The Wolf's Bride

Chapter 19

Two young girls played in a garden. Blooms of pink and red and purple surrounding them, flowers tall as them through which they ran, trees of green so bright, to climb, with fruits hanging low for those who dared to jump, a pond of blue shining like a diamond in the sun.

Two young girls played in a garden. A garden full of life and beauty and joy. They never thought the garden would die, that their once beloved garden would soon be tainted with blood.

I never imagined that after my wedding I would be walking through that same garden again, that I'd be alive to witness the blooming of lilies and roses.

Truly, my mind had been reeling that week, before my wedding. I thought I would be killed, tortured or eaten alive. I was fortunately wrong. Werewolves, with their many secrets and customs, weren't all that bad.

Maybe... Maybe if it wasn't for the Darklings, maybe I would've had time to enjoy a life in a forest, a life among a pack of predators. Maybe if my head didn't have a price on it, I would've learned to love them all. Maybe they would've loved me back.

A sigh escaped my lips, my shoulders slumped in exhaustion as I forced myself to keep walking in my heels, to ignore the pain the wretched shoes caused me now, after I spent so long wearing my comfortable boots.

I stopped in front of the willow overlooking the pond. The bark still bore the emblem of my love for my sister. Alyssa and Elia, always and forever sisters. Of course, in that time, a lifetime ago, those words rang true. But now... now I was happy I didn't have any blades on me. Otherwise I might've acted rashly and tried to rip away the writings, all the meanings it had, all those memories that now seemed so foreign.

The wind blew through the branches and leaves, chilling and unforgiving. I took a step forward, guided by whatever longing was left in me to touch the writing my own hand made, not but ten years ago. The bark was rough, aged and gone through decades of guarding a garden that one day would be around it. My father told me the willow tree was watching over these grounds long before a mansion was ever built next to it, long before flowers surrounded the pond.

The writings survived a decade, perhaps they would survive the next too, a century to come. It was as if they were brand new. I could almost remember how I approached the tree, that wondered summer day, how I held the knife snacthed from breakfast for this exact purpose.

'A lady should not carry a knife.' My father used to say, although even as he scolded me, his eyes were on Elia. She was the lady, I realize now, for I was always meant for the wilderness.

I scoffed as I bent over and in a fit of frustration tool off my blasted shoes. If I were to look back towards the house, most probably I would've seen a man, or male looking down at me, to make sure I wasn't going to hang myself on the bent branches. It was either my father or my husband. I didn't look however, not because I didn't care, but because I didn't want to know which one of them trusted me less.

If it was Alekin, he might be slightly frustrated by what I was going to do next. If it was my father he might be outright furious.

Admittedly, I smiled a little when I unlaced my dress and let it fall at the roots of the tree. Then off the corset went, forgotten next to the dress as I turned all my attentions towards the pond.

I wouldn't dare undress to the skin, just in case some other guest decided to glance upon the garden and see the madwoman taking a bath in the water. A poor, unfortunate soul that would be. But I wasn't that cruel. Not towards people who didn't deserve it.

And so, while holding my underdress in my hands I stepped into the ice cold water of the pond, only for it to stab me with frozen knifes for disturbing its timeless peace.