Page 28 of The Wolf

10.

Queen

Meg paces restlessly around the dimly lit grand sitting room, repeating how crazy this is and glancing nervously at the high, arched windows. I can see the disbelief across her face, illuminated by the aurora pouring in from the outside. Perhaps there’s even regret that she has agreed to come with us past the Veil.

She finally stops, taking a ragged breath before she turns to face me and Clara. Her shoulders tense, and her oversized cardigan slides off one side, exposing her colorful tattoos.

“I don’t think I can do this,” she murmurs, her husky voice barely a whisper, her slender hands trembling.

Clara, who’s been sitting quietly by the fireplace, looks up at Meg and puts her knitting away.

“You really do go all out with the grandmotherly act, don’t you?” Meg snarks.

“Keeps my hands busy when I’d rather be smackin’ sense into someone,” Clara retorts.“That usually ends up bein’ Maddox, the younger of my two sons—the troublemaker.”

As always she has that calming presence, but with a raging fire in her that is a testament to her past. She’s been through her own struggles in this world, which are even more daunting given the time and place she came from.

Patting the spot on the velvet sofa next to her, she gestures for Meg to sit down, smiling softly. “Come here, hun. Let me tell you a story,” she says, her voice rich and melodic, like honey and sunshine wrapped together, carrying a slight Southern lilt that deepens when she’s sharing something personal.

Meg peeks at me, and I give her an encouraging nod. Slowly, she walks over and sinks into the seat beside Clara, pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them like she’s trying to hold herself together.

“I grew up in the Deep South, back in the mid-century,” Clara starts, “in a small, conservative town. Nothin’ like this world we’re in now.” She gestures around the gothic room with a wry smile. “My momma passed when I was real young, so it was just me and my daddy. He was a pastor and raised me strict, by the good book and the rules of our community—to be proper, to be obedient, to walk the straight and narrow. I never questioned him, ‘cause that’s how it was back then. I was pure and naïve, and I didn’t know anythin’ else. Where I came from, women weren’t supposed to have opinions of their own. And if you were Black, it was even worse. I was taught to keep my head down and not make waves, especially with how ugly politics were in the South back then. There were places I couldn’t go, schools I couldn’t attend, and even if I wanted to study and get a higher education, those doors just weren’t open for me. Our world was small, though our dreams were big. But I knew my place—always be a good girl, and marry a man who’d take care of me, just like my daddy wanted.” Her voice catches, and she clears her throat before continuing. “So, when Daddy picked out a husband for me—a man from the congregation, respectable, realGod-fearin’—I didn’t argue. I figured that was just how life was supposed to be. And Samuel was… decent enough, I suppose. I could see myself bein’ his wife, even if my heart longed for somethin’ much more passionate.”

Meg listens to her captivated, her eyes wide with curiosity, and a flicker of empathy breaking through her anxiety. Clara’s story, foreign as it is, somehow strikes a chord.

Clara lets out a small sigh, her eyes growing distant as she slips into her memories. “It was summer 1957 when the day of my weddin’ finally rolled ‘round. I was barely twenty-one, dressed up in white, long veil and all, standin’ there in the church. I thought it would be my salvation, an escape from a life that felt like a cage. And it indeed was, though not at all how I’d envisioned it. Fate had other plans.” She looks at Meg, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “Just as I was ‘bout to walk down that aisle, he came—my daddy’s worst nightmare come to life. But he was there forme. He snatched me right outta my daddy’s church like a storm, right in front of everyone.”

Even though I’ve heard the story before, it never fails to grip me. I lean in closer, my heart racing, palms sweaty. Edwin may be Alex’s younger brother, but he’s no less intense, and even more impulsive, especially when it comes to protecting what’s his. And Clara? She washisthe moment he laid eyes on her, whether she wanted it or not.

Meg’s jaw drops. “Wait, so he justtookyou? Like… kidnapped you?”

Clara nods, laughing softly. “Oh, yes. He carried me right outta there like I was his goddamn prize.”

“Right.” Meg rolls her eyes. “Nothing says romance like a good old-fashioned abduction.”

“I was kickin’ and screamin’ alright!” Clara defends. “I fought him the whole way here, not that it did me much good. He was a monster—I mean, how could he not be? That wild beastof the night had just stolen me. And not only that! He claimed me—marked me as his mate with a bite. It hurt like the devil’s own fire. I thought my life was over. But it wasn’t. It was just… different from what I always imagined.”

Meg shifts, frowning. “That’s concerning.”

“Very much so, I agree.” Clara chuckles dryly, not losing even an ounce of her enthusiasm. “Edwin didn’t give me a choice that day. But the thing with fated mates is, the mark has to be accepted. And I was not havin’ it. Well, at least not at first.”

“At first? I couldneverforgive such a thing! Weren’t you angry? Scared?” Meg shakes her head.

“Oh, Lord, yes,” Clara admits. “I was furious. Terrified. And lost. I spent nights cryin’ myself to sleep, refusin’ to talk to him, to even look at him. I felt like my whole world had been ripped away, and I was trapped in this strange, dark world I didn’t choose. And Edwin… he isn’t exactly the type to take ‘no’ for an answer.”

Meg’s face is shadowed by horror and Clara quickly adds, “He never forced himself on me or anythin’! He was… very persistent, yet patient in his own way, even though he didn’t understand why I was so mad. He thought he’d saved me from a life I didn’t want, and he couldn’t comprehendwhyI had a problem with him takin’ me away.”

I let out a quiet laugh. “Alex was the same way! But I guess he learned something from Edwin’s mistakes.”

“These wolves, I swear!” Clara joins in my laugh.

Meg grows more disturbed. “Alex kidnapped you, too?”

“No,” I respond, still giggling, “he just stalked me until I basically got addicted to his presence through our fated bond.”

“That’s perhaps even worse,” Meg comments, then shifts her attention back to Clara. “What happened then?”

Clara returns to her story. “Slowly, Edwin showed me that he loved me. Not just ‘cause I was his mate—he saw me.Allofme. He didn’t care one bit ‘bout my background or any worldly matters that even people today in modern times still have issues with. It wasn’t easy for me, and it didn’t happen overnight, but eventually… I learned to love him back and to accept his mark. And now, here I am, decades later yet still lookin’ exactly the same, but with a family I couldn’t have dreamed of back then.”

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