Falling For A Wolf Box Set: BBW Werewolf Shifter Romance

Chapter 10

10

He carried me back to my house and didn’t put me down until we reached the couch. I scowled at him, but he turned his back on me and fiddled with the fireplace while my leg burned. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“I’ve been told my existence is very impossible many times,” he commented without turning around.

“Is your being a werewolf some sort of a curse for you being an ass?” I quipped. He paused in his crumpling of newspaper and his shoulders tensed. That’s when I realized this was a touchy topic. “I didn’t mean it the way it came out.”

He shook his head and resumed his work. “It’s fine. I also call it a curse, but what I did to deserve it I haven’t figured out. Let’s just call it fate.” He blew on the pile he’d made of newspaper and small sticks, and the fire jumped to life. He turned and walked on his knees back to the couch. “Now let’s take a look at that wound. You’ll need some bandages and-”

I pulled my wounded leg away from him and narrowed my eyes. “Uh-huh, you promised to answer my question,” I reminded him.

He sighed, dropped his hands, and plopped himself on the other end of the couch to give some space between us. I noticed he averted his eyes from me. “How old do you think I am?” he asked me.

I looked him up and down, and shrugged. “Thirty-five?” I guessed.

He chuckled. “Add another two hundred years to that count and you wouldn’t be too far off, though it’s been so long even I can’t recall the exact year.”

My eyes widened. “You’re kidding, right?”

He shook his head. “No. I was born some time in the latter half of the seventeenth century. Maybe I was born the same time as this country, but I can’t be sure. I came from a family of well-to-do merchants in Boston. We bought, sold and traded goods from Caribbean all the way to the East Indies. I sometime journeyed on the ships, we had a half dozen in our fleet, and on one of the journeys we happened to land on a deserted island in the Caribbean. At least, we thought it was deserted.” He ran a hand through his hair and shuddered.

My face fell and I lowered my voice to a soft whisper. “You don’t have to tell me this if it’s that tough,” I told him.

He sighed and dropped his hand into his lap. “It’s almost a relief to tell someone after so long keeping it inside of me. It drops some of the weight of loneliness off my shoulders, if you’ll pardon the cliched phrase.”

I smiled. “I’ll forgive you this one time.”

His lips twitched up before they fell back down. “Well, we made camp and set off in groups of two for fresh water and food. Those days the Caribbean was a giant food basket to sailors. There were turtles, fruit trees, and wild pigs, the bounty of a tropical paradise. I and another fellow about my age, I’m afraid I’ve forgotten his name, we went into the interior in search of a spring. The jungle was strangely devoid of the call of birds and a dread hung over us. Maybe it was our natural instincts warning us, but we were both young lads and didn’t heed its call. We found a bubbling spring among some rocks and filled our flasks. Before we were finished the fellow grabbed my sleeve and gave a pull. ‘Did you hear that?’ he asked me. I told him I hadn’t heard anything, but it was probably a wild pig scrounging around. He said it didn’t sound like a pig. It sounded like a soft pad of something along the jungle ground. I told him he was being a scared fool, but by this time his words and the atmosphere had spooked me enough I suggested we return to the ship. We had just turned away from the spring when a shadow leapt from the jungle. I jumped out of the way, but slipped on some rocks. The thing dove at my companion and latched its long fangs onto his arm. I fell hard on my side, but turned over at the other man’s screaming. In front of me, hunched over my companion, was a giant wolf. It’s eyes were a bright yellow, much like mine when I need to see in the dark.”

I shuddered at the remembrance of his eye color. “Yeah, I noticed that.”

“My companion was still alive, but the creature had every intention of killing him. I grabbed a rock and threw it at its head. It connected just above the brow, and the wolf turned to me and snarled. I scuttled to my feet and raced across the rocks toward the path we’d taken to the spring. The wolf must have thought I was a more worthy challenge and followed after me. I raced through the jungle as fast as I could run, but the creature overtook me. It jumped on my back and pushed me to the ground. My face slammed into the rotting foliage and sand of the island ground, and the wolf buried its fangs into my shoulder.” He paused and pulled his shirt over his head. Any other normal time and I would have been thrilled with this circumstance, but on his right shoulder was a large patch of scar tissue. The flesh was a softer pink than any other part of his body, and here and there I detected teeth marks. “Another few inches and it would have tore into my neck veins, but it wanted sport. I jabbed my other arm into his face and it rolled off me. I rolled over and grabbed the pistol from my pocket. It was a weapon of extraordinary make with a silver handle and a sturdy barrel. I pointed the barrel at the beast., and it growled and jumped at me. I fired a shot, but it only seemed to anger the thing. It no longer wanted to toy with me, but kill me. I swung the grip against the creature’s face and it was as though I’d placed a scalding slip of metal against its flesh. It burned its fur and skin, and the creature screamed and stumbled back. The scream was more man than wolf, and I still shudder whenever I recall that hideous sound.”

“So it was the werewolf that bit you?” I guessed.

He nodded. “Yes. The creature ran back toward the spring, and the sound of my shot brought my companions from the ship. They took me to the ship and scoured the area for both the wolf and my mate, but both were gone. There was only a blood spot near the spring where the wolf had attacked my companion. It didn’t take long for the superstitious sailors to speak of a loup garou, and call for the captain to set sail and leave that accursed island. Even he admitted, privately to me and after we had sailed, that there was something not right about that island. We left the island without finding my companion and returned to Boston. The trip took a week and I was delirious with fever the entire time.” He chuckled. “My mother nursed me back to health on a diet of bitter roots and peppermint candy. I was well within a week, but a week later I learned the true damage the wolf had done to me.”

“A full moon,” I whispered.

He turned away and sighed. “Yes, the full moon.”

I furrowed my brow. “But it wasn’t a full moon tonight. Heck, I couldn’t even see any stars with all that rain.”

“The loup garou, or werewolf, doesn’t need the full moon to change except the first moon after they’ve been marked by the curse,” he explained. “On that first full moon I was making jolly in one of the pubs when the sun set and I felt a fever return. Fearing it was the illness I hurried home, but the moon overtook me. I was in a near-deserted part of the town when I changed, and then I. . .I hunted.”

“Like the other loup garou had done,” I finished for him.

“Precisely. I awoke the next day covered in blood and with news of a monster prowling the town. I told my father and mother what I had become, but they didn’t believe me.” He scoffed and ran a hand through his hair. “I could hardly believe it myself. Who would want to believe they were a werewolf? My wish was overcome by my desire to be sure, and during that next month I went about ensuring the safety of everyone in the town by creating a jail of sorts with iron fetters and chains. When the full moon came I sealed myself in this cage of sorts deep in the woods and waited for the curse.”

“So you changed and stayed put?” I guessed.

He chuckled and shook his head. “No. I didn’t change at all. Nothing happened. I awoke the early next morning in my crude hut with sore wrists and confusion. It was then I decided to put my head to better use and research this beast. My father had an extensive library, a very rare thing in that time, and I found what I sought amongst his books on creatures of folklore. The loup garou was a rare werewolf in that it could change its shape at will, and it was then I realized I could control the beast. I was elated. This wasn’t a curse at all. I could change into a wolf, to be sure, but what strength I had! What speed I could achieve in that form! I returned to my hut and willed myself to change. It took great effort and time, but I learned to change myself. I took to exploring the woods and glens in that form, and became acquainted with the fur trade through my keen nose. I expanded my father’s trade into furs and the family fortune grew. I married, and no one knew my secret, not even my wife, lovely creature that she was.”

“I’m guessing this doesn’t have a happily-ever-after end,” I mused.

He leaned back and contemplated the crackling fire. The flames cast shadows on his youthful face, but I detected a great age in those lines. “At age fifty I realized I wasn’t aging. My wife and family also realized something was wrong. They shunned me, and the town with them. I was sent away, my father said to manage the fur trade in the west, but I knew better. I frightened them. After a year they stopped answering my letters, and one day I decided to travel east to Boston. I found the place greatly expanded and avoided those who knew me. I reached my house and found my wife deep in mourning. I was dead.”

I scrutinized his appearance. “You look really good for a dead man,” I commented.

He smiled. “Yes, I believe my servants thought the same. They’d been told I was dead, and when I arrived they screamed and ran from the residence. My wife was less surprised. My family and she had agreed to the deceit to hide my unnaturalness. She begged me to leave and never return. We had no children, so at her bidding I left. I traveled westward and became a trapper. I was very good at it and built up a small nest egg. I invested in mining and became nearly as rich as my father.” His smile slipped from his lips. “The years passed and one-by-one my family fell to age and illness. I stopped paying attention to them when my mother passed away around 1830. I gathered my wealth, invested the majority, and stuck myself in any hole near civilization that I thought would be safe. More time passed and I found the cabin across the way for sale, and took it. The rest of my life, you know.”