to grace the earth. Hunters have always disgusted me, killing them for sport. But to commit a genocide, massacre these creatures that wear a face like me, birth their children like me, and have a way of life like me. I can't think of a word better to describe these people. They are the real monsters.
"Most that survived, they ran as far as they could go. Rebuilding the kingdoms in sister areas. But some were left behind."
"Were you?"
"My mother and father left here to be with our pack. I chose to stay here."
He chose to stay here. Why would he choose to be here, alone, rather than with his pack. His family.
"Why?"
"It hurt me to say goodbye to my family, but the thought of leaving here hurt even more. I just couldn't leave this place. It means … too much to me."
I didn't understand why this place would hold more appeal than to be with his family but that was not my business, no matter how much I wanted to know. On the other hand, if he had left here to be with his pack, we wouldn't have met. And suddenly, I'm grateful that he chose to stay. I nodded for him to continue.
"The Grand Council moved away from human civilization as well. But they're still active."
"What's the Grand Council?"
"They're like our government. The elders of the packs, very old and very wise but nonetheless, incredibly powerful. Most of them have been alive for hundreds of years."
My eyes widened, "What? How?" I say quickly as a thought grabs me, "Are your kind immortal?"
"Not the way you're thinking. Some of my kind age differently, very slowly. Reaching adulthood, some wolves can live for centuries. But nonetheless, we can still die."
"Are you … " I don't even know how to word the question. He hesitates.
"I'm the same age as you, Ellie."
I can't explain it but there's something hidden behind his words. Something that he's not telling me.
"Anyway, the elders in the Council monitor the packs, pass the laws and grant permissions and make sure all alphas follow the law. For example, if a high ranked wolf were to do something illegal, only the Council can grant their punishment."
"What kind of laws do weres have?"
"The general laws can be simple. Bring forward any internal or personal issues and concerns to your Alpha. Do not turn a human unless granted permission by the Council. All challenges must be presented to the alpha with a good reason but if there's a challenge to the alpha, it must go to the Council. There are other laws but it mostly pertains to the alphas and ranked wolves."
"What's the punishment for breaking the law?"
"It depends on the offense. Mostly alphas deem out punishments fit to the crime. However, if the crime is great enough, the offender will either be exiled from the pack and will be forced to live the rest of his or her life as a rogue."
"Or?"
"Or they could be executed."
I nod my head taking in all the information he's giving me.
"You said before that I could consider you a high ranked wolf. So specifically, what is your rank?"
I could see he's considering lying to me so I fix him with a hard glare, wordlessly tell him not to try. He sighs.
"I'm an alpha."
Just when I thought my eyes couldn't get any wider. An alpha. Of course. It makes sense. His wolf was enormous, and his power was devastating. But an alpha is important to his pack.
"But – how are you here? Shouldn't you be with your pack?"
"I am an alpha by blood but I am not my pack's alpha. At least not yet. My father is. He will continue to run the pack until I am ready to take over. Or until we choose somebody else."
"What's keeping you from taking over?" The thought of him being gone sent a pang through my chest.
"My mate."
The air shifted between us as he said those two words. There was an electrical current, singeing my skin causing it to pebble.
"What's a mate?" I sound breathless. The word feels heavy on my tongue. Something so potent and raw, I couldn't grasp the fluttering feeling this word gives me. Marcus' eyes darken and I suddenly feel hot under his gaze.
"A mate is the one thing a wolf prays to find. If you're lucky enough to find them, there's no life without them." His voice was low, falling over me like a springtime shower. "A mate is your other half, your everything. When your soul finds them, you realize that you have never known peace … happiness … love." I don't notice myself leaning closer to him nor his other hand landing on my thigh, I can feel his words deep in my soul resonating with a truth I've never heard before. It feels as sweet as the tingles his hands are releasing into my skin. "Everything in your body calls to your mate," his voice goes impossibly low with a seductive tone. The sound nearly making my eyes roll. Heat floods between my thighs, and I feel things I have never felt before in my life. Not before him. "And when you claim each other, you feel pure, wonderful, delicious euphoria."
I feel like I'm on fire.
"Claim?" The word sounds delicious. A soft rumble, like a growl, comes from his chest as his eyes get impossibly darker. He leans in, his hand leaving my thigh to rest on my cheek. His woodsy scent caressing my senses, making my mouth water.
"When he pushes deep inside you, bringing you to your peak. When you finally cum, screaming his name, his canines would bite you … " His fingertips follow a trail over my cheek, down my neck, "right … " settling on the spot where my neck meets my shoulder, the same spot my mystery scars laid against, "here." Once he touches my scars, I moan.
A feeling unlike I've ever known vibrates me from the inside. I close my eyes savoring the sensation. My desire pooling between my thighs. I can hear him gasp at the feeling of my scars, but I'm too wound up to be self-conscious right now. I want him. I want him more than I've ever wanted anything in my life. I open my eyes to see him staring at me with so much lust and love it makes my head spin.
"Ellie."
He whispers my name and I break. I couldn't control myself. He smelled so good, felt better than anything I've ever felt. I needed to know how he tasted. Before I could stop myself, I launched into his lap, his covered arousal pressing against my own, and I pressed my lips against his.
My kiss was hungry and pleading, and he didn't hesitate to return it with his own. The way his lips moved against mine told me that he had been waiting a long time for this. Perhaps I have too.