Page 26 of The Wolf Moon

My mind cleared only when I climbed through the same window I had escaped from. As soon as I straightened myself, the room to the door opened and I was caught in the act of my return. I stood with my lips parted in surprise as Roman stood at the threshold of the door with a look of mild astonishment on his own features. His eyes followed the cuff dangling on my wrist to the bed where I had managed to break through it. The dots were easy to connect.

“You were not to go outside,” He said in warning, frustration in his tone.

“I just…” I looked down at myself for a moment. My clothes were soaked through from my activities with Cynthia. It was damning. “… I went for a swim.”

“A swim,” Roman repeated, stepping towards me intimidatingly. “Do you think I’ve forgotten about you being a so-called oracle?” It was like he could see right through me. I frowned and narrowed my eyes as I inspected him.

“Did you seek their guidance?” He asked me abruptly, his question laced with deep-seated anger. “Did they give you their oh-so-special visions? What omniscient advice have they bestowed upon you?”

I didn’t respond. He was mocking me. Or maybe he was just mocking the Goddesses. Either way, it was a dangerous line of questioning and the way in which he shot them at me suggested he wasn’t interested in the actual answers. I began to shiver as the cold wind flowed into the room from the window behind me, teasing at my wet skin mercilessly.

Roman stepped even closer, his anger only rising.

“I have my guesses. They want you to trap me; to pin my limbs with the strongest of steel and to lock me away. They want me buried far from the surface of this Earth. A coffin fit for one who will never find Death,” He growled lowly, taking another step towards me. I expected to feel fear as he approached me, but I only trembled from the cold. I was confused by his guess.

“That’s…” I hesitated. It was an awful thought, that’s what it was.

“Why not? It’s what they demanded of their oracles in the past,” He admitted, seething from the memory. “Or do they have something else planned? I’m sure they know what I intend to do to the humans. Are they afraid, Milena? Did they plead to you for their help? How kind of them to fear for the humans and yet to condemn the wolves.”

“What do you plan to do to the humans?” I asked, my heart beginning to race in my chest at his words.

“You won’t be here, so it doesn’t concern you,” He responded sharply. I glared at him, my anger beginning to rise above my hesitation. In the visions, I saw the younger version of Roman; happy and carefree. But that Roman was long gone. I couldn’t even recognize him in the man standing before me.

“I have a question for you,” I said angrily, my emotions taking over my rationality, “Do the wolves follow you because they want to? Or is it because you are blessed by the Maiden?”

Roman froze before me, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

“And what do you mean by that?” He asked warningly. I could have backtracked immediately, but instead I did what I do best.

“She gave you the ability to control the wolves, something she hasn’t gifted to anyone else until me. You told me they took away their blessings; the Mother wouldn’t give you a Mate and the Crone wouldn’t take your life. But you’re a liar. You can still control the wolves because you have the Maiden’s blessing. And you, you hypocrite, I bet you still use it to this day,” My voice rose against my better judgment.

Roman growled furiously, closing the distance between us rapidly. I gasped, trying to step back but finding no space to do so. I closed my eyes, wincing at what I knew would probably be a painful attack. When nothing followed, I opened my eyes to glare at him.

“That isn’t her blessing,” Roman told me firmly, surprising me. He turned away before adding, “Birth; that’s her blessing. The Maiden took away our ability to exist. In a few decades, I will be alone. So you can go tell your Goddesses to fuck themselves.”

He stormed from the room without another word, leaving me free to do what I wish.

~…~

Roman decided to ignore me from that point on. I thought that it would be the best thing to happen to me for a long time, but I found myself drawn to him in a way that made me feel as though I were just as imprisoned as before. If I had the option, I probably would have cuffed myself to the bed just as he had done. But now, the cuff was removed and yet I still remained. It was strange.

Besides, the plan to mark him before the full moon was becoming an obvious failure. I considered running back to Cynthia, but Roman’s words had painted something dark on my own soul. If he was telling the truth, it meant the Goddesses were indeed as cruel as he made them out to be. And if I thought about it, I could recall that empty school and the lack of children around. He had to be telling the truth.

It was one thing to curse the King Alpha, but to curse the entire race of the lycanthropes? Why would they take their anger out on every wolf? Was it because they had turned away from their Goddesses? Or did the wolves turn away because they lost their blessings first?

I was too confused. The fate of the wolves wasn’t supposed to be my concern, but Roman had clearly indicated that he had something planned for the humans as well. I didn’t want my family to be doomed to whatever horror he had stored for them, but I also couldn’t see how things could work out.

I lied curled on one side of the bed, staring at Roman’s form on the other side. He was on his back, his eyes closed. I inspected him quietly, frowning as I stared at him. Why didn’t the Goddesses just strike him down, if they were so concerned? Why go through the trouble of making him immortal, of punishing him, and sending me to him if they just wanted him to be stopped? Why curse anyone at all? It was frustrating.

“I can feel you staring at me,” Roman abruptly stated, his eyes remaining closed. I nearly jumped, surprised that he said anything to me at all. But then I took his sudden acknowledgement of me as an opportunity and immediately said the first thing on my mind.

“How did you get that scar?” I asked.

Roman opened his eyes slowly, turning his face towards me. It was an absurd question. He had many scars and I hadn’t been specific.

“Which one?” He asked carefully.

I absently reached for him, tracing my fingers over a particular set of claw-like scars over his face. He closed his eyes momentarily in reaction, his jaw clenching under my touch. I moved my hand away, surprised I had even dared to touch him.

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