Wolfshire, winter 1854
*Tristan*
I am waiting, not moving a muscle and not making a sound.
Sitting on a large rock in the center of the ruins of the old church, I do not feel any distress even if I probably should. The snow is falling in fat wet flakes and the icy wind is howling around me like a pack of wolves but I stay still as a statue.
I will not allow any happy memories to enter my mind. To be honest I am not excited for my brothers to return. I will not be happy about it. It is just a fact that I am waiting for.
On this dreadful night it is ten years ago to the day that they left me. Like I was nothing, like I was trash to be thrown out, like we were not actual brothers with the same forefathers and the same blood running through us. All they had left me was the promise that on this very night they would return and we would finally get revenge on our uncle, the man who had wanted us dead so he could become the Alpha of the snow Moon pack.
Throughout the passing years I could have killed him myself several times. But I have kept to the shadows and merely watched as Alpha Danix Rafe has gone around pretending to be someone he isn’t. I know he is the one I should truly hate and despise, and I sure as hell has no love for him, but neither do I for my brothers, and their betrayal cut me much deeper.
I especially hate Raphael, because he called me a cry baby. And Stephan for not comforting me and telling me that everything would be alright.
I had been all of ten winters old and scared like no kid should never feel fear. My brothers, the infamous Rafe twins, were four years older. They always seemed to know what the other thought, felt and feared, to get what the others were striving for. I have not seen Them even once since they left me at a workhouse and disappeared into the sunset together, not as much as a letter.
That evening I cried, screamed and even begged.
I am ashamed now to think back on my behavior and weakness that ratchet evening. But it taught me one thing, to repress the tears and emotions, to harden my heart until I luckily feel nothing at all.
Welcoming the numbness that spreads in my body until it matches my soul I don't even care to hold my gloved hands towards the small fire that is trying to expel the darkness.
It doesn’t even enter my mind that my brothers could be dead and that is the reason for their absence. I simply assume they are aware of how Well I am doing on my own. I have managed all these years without them, I have survived due to my own strength and diligence and I sure as hell do not need them now.
In the workhouse where I stayed, punishment was more frequent than a hearty meal. Especially for someone like me, who was a bit of a chubby boy when I first arrived. I loved my sweets and candy. I still do, but I can control myself, so it is now more of a rare treat. I will never again let myself grow fat and slow. I have shown the world how swift I am, how … deadly I can be when needed.
With time and hard work,I had finally managed to shape the workhouse and I made my way to the Capital, where I lived on the street as a rogue. I had barely scraped through, until I met a man who knew all of the city's darkest secrets. Now those belong to me.
When all that remains of the fire is ashes and the memory of warmth, and the sky is slowly turning orange on the horizon, the cold has settled into the depths of my bones. I decide it is time to unfold my body and get up.
With the knowledge that they will not show wade through the broken building to what was once a majestic window.
I should not be surprised that they fail to show. I instantly push away the seed of disappointment threatening to take root and grow into fiery anger and pain, to unfold into loneliness. It is not like they mean anything to me any longer, I won’t allow them too.
They can burn in hell for all I care.
With my face set in a mask of indifference I turn from the former indse, my long coat flaring out like a cape. I slowly give my expensive leather gloves a tug, even if they do not need it at all.
I look at the local man who escorted me here. “I need you to wait here every night till they show”.
“For how long should I do that sir ?” The man asks. “And what about pay ?”
It’s a good question, the first one. How long is long enough ?
“Till they show”. I end up saying again. “And you will be paid the same as you Got tonight for every night … payment once a week”.
“And if they never show up ?” He asks.
I don't even want to think about that option. I do not want to give life to the thought that they could actually be dead. That would leave me totally, completely and absolutely alone. Also it would rob me of the much deserved pleasure of telling them that I do not need them in my life. To tell them that they mean nothing to me, less than nothing even. Just like I had meant nothing to them.
“They will come”. I say with certainty.
Walking out of the ruins I make a smooth change into my wolf, galloping into the crisp morning air. One sentence repeating itself in my mind over and over: You are all alone. You are all alone. You will always be alone, and you deserve it. That is why they left you.
The Capital, April 1859*Everly* Please don’t go. Please don’t leave me. The words keep repeating themselves in my mind. To say them out loud would be too final and too cruel. My dear papa has been caught in a vortex of pain for way too long already. He is slowly wasting away, and he is already a mere shadow of the strong and always laughing Alpha of the Blue diamond pack. The one person in the world I love the most. Sitting in a chair beside his bed, I am holding his withered hand, a hand too weak to squeeze back. So I do the squeezing, trying to tell him with my touch what I can not bring myself to utter with words: It’s all right to let go. Partly because the moment he is gone I have no idea what will happen to me. I try to ignore that fact. I have no wish to make his final moments more difficult, but the sad truth is that I have no idea how to get through even one day without him. As I however have no choice I will have to steal myself and find a way. Right now all I care abo
*Everly* A week has come and gone. I had discovered pretty quickly that leaving my bedroom was not an option. My half brother has locked the blasted door from the outside. I do however not shout, cry, scream, pound my fists on the thick wood, or kick against it even if it is what I truly want. I maintain my dignity. So I simply sit and wait, gazing out the window onto the glorious garden that continues to flourish. Should it not be draped in black ? It seems almost disrespectful for it to remain so brightly colored, but then I suppose it is simply striving to tell me that the world carries on. Tears will dry, and hearts will heal. Things might never again be as they were, but that doesn’t mean my life will never again be happy. Orley had promised that he would make sure that I am taken care of. So I am not extremely concerned, as promises like that are not to be broken, especially the ones made to your dying father. In spite of the fact that my half brother does not seem to care
*Tristan* I know that I have only been invited due to debt. Debt that is owed to me. But that is how it always goes, I owe nothing to no one. Not my friendship, my loyalty, my kindness and especially not my hard earned money. But Alpha Littlefoot, the newly appointed Alpha of the Blue diamond pack and a man of very little worth if you ask me, do owe me a fair amount of money, which is why I am currently sitting in his fancy library. I can’t help but wonder how soon the place will be empty of all the former Alpha’s prized possessions. He wasn’t a very wealthy Alpha to begin with and what little he had left his son has already been lost gambling in my establishment. And now Orley wants his credit extended, and that is why tonight he pretends we have some kinda friendship, that is not at all real. As I lounge comfortably in a soft chair near the fireplace I sip the expensive scotch that I doubt the Alpha can even afford, watching the assembled Young Alpha’s chatter and chuckle while
*Tristan* Finally, she is standing in front of me, her small gloved hands folded tightly in front of her. With her this near to me, I can see clearly now that her eyes are the most beautiful blue. No, more than blue. Violet. I have never seen anything like them. I imagine them smoldering with heated passion, darkening, gazing at me in wonder as I deliver her pleasure such as she has never experienced. An easy task if she has indeed never known a man’s touch. But just as I have no use for mistresses, I also have no desire for virgins. I have not been innocent in a good long while. I have no interest in innocence. It is a weakness, a condition to be exploited, a quick path to ruin. It holds no appeal. She holds no appeal. I rethink the words in an attempt to convince myself of their truth. But as her eyes burn into mine, I am left with the realization that she is not only innocent, but very, very dangerous. A silly thought. I could destroy her with a look, a word or a sarcastic lau
*Tristan* Obviously, I have been drinking a bit more than I realized, but it doesn't matter now. The challenge has been spoken, and I never go back on my words. Standing, I tug hard on my black brocade waistcoat that suddenly feels far too tight. “If any of you touch her, I shall happily separate you from the particular part that touched her. Littlefoot has assured us that she is pure. I don’t want her soiled by your sweaty hands or anything else. Have I made myself clear ?” “But you were only here to watch, to make sure ….” Littlefoot cut off his sentence and steps nearer, lowering his voice. “… To make sure I have the funds to cover my debt”. “When have I ever confided my plans in you ?” I say in a low growl. He looks slightly hopeful. “Then you’ll pay me the five hundred quid that Ekroth was willing to give ?” “I will allow you to continue to breathe. We will call it even, shall we ?” I say flatly. “But the idea of this evening was that she would go to the highest bid
*Everly* Late the following afternoon, freed from my lovely prison, I can’t recall a single time where I have ridden in a carriage with Orley. It is odd to have him sitting across from me, staring out the window at the darkening skies. It will no doubt be raining by nightfall. The air feels heavy and damp, as though it is simply waiting to unburden itself. I don’t even know where we are going, although I recognize the area as we have not yet traveled far from our home. When he had come to my room and commanded me to get ready for a carriage ride, I had almost told him to go to the devil. He had left me to worry all night, wondering if any of the alphas had hinted about an interest in me. But I had been too desperate to leave the house to risk upsetting him by revealing that I am angry with him for his behavior and lack of regard for my feelings. So I had simply donned a black walking dress, matching pelisse, and hat. I hate appearing so docile as it gives the impression that I a
*Raphael*I am standing in the open doorway that leads into my brother’s office at the gambling hell. I can’t recall ever seeing the door closed. At his desk, my brother is bent diligently over his ledgers, his dark head bent in concentration, just as he had been the first time that I had seen him after twelve long years of separation. Tristan’s giant of a man had been waiting at the abbey ruins and he had brought me here, to this very doorway. My grip tightens on the large package I am holding, I shift my gaze to the shelves on the far wall where Tristan keeps his assemblage of assorted globes. He had once told me that he collects them because they give him hope of there being a place better than where he is. I am saddened to see that my brother has acquired a new one. After Tristan had helped me right a wrong I had stupidly done to Anne before she became my wife … when I had no expectation of her ever becoming my wife … I had thought we might be on our way to closing this rift betw
*Tristan* I had never expected to be glad to have a visit from my brother, but for a few moments I had been spared thoughts of miss Everly. She has been haunting me all day, and I know that as of twenty-two minutes ago … if Littlefoot is punctual at all … she has arrived at my residence. Laurence will show her to her bedchamber, introduce her to the maid … Lila … who will see to dressing her, fixing her hair, and whatever else ladies’ maids do. Servants will assist in unpacking her things. They would see that she is settled and comfortable as she waits for my arrival. Spinning the globe, I suddenly wish I was somewhere else … someone else. If my brothers ever learn the truth about the sort of man I truly am, they would want little to do with me. I shove back the rancid thoughts. Mick, my main man, steps through the doorway. His slender physique hides a well-toned body that often gives me a good going over when we are sparring in the boxing room hidden away downstairs. “I though