Mistress of Blood and Fur

Chapter 17 - The Brides

Grace

Onyx and I scout the brides’ cabin’s surrounding areas. We don’t catch the person he saw and neither of us smell anything. That’s saying something. I trust Onyx’s senses and mine, but it looks like we may have encountered someone that can protect themselves from detection. It means it’s either a witch or another scent wolf, but one whose powers are more like my mom’s. Stronger.

We check the rooms. Nothing seems to be out of place. The beds and supplies are ready, and I can’t help but smile at how everything is prepared as if in a small hotel. It’s the same thought that came to me upon arrival, but it was a passing one. I was tired then, and I’m now just appreciating what they had done for us.

“Did you help fix up my room?” I ask Onyx.

“Not fix up, but I went sniffing around.”

“Yeah, that’s what I meant.” I grin at him, and he finally relaxes. The intruder, whoever it was, really spooked him.

The other brides are coming soon, and I wonder if I should choose Onyx now. The thought of him moving on to someone else because I’ve taken so long makes me dizzy for some reason.

I go to the last bedroom and sniff around. There’s nothing here, but that doesn’t mean anything anymore. Suddenly, I feel like our mission here is all for nothing. It looks like we have an intruder who can’t be detected. I guess at least we know that nothing or nobody else have passed by here, and there doesn’t seem to be any magic surrounding the room. Of course, I’m still struggling with that part – recognizing magic with my nose. Onyx apparently can sense that.

Feeling a little out of sorts, I turn around and come face to face with Onyx. He has been at my back for the gods know how long but I didn’t feel him. He is mere inches from me, but I don’t find myself in a hurry to step back. His body emanates heat, even as our skin doesn’t exactly touch.

His eyes are on mine, dark pools of mystery. It’s a cliche to say you can get lost in someone’s eyes, but in his case, it’s true. The pupils and the irises seem to become one in his as pure black. These dark eyes gleam as if they have so many secrets wanting to let out. They look pained right now, and I see his right hand rise and fall on his side.

“You can touch me,” I say, not knowing why I’m giving him permission. I don’t know why I’m being so bold. Maybe I’m tired that most wolves have slinked away from me because I smell like an innocent lamb here for the slaughter.

“Are you sure about that?” he asks, his voice husky all of a sudden. We are alone in a room where we are supposed to do our duties to the pack. His father can call on us at any time. We have a safety net. An alarm.

“Yes,” I say, not being a coward all of a sudden.

So he does. He holds my face, his palm rough on my cheek and I find myself leaning toward it. He doesn’t smile, and I believe both of us have stopped breathing. Yet, his heartbeat and mine seem to pound in my ears. His spicy cologne seems to fill my world, not just my nostrils. I smell other things, too – desire, desperation, and a hint of fear. I don’t know why the last one manages to remain in his system.

“Y-you’re special, Grace. I wish I can tell you to leave this place and live your life away from the pressures of pack life, but I can’t do that. It’s your choice.”

“I choose to be here,” I reassure him – and maybe I’m reassuring myself, too.

“Do you choose me?” he asks, exhaling loudly after he asks the question as if it has been waiting to be let out from his chest.

I don’t answer. I just look into his hypnotic eyes. I am caught in the moment, I try to tell myself. This is nothing. I’m just young and the only boys I knew were human. Being with my kind is different, and it excites me. Yes, this is just the thrill of being wanted by those of my kind.

The connections with Onyx, Dash, and Fox are the strongest, but the one who holds my attention the most is right in front of me right now.

Unblinking, we stare into each other’s eyes. His eyes bore into me as if reading me even without a mind link. I remember how I heard him even for the briefest moment, and I don’t know what it even means.

“I’m going to kiss you, Grace,” he says, merely telling me what he’s going to do. He’s not asking for permission but at least he’s giving a warning. I simply tilt my head to allow him, and he does. I’m surprised at how gentle it is, how restrained. He presses his lips on mine, but it lingers. I tingle all over, and just when I think it stops, I realize it’s only beginning. He holds the back of my head with his right hand and deepens the kiss. His tongue slides in my mouth, and I moan. I feel limp, and yet alive at the same time. When I reach out to wrap my arms around his neck, he takes my hips and presses me to his hard body.

Something else is hard, and I gasp. I’m not ready for this. I step back, pushing at his chest gently. I look up to see him looking dazed and hurt.

“I can’t make a choice yet, Onyx,” I explain. “Going beyond a kiss is a choice for me.”

His eyes snaps and his nose flares, and although I can’t hear what he’s thinking, I have an idea what it is. I remember when his fingers were between my legs. That was a lot more than a kiss. As I stare back at him, as a challenge, he retreats a little. I even see a little guilt there. I want to reassure him that there’s nothing to be guilty about. I’m the one who’s sorry and my lips part to apologize.

“Don’t you dare say sorry, Grace. I am stepping back. I know it’s too much, and as I told you earlier, I wish I can let you leave. I thought that when you said you wanted to stay, it was for me.”

I want to tell him that it is. I am staying for him, Fox, and Dash. I want to get to know them better, and then I’ll make a choice. Onyx is right up there, but I also want to be fair to him. He needs to see the other brides first.

“We need to go,” is all I say.

**

A few days pass. Finally, the brides have arrived. I know because I hear the whistles coming from the outside after a bus stops down the slope from the mansion. From where I am, I hear female voices mingling with the numerous male ones.

I sit in the gazebo in the mansion’s garden, reading a book. I’ve been trying to separate myself from the guys so that I can see them from a distance. If I’m always too close, I may not see their faults and not appreciate their best traits, too.

Carlotta passes my way, with her hands on her hips. She eyes me and shakes her head a little. She often dismisses me but I smell something different. She’s uneasy around me.

“Don’t you want to check them out?” she asks.

For once, I agree with her. I must get up and welcome the new brides.

“I’m coming. Let me just put my stuff together,” I say, throwing my earphones, pen, and notebook into my small duffel bag.

“Why do you act as if you’re in college, always carrying around that bag?” Carlotta asks me, with one finely-shaped eyebrow raised.

“I don’t always carry around my bag,” I snap.

“Oh, really? Is it some kind of protection? I notice you’ve been avoiding the boys.”

“No. Just want some quiet time.”

I can’t tell her that I want some time to analyze the guys when they’re not there to influence my feelings. I also want to give them a chance to choose from the new brides. At best, I’m like their girl best friend although it never feels like that with Onyx.

“Right.”

We go down the open gate, and see that there are three girls. They’re all about our age. My heart soars when I see that Great-Aunt Domino and her partner Tamar are also there.

“More women for Opium Hills. Yay!” Carlotta says, not quite so sarcastically.

“We need them.”

“I know. Those cops are bad news,” she mutters.

We walk toward the new arrivals and get introduced. One of them is tall, like a volleyball player. She has short brown hair and brown eyes. Her name is Josie and she’s only a year older than me. Elaine, twenty-four, is a caramel-complexioned girl about my height. She’s a kindergarten teacher in the city. Then, there’s Sarah, twenty-one, who looks like a porcelain doll with her clear, pale skin and jet-black hair that reaches her waist.

The guys rush to introduce themselves. I see my Fox, Dash, and Onyx descending down the slope to meet them, too. It’s better this way. It’s fair.

“Nine women on the hills,” Carlotta says under her breath.

“Nine? There are eight of us: you, Justine, me, the three new brides, my great-aunt, and Tamar.”

“You sure about that?” she asks. She’s not joking around, though, and I smell her fear. It’s more potent than the one I smelled from Onyx the other day.