Eternal Symphony

17. Castle of Ivory

Cursing under her breath, Alice quickly raced after the majestic creature, though she knew her efforts were folly; there was no way she could keep up with the massive wolf leaping across the earth in enormous bounds.

Before the wolf had bolted away, Alice knew it was Miles from the eyes alone; she growled upon reaching this conclusion, panting and sodden. She looked for any paw prints left in the dirt, hoping to catch and confront him. Still choking on the realization of seeing the legends unfold before her eyes, Alice began questioning whether this world was real or if she was trapped in a fairy tale where vampires, werewolves, and witches existed.

Was any of this for real or not?

When she returned to the bridge, Alice had given up her pursuit when no other signs or clues led to the wolf's whereabouts. It wasn't until the sun had vanished entirely from the sky did she hear the sound of rustling leaves from behind; she whipped her head around, and there stood Miles after emerging from the darkness, his face pale and jet-black hair messy.

The two silently stood before Miles broke it: "You were nearly attacked, yet you insisted on chasing me here. You're either that ignorant or stubborn."

"I'm sorry, but—"

He hastily interrupted her as he tapped his foot against the dirt impatiently. "You shouldn't be apologizing to me but to yourself for being so careless."

Alice grew flustered. "I wanted to thank you for helping me, but you ran away before I could."

The park was nearing closing hours, but the two were caught in the stillness as the tense situation brewed. Miles paused to contemplate her words and crossed his arms over his chest. Studying her face as if she were an interesting specimen, he spoke once he found the words he sought. "Allow me to assume that you wanted to prove my story true. Isn't that the real reason behind you seeking me out?"

Her skin prickled when Miles had read her like a book almost as quickly as Elijah. Am I that simple to figure out?

Satisfied by her reaction, Miles said, "Perhaps we should take our leave of this place before our unwelcome intrusion attracts more unwanted visitors." 

He led the way back to the parking lot, smirking that Alice's head now buzzed like angry bees guarding their hive with questions. However, she couldn't force out a single one, her tongue tying in a knot. Instead, the two walked in the quiet evening, but Alice's eyes again darted to his right arm, wondering how severe his scar was. With teeth that large, I imagine he would have lost at least his arm or parts of his shoulder.

She cleared her throat and finally asked, "How old were you when it happened?"

Miles abruptly paused in his tracks and stuffed his hands into his pockets before looking down at his feet. "I was ten when my uncle attacked me," he quietly said, his voice breaking the somber silence. "That was about fifty years ago."

"Fifty?" Alice raised a brow.

Miles looked over his shoulder and smirked. "Unlike vampires, we age much more slowly than humans. Even as we grow older, we still maintain a great deal of our physical and regenerative abilities. I may look twenty-two, but I'm actually sixty-two."

"Incredible," Alice eyed him suspiciously, "What about your sister, then? From my understanding, she's not a werewolf. Or is she?"

"No," he abruptly answered, "I was the one who saved Scarlett from my uncle and paid the price." Miles flexed his right arm and curled his fingers, grimacing from the painful memories of the attack. "She, on the other hand, dabbles in witchcraft, using her magic to keep up her youthful appearance and physique."