The Cabin

Lunus watched Evan lying on the forest floor and tried to do what she could to help him, but he had fallen unconscious and didn’t seem to be coming out of it. So, she lifted him up, slung his body over her arm, and did her best to carry him. His feet dragged along the ground, parting the dirt as she pulled him along. It took all of her strength to move him, but she knew that they had to make it to a better place if he was to heal and she was to survive. 

Malkouth was an inhospitable forest. Apart from the wolves, it was cold, dark, and home to many threatening beasts. Apart from this, the woods seemed to be covered in a low hanging perpetual fog which made visibility scarce, and the forest itself was known to shift at times, resulting in the death of many travelers who quickly became disoriented and lost their way.

Lunus knew that she couldn’t let Evan die, and she also knew that there were two scenarios worse for them than anything. 

The first was that the wolves would find them and kill her, or worse, kill them both, since none of them would recognize Evan as their fearfully respected and mighty Alpha. 

The second was that the Hunters would find them, which would either result in the death of Evan at the hands of another Hunter and a strict discipline for her, or... death for the both of them. She couldn’t imagine that abetting the great black menace and terror of the town would be something that could possibly go over well. Especially since she was dragging him alone through the woods as a man, and she was pretty sure that she had broken every rule of Hunting imaginable. Yes, she was sure that it wouldn’t have gone over well for either of them.

So, she would dismiss the horse and take him to the Hunter’s cabin. Once there, she would dress his wounds and give him time to heal in a place where she was sure they would not be found. 

“Don’t worry, Evan,” she muttered as she struggled to carry him. “I’ll help you out of this, and we’ll get you home safe. I’ve been thinking... maybe you are a werewolf, but... you’re right - you’re human, too, and I’m sorry... I didn’t believe that earlier. Evan, I’ll help you. I promise. No one else will harm you. Not tonight.”

There was nothing but silence as a reply, and her heart sank as she carried him. His body hung limply over her arm, and she pulled him around as deadweight, the warm, flowing liquid of his blood pressing against her Hunter's coat and staining it with red and guilt. Her eyes watched him sadly, studying his pale face, and she tried not to think that he might have died already. Instead, she kept her eyes ahead and focused on his faint and shallow breathing. 

"Just don't die, Evan," she told him.

Lunus Reens had gone from hunting a wolf that she couldn’t let live to attending a man who she couldn’t let die. It was a foreign thing for her to think that she had shot a man and not a beast, but that was the unpleasant reality of the feeling which had settled in her gut, twisting her insides with guilt. If she had known how to pray, she would have, but she didn’t. So, she sat scribbling on papers at a desk beside the bed as if it were something important. 

Every time she began to write, she couldn’t. Instead, tears welled in her eyes and fell upon the page, dampening the paper and spattering the ink. It was a cruel thing to think she might have killed a man so coldly. 

She looked over her shoulder to see the sight of Evan on the bed. He tossed as though tormented, his breathing labored, and there was a strange pulsating of the wolf trying to come back and haunt him. The image of the wolf overshadowed him, becoming almost tangible before fading away as quickly as it came. If there was a curse, there couldn’t be much more convincing to her than that was. He seemed to struggle against it, thrashing about in his feverish sleep, and it pained her heart to watch him. 

Lunus let her eyes stray to the small window which overlooked the bed and wondered if the moonlight might affect him. She stood from the chair where she sat and walked over towards the window, pulling the curtains shut to block out the moon and the night. She wasn’t sure that it helped, but she hoped that it might have... at least a little bit.

She imagined it must have been hard for a man like Evan Marshal to spend his nights as a bloodthirsty monster. Whatever torment he lived with, Lunus wanted to do whatever she could to help him, even if that meant only alleviating some small part of it. 

She looked back at Evan again, this time by the soft light of the lamp, and set herself down on the edge of the bed next to him. She had removed his torn shirt, which sat in a balled heap in the corner, saturated with his own blood, and dressed his wound with bandages. They were clean white linen when she wrapped his chest and shoulder, but now they were well decorated in red and darkly stained crimson. 

She wasn’t sure she should try to come close or touch him with the wolf phasing in and out, but she wanted so badly to comfort him. She touched his hand, holding it gently. 

Evan opened his eyes like slits, watching her, and a small smile crossed his face as his eyes fell shut again. The wolf began to come again, and she felt the fur begin to protrude from his skin as his palm became like the underside of a thick, leathery paw, but only for an instant. 

Evan forced his eyes shut as though strained, and suddenly a thought came to her. What if Evan was actually expending his energy not to heal himself but to hold back the wolf for her protection? She felt the coarse hair as it bristled against her hand again. She was becoming increasingly certain that he was holding it back. 

Lunus wasn’t sure what to think. It seemed that he had changed back because he was weak and near death, but here it took his strength to hold it back. She frowned. She had always thought that she knew all there was to know about werewolves. Obviously, she hadn’t. 

There was a howling of the wolves outside the cabin that sent a shiver down her spine and left her with an unsettled feeling deep in her stomach. Evan screamed, crying out in pain as the wolves continued their calling, and for a moment, Lunus thought that she could hear Balthazar calling back to them. 

“Evan!” Lunus cried, unable to bear the sound of his screaming and his pain. “Stop it! Evan, please, stop!” she pled, throwing herself down on top of him. She pressed her cheek against his, speaking the words directly into his ear in an effort to nullify the howling of the monstrous hounds. “You’ll be alright,” she promised. “You’ll be alright, Evan. I’ll help you. Do you hear me? I’ll help you.”