Bloodmark (3 page)

Reaching the edge of the cliff, I leaned into the crisp, salty wind, letting it hold me up. I spent most of my time here; I longed for the freedom of it. We were Old Mother Earth’s children, her wolves, and no place settled my wandering mind back to her as did the treacherous cliffs by our home. My emerald satin dress blew in the wind along with the wild hurricane of my curly, red hair. It was liberating, letting the wind and Old Mother cleanse my soul and clear my mind. My body was one with nature.

I closed my eyes and crept closer to the edge, my toes wrapping over. The hem of my dress caught and tore on the sharp rocks, but I didn’t care. I wanted to feel the exhilaration of the wind and the danger. I wanted to feel something other than loneliness. I had been waiting for three weeks for Mund to return; I was bored out of my mind without him. I could smell him on the wind—it was faint, but it was there. He would be home soon. I could feel his anxious mind. I could only imagine he yearned to reunite with Tegan.

In every way, Tegan was viewed as a perfect woman in our culture. She had lovely olive skin, the deepest blue eyes, and the most radiant dark-brown hair that flowed down her back in perfect braids. I often attempted to imitate her elegance, from the delicate way she moved her wrists to the soft sound of her voice, but I was nothing like her. I was more like Mund, rough and opinionated. Maybe I was that way because I spent most of my time with him instead of in the house with Mother and Tegan, learning to be “accomplished.” But I didn’t want to be contained. I wanted to be free to think, to learn, to question, and most of all, to find love—not to be forced into a marriage by my father, a political pawn to be traded at his will.

Mund’s scent was becoming much stronger—it would not be long now. I ran home through the puddles and tall grass, my bare feet meeting the earth to the tempo of my heart. I looked over the hills and saw Mund’s white 1948 Jaguar XK120 still miles away; it was a convertible that made him look like a knight in shining armor. I absorbed anything he had to say, and a lot of it was about his love for classic British cars. I wanted a vintage American muscle car. Even though our culture believed a lady shouldn’t drive, Mund taught me anyway, and I loved the feeling of that steel beast in my control.

As Mund closed the distance to the house, I climbed to the roof of the wooden shack and hid, waiting for my chance to scare him. He was coming home in time for the Beltane celebration, marking the beginning of summer. The nearby village was mostly Christian, but they still honored the old traditions. What they didn’t realize was we lived them; we were the characters of their legends.

I watched as Mund climbed out of his car, carrying brown-paper packages. I pounced from the roof onto his back, but he didn’t miss a step. He swung me over his shoulder with barely any effort and continued on his way to the house.

“Ash, you lack stealth,” he said as he dropped me on my feet.

I couldn’t stop smiling. His dark-brown eyes studied my rough appearance, but not with any sign of disapproval. My dirty, bare feet had tarnished his white shirt. “Sorry,” I mumbled as I dusted him off.

He reached out and messed my hair into a puffy red cloud. “I missed you too,” he smiled as he handed me one of the packages.

The door flew open with a thump, and Tegan ran out and melted into his arms, Mund’s packages falling to the ground. It pained them to be apart. Their souls were bound infinitely to each other—they were true soul mates. I envied their love.

I wasn’t even permitted to talk to a male who wasn’t family. I was “sheltered”—or more appropriately,
caged
. As Mund and Tegan soothed their pains of separation, I went unnoticed collecting the packages strewn at their feet. I left the two lovers outside as I entered our modest cottage and dropped the gifts on the rough-cut wooden table in the center of the room. I stood in front of my mother, and she looked me over—my messed hair, ripped dress, and dirty feet.

She shook her head and smiled. “My dear Ashling, not another torn dress.”

I don’t know why she bothered trying to dress me as a lady when I was clearly a wild animal in a sixteen-year-old girl’s body. Sheepish, I smiled, scrambled up the ladder to the loft, and changed into the one thing I truly enjoyed wearing: raw leather scraps. I’d wrap their smooth texture around my petite frame and create simple outfits. I loved the fact I was using all of what Old Mother offered, from the animals’ flesh we ate to their hides for my clothing. I viewed it as respecting nature and the loss of a life. But really, I liked it because I knew if Father could see me, he would be furious. Mother didn’t approve of it either, but today she was tired of my feisty energy and didn’t protest.

I plopped myself on the bare floor in front of the fire as I carefully unwrapped the gift from Mund. Inside was a classic copy of Jane Austen’s complete works. Mund knew I was currently reading my way through seventeenth- and eighteenth-century classics. If Father knew Mund disobeyed him and let me read, he would be furious. Sometimes he would send someone from the kingdom to spy on us. He didn’t think ladies should read, as it might give us “ideas” and “free will”—just as it had two years earlier when I refused to marry Brychan. The problem with an ancient culture of immortal beings is their inability to embrace change. My kind clung to the past, their fear resisting any change. A lady was to be accomplished in many manners of things but never to have ideas of her own. Women were to be controlled. But I decided I wasn’t.

I settled in to read my new treasure, letting my mind wander wherever this story wanted me to go.

I awoke the next morning on the floor by the nearly burned-out fire. I yawned and stretched and watched Mother, Mund, and Tegan eat raw lamb flesh for breakfast. My stomach growled as the delicious scent filled my nose. I snatched a fresh morsel as I flipped open the book to where I had left off.

“Come, love, we have to go show our support of our humans,” Mother said. Mother employed a few farmers who sold our livestock in the town market. Mund said we had to behave like humans, and being a small part of their culture ensured we would go unnoticed. I wasn’t interested in interacting with the humans.

“I’ll pass,” I said, going back to my reading, but Mother pulled it from my fingers and delicately set it on the table.

“It is our duty to Old Mother,” Mother said.

I groaned.

“Come on, Ash, just follow us around looking sullen, and you will perfectly play the part of a teenage girl,” Mund said laughing. I rolled my eyes and started to follow. “Are you really going to wear that?” he said, gesturing to my leather skirt, top, and boots. I stuck out my tongue.

“Mund, my darling,” Tegan said lightly, pulling him out the door before he could protest farther.

I dragged behind, following Mother, Mund, and Tegan. I never felt a connection to the humans—most of them seemed to avoid us. Even in their eyes I was a freak, and they didn’t know I was a werewolf. I didn’t belong in the human world, and I wasn’t even accepted in my own pack. Without the Boru Bloodmark, I was alienated. Still, I never felt alone. Mother and Mund were my family, and that bond could never be broken—Bloodmark or no Bloodmark.

“Mund, would you purchase some lamb today? It will do nicely to support the neighbors,” Mother said. “And Tegan, do you think we could use some more potatoes?”

Tegan’s beautiful face flinched for a brief moment before returning to perfection. “We still have to throw away the last bag we purchased.”

We didn’t eat human food—we could, we just didn’t like to. It was bland, and the cooked meats were rancid to our tongues. Fresh animal flesh was always preferred, and we never spent time with the humans without eating first. Human blood smelled all the sweeter to us—a temptation we had to learn to overcome. Sometimes I wondered if it was all part of Old Mother’s plan, the temptation was part of the lesson, to love and protect something that you desired so desperately to possess.

“Well, let’s buy some potatoes anyway,” Mother said. “We have to keep up appearances.”

Both Mother and Tegan always wore satin gowns, far overdressed for our tiny community of farmers. Not that my leather scraps were any more suitable. Dunmanas Bay wasn’t exactly the fashion capital of the world. For the most part, we stayed out of the day-to-day dealings with the humans, just keeping a watchful eye on them and protecting them from harm. Of all the humans, I preferred watching over the children. My soul connected with their open hearts, and I felt my higher purpose when I was with them. I was quite certain a few of them actually knew what we were. The adults were ignorant to us but still subtly fearful of our differences. We walked on the dirt road into town, and I watched Tegan and Mund holding hands as they interacted with the townspeople. Gracious and giving to all of humankind.

I slipped away down another path toward the fountain. I suppose it was selfish of me, but I didn’t want to be there. I yearned for my life to begin, yet I still dreaded a marriage to Brychan. With that as my future, what life was left for me? A little boy with curly black hair and bright blue eyes smiled at me as I passed. I smiled back, and he giggled and trotted after his mother. I recognized him; he was the O’Learys’ son. He always put a smile on my face. I sat on the edge of the stone fountain, watching the birds dance as I stared up at the dark clouds that rolled overhead. A storm was coming. Suddenly, I smelled something on the cool wind—a werewolf.

My eyes flashed open as I searched for the source. A strange man dressed in a vintage brocade suit coat leaned against one of the buildings about twenty-five feet away. It was as though he had fallen through time. His green eyes glowed even in broad daylight. I was curious to get a better look at him. Other wolves weren’t allowed in this territory. His beard was trimmed close to his tanned skin. He appeared to be in his late twenties with long black hair and a hard jaw, but something about him seemed much older.

As I walked closer, his eyes lit up with interest. I was intrigued by him. I wanted to know more about him, where he came from. Most wolves still didn’t travel great distances alone, but where was his pack? He was so fixated on me that he didn’t even blink. My skin prickled, making me feel uneasy.

I heard my name in the distance and turned as Mund ran over, carrying a shank of lamb. When I looked back, the stranger turned and disappeared behind one of the buildings.

“What are you doing wandering alone?” he said.

“There was a wolf, just there.” I pointed. His eyebrows went up, which was the expression Mund used when he thought I was making up wild stories. “No, I saw him and he saw me!”

“Ashling, other werewolves aren’t allowed in this territory.” Mund smiled as he wrapped his free arm around my shoulders and steered me toward home. Sometimes he made me feel so foolish, but I knew what I saw.

“I know,” I said, “but he was there. He was tall with long black hair and glowing green eyes.”

The sun had begun to set as we walked on the worn dirt road toward Mother’s cottage. Mund came to a stop facing me in the near darkness, but I could see him clearly. “Are you certain?”

“Yes. He wore a black brocade jacket.”

His face went pale, and I could feel his fear. Mund quickly grabbed his phone and showed it to me. “Was it this man?” he asked with bitterness in his voice. I could almost taste his anger.

As I looked closely at the image, I saw the same intense green eyes. “Yes, that’s him.”

The lamb fell to the ground. Before I could even question, Mund dragged me home to Mother’s cottage.

“They found us,” he said.

“Who found us?” I asked.

Mother grabbed the old wooden lockbox from above the mantle and wrapped a red hooded cloak around my shoulders. “It’s time to go,” she said. I followed them outside to a tarp-covered SUV in the shed. Mund never drove it; it always just sat there collecting dust. He yanked the tarp off, sending the dust fluttering into the air.

“Tegan, Mother, after you,” Mund said. “Careful, my love.” He gently helped Tegan as Mother and I slid in the backseat.

“What about all our stuff?” I asked as I turned to see our travel trunks in the back, and then I knew. We didn’t intend to return. Mund had us packed and ready to flee at any moment. He had prepared for this day. “What’s going on?” I begged, breathing in their anxiety.

“The man you saw is of the Dvergar pack, the Boru and Vanirs’ oldest enemy,” said Mund as he stepped into the driver’s seat and started the engine. “He is Adomnan Dvergar, the eldest son of Crob. They are treacherous murderers who have forsaken their vows to Old Mother. They have been searching for you for years, and they have every intent of taking you from us at any cost.”

My throat was dry. I couldn’t fathom what I had to do with any of them.

“We are going to your father—he’ll know what to do and he will keep you safe,” Mother said. I didn’t feel any comfort in her words. How could I possibly trust my father after everything he’d done? I could feel Mother’s fear, it mirrored my own, but Mund was filled only with anger. He reached across and placed his strong hand on Tegan’s as she cradled her pregnant stomach. The darkness consumed the car as we left the only home I had ever known.

We sped through the night to the Rock with the full moon lighting our way. We traveled the road through the Galty Mountains, and my memories started flooding through me, filling me with dread. The Rock wasn’t a beacon of safety for me, and Father wasn’t my savior. He would probably demand I marry Brychan immediately. Every unfamiliar shadow seemed to mock me as we grew closer to Cashel.

“Why are the Dvergars our enemy?” I asked.

“In the eleventh century, Adomnan Dvergar’s grandfather, King Uaid, murdered my sister Calista Vanir at Carrowmore on her wedding day,” Mother said. “He had wanted to possess Calista’s power as a seer, and he took her last breath when she refused to share her gift. He broke his vows to Old Mother to protect life, severing him from the packs.”

Mother’s breath caught in her throat, the memory was still raw almost one thousand years later. Tegan reached back and squeezed Mother’s hand. The horrible truth of our history loomed over me, sending chills down my spine.