The Wolf's Song

The Choices You Make

Diana

Life is full of choices, and those choices can produce the greatest outcomes or the worst mistakes.

I’m not sure which I am heading for as my taxi pulls up in front of where I discovered Damien is rumored to be staying. I know Michael would be furious, but since his only option is sending me back to New York, one of us has to take extreme measures. I spoke true when I told him I wouldn’t be safe anywhere and if that meant confronting the source of my danger, then so be it.

I thank the driver and exit. In my pocket I have a silver knife and hope shifters suffer the same weakness as vampires.

Unlike Michael’s modern home, Damien lives in more of an abandoned castle. The size nearly doubled but parts of it were run down. I have no idea where the entrance is as greenery flourishes across the aged stones.

Now that I am here, doubt clouds me and I hesitate. A noise behind me causes me to jump, but it is only a bird flying away. Smart bird, I chide myself, I could learn a thing or two from animal’s detection of danger.

I start in when I suddenly stop, some self -preservation rearing up. I take my phone out and start to text Michael but stop before I strike a key. If I message him, he’d be here well before I can persuade Damien that his revenge is pointless. Francis and Robert are wolves as well and would alert him and join him just as quickly.

Then I remembered that Andrew is surveying the town, keeping an eye on me while also on guard for, I guess new shifters. I will schedule a text for ten minutes from now. I am careless, but not foolish; I could stay alive for ten minutes at least.

With the message sent I head for what I hope is the door. I barely reach the courtyard when a young-looking woman appears at the door. The dark circles under her eyes explain how powerful the full moon’s pull is. She looks like she was hit by a bus.

“He’s waiting for you,” she snarls, her thick Russian accent surprising me.

She doesn’t wait for me, and I’m forced to follow. The inside smelled of blood and wet dog, I wrinkle my nose as I look around Damien’s establishments. I wasn’t impressed at all. We didn’t walk for long before she opens the door to what should have been a grand drawing room, but instead a poorly patched together four walls held conjoined by peeling flowery wallpaper. The furniture is updated and makes up the rest of the room.

Behind a tilting wooden desk is Damien; he’s holding a book and pretends to read it as even from the doorway I can tell its upside down. He glances over the book and gasps over at me, his surprise at my presence a mockery.

“Do we have a guest? Damn, if I knew I’d be having company I would have had my finest silverware polished,” he mocks.

“If you can even find silverware. My house is spotless and even I have more spoons than forks,” I respond in kind, putting on my brave face. He stands from his chair and walks around his desk to then lean on it. I notice the dried blood on his leg and can’t help but wonder if he was fighting Michael during the full moon. He looks me over, biting his lips as he inspects me.

“Seems Michael has outdone himself with you. Good, the sweeter my revenge will taste.” He smiles, licking his lips now.

The shiver that runs through is from disgust, his undressing me opening counteracting his desire to kill me.

“Michael has nothing to do with what happened to Anna and you know it,” I start, seeking that gusto I had when I confronted Michael, but I knew he wouldn’t hurt him, whereas that is exactly what Damien wants to do to me.

He laughs and slaps the desk and I barely hold in my jerk. “This is great, you’ve come to plead his case. Love, I’ve heard it over and over again. We were both attacked that night, it came out of nowhere, I tried to protect her, but he was too strong, blah blah blah; he’s tried it all. Though this is new,” he smirks, working his jaw.

I shuffle under his stare and give myself away.

“Oh, so he doesn’t know you’ve paid me a visit. Seems like old times then, sharing a lover,” he taunts.

“I could never love you, and from what I’ve learned, I doubt even Anna loved you,” I throw out there. The vein in his neck pulses, but he makes no move towards me still. I want to glance at my watch but am afraid to take my eyes off him.

“Anna was complicated, true; she loved to play games. My favorite was one she called Gentlemen. One would be on a ‘date’ with her, as you call it these days and the other would interfere with that date, taunting her, teasing her, flipping her dress. A real gentleman would defend his lover’s honor, protect her at all costs. If the one left standing isn’t the one from the date, she’d discard him, deeming him too weak to win her heart. Michael and I went back and forth as the victors of that game. Expect when it mattered, he lost,” he snarls the last part.

This woman sounds horrible. The more I hear the less I want too. I may not be perfect, this colossal lapse in judgment proof of that, but Anna’s cruelty is borderline abuse.

“She sounds fun,” I say, my lie apparent. He smirks at me, enjoying our battle of contrite wit. “But she is gone, and I have not nothing to do with her, and logically you know that neither does Michael. You are not foolish enough to think if you harm me, he’ll let you live do you?” I ask.

His smile falters and his trembling is noticeable. He leans forward, as if it will carry his voice to me faster.

“How do you know I’m not counting on it?” he hisses. He pushes off the desk and I step back, for the look in his eyes has shifted from humor to wolf instinct.

“Michael still considers us as bosom friends, lost boys who’s only survival depended on each other. Our shared loss fitting us together, even now. While his closure came from hunting down her killers, mine will only come when the reason she was taken is averaged.’

It was my night with her, and Michael with his striking blue eyes, stole it from me. You know those eyes, right, stared into them for hours I bet, they are the same ones I can’t wait to see filled with the same horror of seeing his love’s throat ripped from her body. This is more than a grudge, he took what was mine and has yet paid the price for it,” he stops halfway to me, his rage increasing his breathing as he barely holds on to it.

I have been foolish to think I could get through to him; getting him to see that Michael is also a victim will never work, as Damien cares not for Michael’s pain, but only his own. The fact that Anna played them both, probably never loved either of them, didn’t seem to matter. I couldn’t tell if this was boyish temperament or grown delusions, but Damien would not be swayed in his course.

“And the price to be paid?” I ask, needing more time to figure out how to escape. I doubt I can get past him and besides the girl, the number of wolves here could be doubled of Michael’s pack. Clearly coming here was a choice that led to a huge mistake, I scolded myself.

“Glad you asked,” his smile returns. “It’s you,” he clarifies as if I didn’t know.

I definitely know, but I know it is ten minutes too late. I finally understand why he kept a distance between us as he starts to shift, silver fur coating his body, nails raking against the uncarpeted floors.

Taking any distraction I can get, I dart from the room, hoping Andrew alerted Michael.