Wolf at Her Door: BBW Paranormal Romance (7 page)

"What happened?" I asked. "What did you do?"

"I don't even remember the words," she said, turning to face me. "All I know is because of what I said, Clan MacCulloch can never die. But not only that, those who find love among the other clans are destined for strife. They will never have the love they desire."

"I don't understand," I said. "What do you mean? Bran can never die?"

"Oh, he can be killed. That's for certain," she said as she stroked a thick scar across her neck with her finger. "But he will never die of old age. He will never age.

"I cursed Niall so he wouldn't be with her, but when I did it, I cursed the rest of his line. When a MacCulloch finds his mate in another clan, they will be torn apart."

She was quiet for a moment as she stared back into the fire.

"Niall sent me to the Otherworld where I have spent many lifetimes waiting for him to realize his mistake, but he never came back for me. He spent his life looking for my sister and when he found out she died, he killed himself. I never realized how much he truly loved her. I was too young and jealous to recognize true love when it was right in front of me. It just wasn't mine.

"That's what happened to you and Bran," she said. "When you overheard him, he had just learned about his immortality and he saw it for the curse it is. Realizing you would age and die before him was enough for him to declare he didn't want that for anyone else, including his children."

Bran's words finally made sense. I stood up and walked to the door.

"I have to get back to him," I said. "I have to tell him I'm having his child and explain what happened."

"No, you can't. If you care for that child inside you, you won't go back to Bran."

"Why not?"

"Because my tears are not for Niall, they are for that babe inside of you," she said.

"He will die?"

"If you return, his death is certain. Your child will grow like other children. He will be susceptible to injuries and illness, even death. Once he reaches adulthood he will be immortal, but until then he is in danger."

"But Bran will protect him," I said.

"Bran has left. He believes you are dead and cannot stand to stay in the village that reminds him so much of you."

"But I'm not dead. I have to stop him. I have to tell him I'm okay and he's going to be a father."

"No, you can't," she said. "The trip to the Otherworld took you two weeks to make. It'll take another fortnight for you to return. He could be anywhere by then."

Two weeks?
I thought.
Where did the time go? And what about Bran? I have to find him. He needed to know I was okay.

"You can't find him?" I asked.

"I cannot find those who choose to be lost."

I didn't want to hear any more. I left the cottage for the some fresh air. As I stood outside, I looked around again and realized there was nothing else around us. I was in the Otherworld. The banshee probably made it look like Scotland, just like she was able to change her own appearance.

I walked into the heather and ran my fingers over the soft purple tips. I was trapped. If I returned to my village, it would disgrace my father. A daughter of Clan Drummond was impregnated by their foe, who was missing. I couldn't do that to my father.

More importantly, I couldn't push the banshee's cries out of my head. I left Bran to protect my child. If I really wanted to protect him, then I needed to stay in the Otherworld.

The banshee appeared as an old woman again and walked into the field of heather. She was once again dressed in a long flowing white robe. In her hand was a ball of red yarn.

"We can return whenever you're ready," she said.

"No, I'm going to stay here. I'll have my baby here and make a life for him until he's old enough to safely leave."

The banshee smiled and became young again.

"I'm so happy to hear that," she said. "You'll see your Bran again one day, Ainsley. I know it, I've seen it. You have lifetimes before you, but remember wherever you go, make sure you move before others grow suspicious."

"Lifetimes? You must be mistaken. I'm not from Clan MacCulloch."

"But that child inside you is, and he needs you. As he grows, you will change, too. You won't be immortal, but you will age much more slowly. And trust me, that is to your benefit. You'll spend centuries waiting for Bran, unaware of how close you two really are to each other."

I didn't care about how long I would live as long as one day Bran and I were together again. I was willing to wait however long that took.

Chapter Eleven

Ainsley

Present Day

I smiled at Bran and the rest of our company. Pinky and Rafael were entranced by my story. Their eyes never left me. Bran's shoulders were weighed down and sadness covered his face. He looked down at the table, deep in thought, before looking up at Callen.

"You were raised by your mother and a banshee?" he asked. "How does a boy become a man without a man's guidance?"

"How dare you, Bran MacCulloch!" I said indignantly as I stood from my seat. "I was a better hunter than you, and I was always faster, too. My father taught me all the things a man needed to know. I did what I had to do to protect him and us."

I couldn't believe that after all these years, Bran still had his Old World thoughts. I wanted to strangle him, but I knew his chauvinistic attitude was just his grasp on the past.

"I'm more of a man than you could ever understand," Callen said. "Yes, I was taught how to hunt and how to be a wolf by a woman, but I wouldn't have it any other way. It is because of her that I also know how to love, how to be gentle and kind, and when to shut up and listen."

"I'm sorry," Bran said. "I said the wrong thing. I'm angry that I wasn't there to see you grow, to help teach you things a father teaches his son. You're right, my thinking is archaic. I come from a time when men and women had their place, whether it was right or not. I've spent my life wandering and alone, a nomad. I never settled in one place. To think all these years the two of you were out there. I had a family I didn't even know about. It upsets me. Callen is a lucky boy to have such a strong mother. I mean that wholeheartedly. I didn't mean any disrespect."

I came up behind Bran and set my hands on his shoulders. He tilted his head to the side, onto my arm, and I brushed his hair back from his head. It hurt to see so much sadness in him.

"I wish we could have been a family," I said. "I really do, but Gracelin was right about the curse. And as I've seen, things really could have been worse."

"How?" Bran asked, turning to look at me. "We've lost so much time together, how could there be anything worse than that?"

I turned away and walked to the other side of the room. Folding my arms in front of me, I thought about his question. I knew the answer, but it wasn't my story to tell.

"Go ahead," Callen said. "Tell them about me."

Searching Callen's eyes, the one trait he got from me, I saw that he was serious.

"Alright, but a small part," I said. "It's your story to tell whenever you want to. But I'm proud of you and I love you, Callen. One of my happiest and proudest days was the day of your hand-fasting such a long time ago.

"Our life with Gracelin flew by. We didn't always stay in the Otherworld. At times, we traveled to Scotland or other places in Europe. It was a life I never thought I would ever experience. Living with the banshee was probably the best education Callen could ever have.

"Eventually though, I decided it was time to move on. We needed to be around other people. Callen needed a life of his own. With everything going on in the world, we decided to head to the New World. Specifically, we went to Salem, Massachusetts."

Chapter Twelve

Ainsley

Late 1600s, Salem, Massachusetts
 

It had been a long time since I had to interact with people. I couldn't believe how quickly a hundred years had gone by with Gracelin in the Otherworld, and it made me feel bad that I had kept Callen from having a life and the possibility of a family of his own.

It was autumn in Salem and the trees were changing colors from their dark green to reds and golds. Callen and I lived in a house owned by friends of Gracelin. She was never mentioned and I didn't know if our benefactors were human, but I didn't question it. I was simply grateful for a place where we could stay.

Since we looked so close in age, Callen and I pretended to be brother and sister. I didn't mind playing the spinster. The only man I wanted was lost to me.

Callen and I would shift into wolves at night and go for runs. We had lived in Salem for several months and were happy. Many young women were interested in Callen, but he didn't think any of them were special. We didn't know how long we would stay, but I always remembered Gracelin's advice to move before anyone became suspicious of our not aging.

One night as we ran under the full moon, we raced to see who could reach the town line the fastest. Being the smaller wolf, I was faster, and racing with my son always brought back memories of running with Bran. I was lost in my memories when I realized I was alone.

As I traced my way back to Callen, I found him standing near a church. He had shifted back to his human form and was staring into the distance. It was late, but I didn't want to draw any attention to ourselves. Salem was filled with gossips. Moving into the shadows, I shifted to my human form.

"Callen," I whispered, "what's going on? Why did you stop?"

"There's something nearby," he said. "I can't explain it, but I can feel it calling to me, beckoning me. It's something in the air."

He turned, and his eyes fixed onto something in the distance. I followed his gaze to a young woman with coppery red hair. She wore a black cape and was seated near a gravestone. It looked like she was talking to someone, but no one was there.

I had grown up hearing many superstitions and myths, but when I saw this girl, I knew she was only talking to the memory of whoever passed away. My shifter self didn't sense anything special about her. She was nothing more than human. Except to Callen.

"Have you ever seen such a beautiful creature, Mother?" he asked.

"Shh! Callen, please. Let's change back and get back to the house. This isn't the place to be walking around naked!" I said.

"Mother, my heart is pounding in my chest. I feel like everything I've ever done has led to this moment of seeing her. I have to go over there now and–"

"Callen MacCulloch!" I hissed. "You'll do nothing of the sort. Listen to me, I know how you're feeling. I felt exactly the same way before when I first saw your father. We can hide here as wolves and no one will see us. Then we can follow her home. Tomorrow, you can go over as a respectable young man, not some naked shifter, and you can ask her father for permission to speak to her. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mother. I don't know what I was thinking. I wasn't thinking, to be honest. I don't want to get us into trouble. You're right, I can wait until tomorrow, and then one day I'll make her my bride."

***

Heather Mather was speaking to her parents that day in the cemetery. She had been orphaned at a young age and was raised by her elderly aunt. She was a kind young woman and I grew fond of her.
 

It had been six months since Callen first spotted Heather at the cemetery, and they spent as much time together as possible. As his "sister", I played chaperone for those matronly women who looked down on Heather's wild ways. I didn't like how they spoke about her, and I could only imagine what they would have said about me when Bran and I were meeting in secret.

I was tending to the vegetable garden one day when I looked up to see Heather and Callen holding hands as they walked towards me. They could barely tear their eyes away from each other and while I was mostly happy for them, it also reminded me of what I missed with Bran.

"Mother," Callen said, surprising me.

"Excuse me?" I said.

"I've told Heather everything. I even showed her the wolf."

My eyes widened. Callen had a habit for telling me everything, but he kept this from me. I knew it was because he thought I would convince him not to. I wasn't upset though, I knew how hard it was to keep a secret from the one you loved.