So he had read to her. The first book had been Alice in Wonderland, which he found to be ironic considering Jewel had been taken from her life in the human realm and thrown into the figurative rabbit hole that just happened to lead to his world. The next book was A Wrinkle in Time, which was again about humans being made aware of a seemingly alternate world that was going on around them while they were completely oblivious. By the third book, which was Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, he was catching on that Sally was trying to make a point. Jewel might be his mate, but she was also very human and very new to this world. Though it was no surprise to him to have a true mate that he would claim to be his forever, it would be very surprising and probably overwhelming to her once she woke up. If she woke up.
He put down the hairbrush and pulled his seat around so that he was sitting next to her in his usual spot. When he looked over at the table where Sally usually left the books he found a note, once again, on top of the stack. He picked it up and felt his chest tighten as he read it.
One month. That was all it said.
He knew exactly what she was referring to. He had one month until Jewel turned eighteen. One month until the bond that was supposed to be between them would open, creating a connection that they would share with no other. One month and he would know if she would reject him or accept him. He longed for it but at the same time feared it. He wondered if once the bond was open he would be able to look into her mind and see why she was so far from him. Would he be able to somehow call her back to him? Dalton knew the other message Sally was trying to convey to him through the note was that once the mental bond was open Jewel would have admission to his thoughts and his memories, no matter how dark they might be. Essentially, Sally was saying she can either find out because he chose to trust her with the information, or she can find out through her right as his mate to have access to all of him.
Beneath the note there was only one book. Dalton shook his head with a bitter laugh as he read the title. How fitting, he thought, as he picked it up and leaned back, getting as comfortable as someone his size could in a small chair. He needed to tell her his story but not that night. On that night he wanted one more chance to just be Dalton, the male he had become before he would have to show her the Dalton he had once been.
He opened the book and began. “Beauty and the Beast, by Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve. “Chapter 1, A Tempest at Sea.” In a country very far…”
Jewel’s mind was still trying to catch up from Dalton’s hands being in her hair as Dalton’s voice filled her mind. He had washed her hair, something so simple, and yet for him to serve her in such a way, to treat her with such reverence, brought tears to her eyes, or at least she thought it did. She wanted to hug Sally for asking Dalton to help do the usual tasks of taking care of her, and though most girls probably would have been embarrassed, logically she knew it had to be done. She couldn’t very well lay there in her own filth, so who better to do it than the person who continually assured her that he would take care of her? He was obviously taking his oath very seriously if he was willing to wash and brush her hair. A thought popped into her mind then. She wondered if it bothered him that her hair was short. Though what she read was fiction, it seemed like in all of her love stories the heroine had long flowing locks that the hero could run his fingers through. Then she wondered if she would grow it out for him, if that’s what he wanted? She had never considered whether or not she would change things about herself for a man because she honestly believed no man would ever see her in a romantic light.
The rich tone of his voice drew her from the thoughts of his hands in her hair. He was reading to her again and it was one of her favorite fairytales. Her mind immediately flipped through the catalogs of information that she knew about the book. Beauty and the Beast was originally written in French and later translated to English and there had been multiple adaptations done. The one Dalton was reading was the original French version. She had read it many times, but it had never sounded as good as it did right now.
Jewel had no sense of time in the place her spirit had retreated to, and so when he finally read The End, she didn’t know if it had taken him all day, all night, or a combination. She could only imagine how boring it must be to read to her every time he came to see her. She enjoyed hearing the stories that she had read many times. There weren’t many classics that she hadn’t read. But though she appreciated his effort, what she really wanted was to hear more of his story.
He had begun telling it quite a while ago, but since then he had not shared any more with her. The shame she had heard in his voice when he spoke of his past was no doubt the reason he kept silent. Jewel was beginning to wonder if he would ever tell her. She had heard him speak to Sally, and even a man named Dillon, about her being his mate. This triggered a memory from her time in the dark forest where she, Kara, and Heather had been held prisoner by the evil fae woman. Heather had told them that werewolves existed. After traveling with a woman who claimed to be a fairy, by disappearing and then reappearing in a different location, Jewel didn’t doubt werewolves might exist. She wondered what the ramifications of such a revelation meant for her as a gypsy healer, but looking at it from a logical point of view it made sense to her that perhaps the werewolves had more in common with natural wolves than being fury.
For instance, she had read that wolves in the wild had a mate, only one, for the duration of their lives. Natural wolves lived in packs with a specific hierarchy—with an Alpha at the top and then the rest found their place according to who was strongest. She had heard Dillon say that he was Dalton’s Alpha, which she deduced to mean that werewolves did indeed have a similar system to natural wolves. She found herself quite fascinated with the information and often forgot that it wasn’t a book she was reading, but reality—her reality.
So after all of her knowledge had been exhausted on the matter, she began to have questions. Had Dalton chosen her as his mate or was there something magical about it like her being a gypsy healer? If he chose her, on what criteria had he based his decision? They had yet to even meet, so it wasn’t like he had a plethora of information on her. Furthermore, if he had not chosen her, but instead was somehow magically stuck with her, how did he feel about it? Was their mating simply a pairing of a compatible female and male in order to procreate and keep the werewolf numbers up? Or was it something deeper? She so badly wanted to speak and to ask all of her questions. Jewel loved information, loved learning, and it drove her crazy to have so many variables dancing around with no way to solve them.
With his reading done she knew that he would now tell her goodbye and leave her to herself and her thoughts. She knew she couldn’t expect him to just sit there all of the time staring at her unmoving form, but she dreaded when he left. She felt his breath on her neck as she always did before he left. The only time it was different was when he gave her the warm liquid that Sally claimed to be his blood. Jewel didn’t believe that, however. Blood would never taste that good or make her feel so connected to another. She figured it must be symbolic in some way, which is why Sally likened it to blood. This was not one of those times. Instead he blew on her gently as if blowing on a wound to stop the sting and then whispered to her the same words he said every time.
“Keep fighting, Little Dove. I will return.”
Then he was gone and she was still there stuck in darkness, lonely, and scared that she might never find her way back. She was beginning to grow cold, lost in her conscious as she was, and the only time she had a measure of warmth was when Dalton was with her.
Something had been growing inside of her during the times when she was alone. Fear. Fear that he would not come back but would leave her forever. Even if she was his so called mate, how could anyone want to have to care for an invalid when they didn’t even know that person? He had no ties to her. In truth she was no one to him so why wouldn’t he tire of reading to her or caring for her mundane needs? Why not retreat any further away from the pain that
would surely come if he deserted her?
“You will not stop fighting, Jewel,” Sally’s voice pierced through the thick fog of panic, and Jewel felt the healer’s warm hand on her forehead. She knew that Sally couldn’t hear her thoughts; she had tried speaking to her, even yelling to no avail. But when Sally touched her and used her healer abilities she was able to pick up on Jewel’s emotions. Every time Dalton left the healer came to her and gave her what felt like a mental slap in the face. It was necessary and Jewel appreciated it. She didn’t like being led by her emotions. She wanted facts, truths that told her what was or wasn’t.
“He will be back. He never goes far, and if he didn’t leave and go clean up, the stench of him would begin to make you want to hurl. And that would suck seeing as how you can’t move.”
Sally definitely had a way of putting things in perspective. The cool air hit Jewel’s forehead as Sally moved her hand, but she didn’t leave.
“I know you can hear me, Jewel,” Sally told her. “I don’t know how I know that, but when I do my healer mojo thing I can sense it. I’m hoping that once you turn eighteen, the bond between you and Dalton will open, and he will be able to speak with you and you with him. That would make life a tad easier when it comes to figuring out how to bring you back.” Sally sounded tired and Jewel felt bad that she was constantly having to tend to her. “From what the girls have told me about you, I imagine it’s driving you crazy not to be able to ask about all this mate talk. And since men are about as helpful as an armless postman about sharing information of any kind be it sensitive or simply facts, I don’t imagine Dalton will give you a whole lot. So if you have some time and don’t have any place to be…,” she chuckled.
Ha, ha, Sally, funny girl, Jewel thought dryly.
“Then I am going to tell you the story of the Canis lupis. This is a fairy tale—the likes of which you have never heard. Disney has nothing on the lupine. Seriously, if they turned our lives into one of those reality shows, the ratings would be off the charts, if for no other reason than werewolf men are, how would an intellectual like you put it?” Jewel listened as Sally made a ‘hmm’ sound as she considered her own question. “Okay how about the males of the Canis lupis species genetically gravitate towards a level of attractiveness that humans can’t even begin to fathom.”
Jewel snorted a laugh in her mind. Or you could just say hot, with a double t. But who am I to judge?
“Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, like another realm actually,” Sally began and Jewel realized that this story might have quite a lot of side commentary that most fairy tales did not. Again, who was she to judge? She was, after all, lying in a comatose state unable to join the rest of civilization in the journey called life. If Sally’s fairy tale, which was apparently true, contained a good bit of cliff notes, then she would happily listen.
“A goddess known as the Great Luna created a race by joining humans with wolves.” There was a pause. “Okay, so that didn’t come out exactly the way I wanted it to. I don’t mean she had like wolves, you know, joining humans as in the biblical sense. That totally was not what I was going for…”
If ever Jewel wanted to do one of those face palm things, now would be the time.
Chapter 5
“Living in the Bronx of New York City does something to a girl. You have to become hard in order to survive. There is no room for weakness because the weak become prey, and prey die. I have seen some very questionable things where I am from, but none so questionable as the tragedy before me, nor any as hilarious.” ~ Stella
“Is there anything you can do to help him?” the pixie king asked the three healers. Stella knew that he could see in their faces that they didn’t have a clue how to help his brother, but like any fool wishing for the unattainable, he asked anyway.
“Put him out of his misery?” Stella finally spoke up. She saw Heather nod from the corner of her eye and Anna made an mmm-hmm sound.
“Kill him?” Ainsel asked and his voice jumped an octave.
“What I have found in my work with animals is that sometimes the merciful thing to do is put them down,” Heather added gently.
“Can’t you just put him back right?”
Stella bit back her laughter because she could see that the king was obviously distressed over the matter. But really, it was his brother’s own fault he was in such a predicament. He was a womanizer and apparently he had fiddled with the wrong woman. It always amazed her how surprised someone acted when they were caught in a crime. What were they expecting—a slap on the hand and twenty minutes in time out? Ainsel’s brother had finally been brought to task over his promiscuous ways but was not expected to suffer the consequences.
“Even if we could, it wouldn’t be right.” Stella folded her arms across her chest and met the king’s gaze. “Sometimes you have to practice tough love. If you constantly get your brother out of trouble, how will he learn?”
“Okay, now I’m just dying here,” Adam said from somewhere behind the three girls. “What could possibly be so bad?”
“Shh,” Crina scolded her mate.
“Have you talked with Peri about it?” Anna asked. “Isn’t she someone you respect, whose judgment you would trust?”
Ainsel shook his head vigorously. “Peri, of all, cannot know.”
“I think I agree with him on that one,” Elle said as she stepped up next to Anna. “Peri isn’t known for her discretion.”
“But she might be able to help him,” Anna pointed out.
Elle shook her head. “Whatever was done to the king’s brother is obviously humiliating. Peri would never give mercy to a male who had earned his disgrace.”
Sorin, having taken the role of leader in their little group, pushed away from the tree he had been leaning on and walked towards the king. “They have given you their answer; now what say you? Shall you still grant us sanctuary, or do we need to be on our way?”
Ainsel looked once again at each of the healers; his eyes stopped on Stella and she knew he was hoping she would have a change of heart. He needed to get used to disappointment, she thought to herself.
When he realized that there would be no help from them, his shoulders slumped slightly in defeat. “I gave Peri my word that I would allow you to stay here. I will not go back on that.”
Sorin gave the king a slight bow and then motioned for the group to follow him. He led them back to the clearing that had been prepared for them, and Stella braced herself for the questions that were about to bombard them. She really hoped she could answer them before she started laughing, but the odds of that were not looking very good as she felt her shoulders begin to shake with the effort to keep herself composed. Anna was having the same level of success as her own laughter bubbled out of her.
“Okay,” Adam said as he glanced at Elle. “Barrier?”
“Yep,” Elle nodded and they both worked their magic to create a sound proof, but unseen, wall around them.
“I’m with Adam on this,” Crina said as she stepped closer to the now giggling healers. “What did you all see? Sorry, Heather, no offense.”
“None taken,” Heather said around her laughter. “Honestly, I’m sure it would be funnier if I could imagine what they had described to me,” she pointed to her eyes, “but I can’t help but laugh with these to yahoos cracking up.”
Stella held up one hand to Crina and the others waiting to hear what they had seen in the carriage while she clutched her stomach with her other hand. She took several deep breaths attempting to compose herself. When she, Anna, and Heather were finally letting out composed sighs, she wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes and pulled her shoulders back.
“So,” she began with a clap of her hands. “Ainsel made it clear that his brother has a little bit of a problem thinking with a part of his anatomy that should not be used for thinking. From what I can gather based on what I saw was that whatever woman who last befell under his charms decided enough was enough. I’m thinking the conversation went some
thing like this. I heard you been sniffing around a whole bunch of other pixie behinds. I told you; I don’t play that. If you want to act like a dog sniffing every tail that is lifted in your face then perhaps your nose should be replaced with something more suitable. After all, it isn’t your nose that the ladies need to look out for.” Stella wiped the smile from her face as she looked back at the blank faces staring at her. She was waiting for the moment when the light bulb would go off. She didn’t have to wait long.
“Mother of pixie dust!” Adam grinned. “Are you telling me that the offended pixie put his,” he pointed to below his belt and then up to his face. “On his…where his…,”
Anna and Stella were nodding as they listened to Adam talk through his revelation.
“Oh, that is too much!” Elle laughed and Sorin had to help hold her up as the convulsions that had rocked the healers before suddenly rolled through her. Sorin wasn’t laughing. He actually looked like he might be in pain, no doubt thinking about how Ainsel’s brother must feel stuck in such a state.
“No wonder the king was freaking out,” Crina giggled. “That would be like one of us walking around with a big boob on the front of our face.”
Adam’s laughter stopped like a water faucet had been turned off. He straightened up and frowned at his mate. “What would be wrong with that?”
Crina slugged him in the arm and Stella could tell she hadn’t held back any of her werewolf strength as Adam rubbed the offended spot.