Shadow Wolves: His Black Rose (Book 6)

Elizabeth I was digging through some old scrolls and books. I was busy sorting out in the library, and found a strange black leather journal, bound with a leather strap. It had a silver rose embossed on it. This seemed like the perfect excuse to put off sorting out this mess for another day… I carefully untied the leather strap that seemed to look so brittle, but in fact, was just as strong as the day it was made. Strange… The book was covered in dust, just like everything on this side of the library. So, I grabbed the hem of my shirt to wipe the cover clean with as much finesse as I could muster at that point. I was burning to start turning its pages, but I needed to make sure I didn’t damage it in the process. Pondering if I wanted to get up from my very comfortable corner in the library where I spent my days hiding from my mom or properly treat this book the way it deserves. I walked to one of the tables to open it with a pair of gloves. I was careful not to tear out any of them. Something inside me told me that this book deserved respect and I got up out of the dust pile. Walking over to the desk, I grabbed a set of velvet gloves. Yes, okay fine! It was old and damaged already! But I wasn’t going to damage it any further! I opened the cover and read the first page. “The order of the black rose. This is the code by which a black rose must live by. Comfort for the times when we feel alone in this world. I hope that this manuscript finds its way into each of your hands. A journal of my journey so you won’t feel as alone as I did. Black Rose Isabella” Okay… So, it was Isabella’s journal, but it still didn’t explain much. So, I turned the page. “It all started on the morning of my twelfth birthday when, after my celebrations, my mother called me to one side. She told me that I had been given all my gifts except one. My eyes sparkled at the thought of one more… if only I knew. She told me that I was the only daughter of a black rose, and we needed to start my training the next day. I felt so confused. I wanted to know what a black rose was? She told me she would explain everything the next day. She told me that from that day forward I was not to share anything about the order of the roses with anyone other than her. Of course, I didn’t. All she had told me was that I was now part of some secret society that I couldn’t talk about. I was going to be trained… In what I didn’t know. I didn’t have any skills except for looking pretty, of course. I was beautiful, with my long blond hair and blue eyes. I was hoping to one day get a good husband if I looked after myself. But my mother was blabbering on about some order! I noticed that she was looking at me with anticipation and realize that I hadn’t answered her yet. I confirmed I wouldn’t tell anyone.” Right, so this journal was from quite a while back. It was more like a storybook than anything else. A legend, perhaps. I doubted that order still existed! But it had a bit of a mystery, which intrigued me, so I continued reading. “Standing by my window, I heard a knock at the door, the sun hadn’t set properly yet and it was mother. She had probably come to bid me good night, but she was carrying a set of chains with her. I wanted to know what she was doing. What were the chains for? Mother explained that it was my first shift but that only made me more confused. She explained that it was the full moon, and I was twelve. She also explained that it would be painful, and I would want to tear anyone I found to be in my way, limb from limb, and in the morning the remorse would surely kill me! I was in shock. I didn’t understand, and then I realized what she was saying! WHAT?! I wanted to know if she was sure that I was a werewolf? That she needed to tie me up with those chains? I was convinced she was mistaken! She was not. I was a werewolf born from a werewolf mother. She chained me and then herself before the moon came. I was gawking at my mother and what she had just admitted. I felt as if I was a lamb being led to the s*******r. There were huge steel hooks already on the floor, underneath my bed that I never even noticed. The chains and cuffs were heavy and almost cut into my perfect porcelain coloured skin when she put them on both my wrists and my ankles. I couldn’t believe that all this was necessary! I beg using a more loving nickname, but she just shook her head. She told me that this was just the start. That I would be thanking her in the morning when I saw the damage I did to my room. What is she talking about? Nothing better happen to my room! I looked around me at the white lace with the flower pattern that I had only recently picked out and had made into new bedding and drapes. It was perfect. The perfect lady’s room, soft and elegant. I had a settee in the corner by the window in soft pink velvet. For those days, I didn’t feel like going out and spent my days there reading. I heard the click of a steel bolt and looked over at my mother. Then at the window where the moon was rising.” This part I knew, but for us… or at least my brothers, it was a celebration, nothing like the scandal Isabella made it out to be in her journal. But what did being a black Rose order person have to do with all of this? I kept reading to find out. “The light of the moon slowly crept up into my bedroom window. Mother had always kept my curtains firmly closed, but tonight, she stood there, slightly to the right, slightly in front of me, where the moonlight hit her first. As soon as it touched her soft fingernails, I heard the horrible sound of breaking bones, and she moaned, biting her bottom lip until it bled! Her body contorted in such horrific ways that I had to look away! A tear dripped down my cheek, and I did not see the moonlight just about to touch my fingernails. It was the worst pain I had ever experienced in my entire life. My first shift as a werewolf! Mother explained that my father was in their room shifting and that she was spending my first shift with me. We were wolves. Real life wolves! But that was not all of this ridiculous story! Her real reason for wanting to be with me tonight was that she wanted to share with me her journal as a black rose. She explained how important it is to keep our existence secret from the world outside, which made sense. But when she explained that I had to keep the order secret from everyone, even my father, I felt really guilty. If it was such an honour to be part of this order, why was it such a secret? I wanted to know, but she just told me that she would tell me when the time was right. At first, I had to be trained in all manners of fighting. None of the men would understand, and we had to train under the cover of darkness. It had been a long night, and she explained how to shift back into human form. As soon I finished shifting, I fell to the floor dead tired…” Okay fine. So, I got the basic picture. Being this Black Rose wasn’t easy, and now I knew that you had to be supernatural to become one, but why all the explaining in between! Why not just come to the point? I scanned ahead a couple of months. “Training wasn’t easy. By then I knew that I was training for something serious, but still, mother had not told me what exactly. I was, however, forming the idea that it had something to do with killing and I didn’t like that at all. I even asked her about it one day. Not thinking that my mother would be capable of such a thing, she shut it down, saying that there are bad men in the world and then there are terrible men. After that, she didn’t say another word about it.” I skipped ahead again. By now Isabella was a girl of eighteen. I read about her birthday but skipped ahead when I noticed a different style of wording. “It was a dark night, but the stars were clear. Mother told me after dinner to get dressed in my rose uniform and that we would be going out tonight. She said that I was ready. I had been training for the past six months to do this. I was going to leave a black rose on the bed of Phillipe Martine. Somehow, he always got away with his crimes, and it is time someone taught him the final lesson. We made our way through the town and past the tavern where I knew he would be spending his time for the next half an hour, before returning home, drunk like he did every night. I was nervous because we were cutting our time so close, but his housemaid always opened his bed before he arrived, and we wanted to make sure the black rose was not disturbed before he returned. He had to be the one to find it. I watched her open his bed, pulling at the sheets and covers until they were flat as paper. She then disappeared through a servant’s door in his room. To be on the safe side, I decided to wait a moment longer and my mother tapped me softly on my shoulder. Mere seconds later, she walked back into the room swearing at herself for forgetting to fill the water jug while she was downstairs. Upset that if he were to find her in his room, he might just have his way with her, and she had been lucky so far to avoid that, unlike some of the other girls who all fell for his charms. As soon as she left the room, I heard his bolstering voice coming down the passage and made a run for it, leaving the black rose and note on his bed. The note read: I know what you did. Quickly making our way out of his house and back home, I felt exhilarated when we got back home! My cheeks flushed with excitement! My mother put her hands on my arms. She said that it might have been exciting, but what was to come, would be the hardest part of my life and I would have to live with it. She told me not to forget then how I felt right now. I nodded, remembering the conversation we had earlier that morning in the library. Mother told me that being a black Rose was about fighting for those who could not fight for themselves. It was about righting the wrongs and removing the guilty. You had to warn your target two weeks before his death and if you didn’t see drastic change in him, he had to die by your hand. It was a tradition taught by mother to daughter and only by our bloodline. Nobody could ever know who we were? It was despicable! We were being judge and jury! What gave us the right to decide whether someone lived or died? Then she took me to market with her and showed me his underhandedness and how it was open for the world to see, but nobody noticed, which infuriated me. My mind was made up, and I understood the rules of the order. I pledged my life to the order later that afternoon. I delivered my first rose. Two weeks later, if he didn’t change. I was going to kill him. I had to.” WHAT?!! No, surely this was a mistake. A fake legend or something! I had to find out, and the only person I knew who might know was aunt Meg. If she didn’t tell me anything, I would just ask Grandma. I grabbed the book, waved goodbye at the dust pile, and ran to my room to pack my things before letting my mom know I was going on a trip. I would have to make a quick exit because she hated it when I left without her knowing where I was going, how long I would be gone, and all that.