Man in Shade

Clara

I stared wild-eyed into the calm, pretty face of Hazel. She wore a crimson silk gown that accentuated her shining black hair. Red was after all the color of luck for us werewolves; it is the color of blood after a fresh, clean kill. The other color of luck was the deep dark blue hue that I clothed myself in. It was the inky indigo sky that the moon swims through.

“Hazel, goddess above, I’m so sorry,” I said in embarrassment.  

Hazel smiled sadly at me. There was no blame in her pretty features, and a surge of guilt and sisterly affection rose like a rock in my throat.

She turned me around, and I could feel her cool hands caressing my torn shoulder where Lord Dover had dug in his claws. “Was this the work of Lord Dover?” she asked in a low voice.

“Who else?” I growled.

“Come,” she said. “This won’t do. You can’t be battered and bruised tonight.”

“Hazel—” I said, but she pulled me through the swath of werewolves.

“You don’t need to watch,” Hazel said.

She knew of the love I had for Griffin, and she had advised me to let it go. Hazel was wise; I was too stubborn or stupid to not let the flame die out.

I let her usher me into the hallway outside. Not a single civilian werewolf could be seen. Two guard posted outside the iron doors watched us in interest, and one whistled crudely at us. They both shared a laugh and elbowed each other in the ribs.

Quickly, Hazel drew me out of the hallway and pulled us into a silent dark room with several windows and drawn red curtains.

The giant windows displayed a pristine night with the full moon and stars. A green, rosy tint of the aurora borealis shone above the familiar mountain ranges of Yholden far to the north.

I looked at Hazel and even though my heart was heavy, I couldn’t help but laugh as she drew out a small pack that was tied to a belt on her thigh. It was her small poultice bag for medical emergencies.

Hazel smiled mischievously back at me. “Always be prepared.”

Hazel was the quintessential healer. She used to be an assistant of my mother. She was a genius in the art of herbs.

“I don’t think there’s anyone more prepared for an accident than you are,” I said. “Did you really think we’d all be killing each other at the Mating Ball?”

“Fights have started for stupider things than finding a mate for life,” Hazel said seriously. “And I’m very sorry to say, I always find you in trouble.”

“I never start the fights,” I said defensively.

“Yes, but you can never end them well, either,” Hazel said. She nuzzled my cheek with her own. “You know I’m not blaming you. I’m just worried. Eternally worried.” She squished my cheek, an action she was a little too fond of doing. “I should be thanking you. Now I have the exhausting but rewarding experience of being an overbearing mother before I find a mate. Whoever he is, he’ll be delighted at how good of a mother I’ll be.”

I laughed as well. “You certainly have the stubborn qualities of a hen guarding her brood.”

“A hen?” Hazel clicked her tongue. “I truly hope that you have greater esteem of me than that of a chicken.”

“If you start squawking and flapping your arms one of these days, I wouldn’t even be surprised. I can hear the other pack members now: ‘Beware of showing kindness to the traitor’s daughter Clara; you’ll go as crazy as Hazel.’”

We shared a giggle, but then I looked away from her soft brown eyes.

I wanted to tell her of my plans to escape. But she wouldn’t understand, would she? She had always believed that they would see my potential and mate me with a decent guy in this pack. She always believed in those good things and hopes. There was no prejudice in her eyes, just wounded souls.

But I didn’t believe it.

She drew out small jar, unscrewed the cap, and applied a cooling ointment to my back. I breathed out in relief. It was an ointment I knew well. It was a remedy she had extracted from a plant called Sophia’s tears. She perfected the old healers’ formula that would sting relentlessly when applied.

“It may hurt a little bit.” She smiled to me. Her voice was soft. Her touch was soft.

I wanted to cry. Guilt dug into me; would she feel being betrayed if I escaped?

Hazel was going to be the only thing I might miss about this place, and I didn’t want her to hate me.

Impulsively, I hugged her and pushed my head into her chest. It was so infantile of me to do, but I couldn’t help myself.

“Hazel. Thank you. I’m sorry.”

I could hear Hazel’s surprised intake of breath, but she gently tousled my hair like a mother.

“Sorry? For what? Clara. What are you talking about?” Her voice suddenly became sharp, but I couldn’t answer her.

I wanted to, but I couldn’t.

We take no chance. Elena warned me the danger of being caught.

For a moment, we stayed there in silence, and I relished the moment of peace. I wished that we could stay like this, like normal werewolves wishing each other a life of happiness. But Diantha was a goddess of tricks and illusions. She was not done with me yet.

Clap. Clap. Someone applauded.

A musical, languid voice came from out of the corner of the room.

“A truly touching scene, but it begs the question: shouldn’t you lovely she-wolves be in the presence of your Alpha?”

I could feel the hackles on the back of my neck shiver.

Hazel’s pointed ears perked up, and she bared her teeth in surprise. Mine also raised.

Hidden deep in the curtained alcove of one window was a handsome male werewolf clothed in steel and navy blue garb. One muscled shoulder was bared, and half of his shirt and outer cloak made with silver ermine fur were tied around his waist. Strips of black leather covered his shapely thighs, but his feet were bare.

I could see that he had cast off his black boots with fur trimmings carelessly in the corner. His sleek indigo hair went down to his waist and twisted together with dyed flashes of silver braids. Leaning back into the scarlet cushions of the alcove, he waved his hand cheekily at us.

“Oh, please do go on. Don’t let me stop you. I was hoping you two would declare your undying love to one another and tear your clothes off. You don’t mind if I join in at that point, do you? I am so very bored.”