Wolves of Haven : Lone

Akia & Eve

"You have questions," Beowulf said, offering Damian a blanket.

"That would be putting it mildly," he retorted, taking the blanket. "She...changed, that is the only way I can describe it. Her smell even changed as she stood there. She was no longer the woman I love, but..."

"Evil," Beowulf offered, taking a seat on the floor.

Damian gave him a look. "I wouldn't call it evil... How is she possible? How is any of this possible?"

Beowulf shrugged. "Sex, I would imagine," he said with a chuckle. "How long have you known what she is?"

"Years," Damian admitted, his attention on the face of the unconscious woman on the other side of the bars separating them. "Her cycle is something I actually look forward to," he admitted with a small smile. "The sex is amazing, animalistic of course, but there's this moment when she's right at the peak of release that our souls entwine, and I can feel, hear, and sense everything within her that she is much too reserved to share with me. One night, she nearly went over the edge, and it was a struggle to bring her back. I didn't know what edge she was nearly going over or what would happen, but I clearly sensed that she was conflicted about it because she was suddenly flooded with fear. I stopped, made her stop, and tried to console her. She tried to open up to me, but as quickly as the words were there, she was swallowing them again, and they were replaced by tears."

Beowulf shook his head; he was unaware of any of that since she left home right after her first cycle.

"One time when Akia was upset," Damian continued, "and really emotional, she lashed out and accidentally scratched me. Once she apologized, and cried some more, we were once again in a passionate embrace. When I showered, the water stung at my back and chest where she had scratched me. They weren't healing. And that was the moment I knew that something was very wrong.

"Slightly scared... Okay, I will admit that I was terrified, so I ran from her, tried to keep myself from her by working late and spending time with my family. But it was of no use. Everything reminded me of her; my dreams were plagued by the memories of our time together; her scent haunted me; and her taste I couldn't wash from my tongue. My mother told me that the answers lay in my heart, and that I needed to listen to my heart for once. So I did."

Beowulf nodded. "Do you regret it?"

"Not at all. Never have I regretted anything when it pertains to your daughter. I love her," Damian assured him. "I would die for her, and when my father finds out, I just might."

That, oddly enough, gave Beowulf comfort and might have prevented a war between packs for the moment.

"We don't know where she stems from," Beowulf said in a soft tone. "Son, stop eavesdropping," he called out.

A blue-tinted wolf lopped the rest of the way down the stairs then sulked into the cellar and flopped down next to Beowulf.

Tenderly he rubbed his furry blue head. "You can stay until Eve comes," he offered.

The young wolf nodded.

"Eve?" Damian asked.

"That's what my daughter calls her wolf," he explained. "She has no control over her, none, and that terrifies Akia. When I found her, it was purely by accident, and she was terrified and confused, backed into a corner and nearly killed me, but I took a chance and gambled on her."

Damian swallowed the lump in his throat. "Where did you find her?"

"While dealing with an issue one of my lovely sons had found himself neck deep in while in Cambodia, I heard whispers of a travelling show that was unlike any other, and for the right price a man could play with the talent."