☽Chapter one☾
I brushed at the dead ivy that draped over the cold headstone. The winds whispering to me lightly in the new fall chill, welcoming me back. I re arranged my fur lined cloak with a fake wide smile on my face that hurt. There was news to tell my mother. Especially about my training.
“So, the elders are telling me that they are going to start advancing my instruction.” I stared down at the turquoise fabric of my dress that pooled around me. My ears perking at the wait of a response that would never come. I have been training since I was a pup. Not by my decision, if I had a say in it I would have never took part in the mania. I would be like the other girls, dainty fragile damsels waiting to be courted when they come of age. I tucked a strand of my raven hair behind my ear.
But I couldn’t be one of those girls; I was like one of the boys. Trained to be tough strong protectors. A warrior of the pack. When the little girls were weaving crowns of flowers I was being taught to kill a rabbit with fur white as snow. I sighed flippantly at this; I could see my breath in the cold night air.
“Why did they choose me momma?” The same question I asked every time I came. I stared at the headstone as if somehow it would materialize into her and answer all my questions. My life was tricky with only my father to raise me, it’s not like we struggled to live. My father was a very successful painter who did portraits for wealthy members of our society. It was just the ache that was left behind of my mother’s absence in my life. I had never met her, never heard her speak, I had never felt my mother’s comforting arms around me when I cried. I never would.
The wind seemed to blow frivolously, making my hair twist and twirl in it. My fists clenched in my lap hoping just this once I could get an answer. A simple word of support to keep going, that I’m doing everything right. But I received no such satisfaction. I brushed away the rest of the dead foliage on the stone so I can see the words striked into it.
Lillian Ava Ellington
A loving wife and nurturing woman never to be forgotten
5.24.1667 – 7.13.1693
In a way it was my fault she wasn’t here. She died giving birth to me. This wouldn’t seem rare, yet it was in my case because lycanthropes don’t die of child birth. In the eyes of the pack it was me who killed her. I lifted the hood of my cloak to conceal my face, so no one could see the tears that trailed there.
Most people looked down at me, like I was not worthy to be one of them. It made me feel small and useless to the pack. My heart pulled with ache and I took a deep breath that felt sickening against my tight corset and I rose hastily. I could bear no more of this.
“I must go, I’ll return to you again.” I placed a slightly wilted lily against the head stone. I was told it was her favorite flower. A tear traveled down my face and fell to the cold ground. With that I walked away, my only light was the darkening sky above. The crunch of dead leaves beneath my feet was the only sound in my ears.
The cemetery was far away from the village, it was one of the reasons I came here so often. So I could be away from everyone’s stares and whispers. The wind blew softly for a moment and I stopped to sniff the air for a split second catching a familiar scent. Soon after, I heard a twig snap not far away from where I was. My head swiveled to the left and I rolled my eyes.
YOU ARE READING
A Kiss in the Shadows
Historical FictionImagine being the girl, the one who is looked down upon as a monster.Everyones eyes are on you, watching. Waiting for you to slip up and prove them right. This is what Calypso Ellington lives through every day, just because on her birthday instead...