Alpha Moon (5 page)

Past Daciana’s shoulder, Ulric saw movement. His legs solidified.

Nay, it cannot be
, he thought.

“Daciana, my dear, when I tell ye to run, pick up thy skirts and move as the wind,” Ulric articulated slowly. “Do not look back. Do not stop. And do
not
make me seem as much of a fool after the townsmen find my body.”

Fearful, Daciana stood in place, unsure of what Ulric spoke. All she knew was he made no sense, and his facial features warped into pure panic. There was a sinister feeling slithering its way across the nape of her neck, where all the tiny hairs stood on end. She had experienced that extra sense once before: the night she saw the wolf.

“’Tis here, is it not?” she asked, ensnaring Ulric’s frightened eyes. “The wolf, I mean.”

Ulric’s eyebrows knotted in confusion. “Ye have seen it?”

“Aye,” she breathed out quickly. “On my way here.”

Without second-guessing himself, Ulric clasped Daciana’s hand inside his own and bolted for her residence.

“Pick up thy skirts!” he yelled over his shoulder. “Do not stop, Daciana!” Sneaking a glance in the wolf’s direction, he noticed ’twas catching up. The faster they ran, the closer the wolf became, until ’twas finally upon them, nearly nipping and clawing at their heels. Fleetingly, Ulric pondered how they would be rid of the situation, but he could find no outlet. They were doomed from the start.

Daciana screeched as she tripped again, but Ulric never loosened his grasp on her hand. His lungs ached, and his sides burned as if they were aflame. The Lowell’s new homestead was not far in front of them, and if they could last just a few minutes more, they could safely barge through the entrance.

“Come, Daciana, ’tis ahead,” Ulric shouted. He felt the pull of Daciana’s arm as she slackened her pace, and he tried all the more to tug her along to safety.

They flew up the front steps, barreled through the entryway, and slammed the door behind them. A loud
thump
reverberated on the other side. Ulric and Daciana wedged a long block of lumber in the wooden hook across the door to prevent the creature from gaining access. They stiffened when the bangs and thuds halted. The wolf howled, and its sickening cry chilled them to the bone.

Heavily breathing, Ulric let his head fall back. He returned it to a normal position several seconds later and asked, “How did ye know?”

Daciana, equally out of breath as him, stole a moment longer to regain her composure. She clutched her stomach and backed herself against the wall, gracefully sliding down until she was seated. “I-I could feel it. Mayhap it followed me here. I do not know for certain, but I think it wants something from me.”

“And here I believed ’twas only after me.” Ulric paced a two-foot span. “What could it possibly want from us?”

Fatigued, Daciana unhurriedly glanced up at him. “I know not, and I do not wish to find out.”

“I must go,” said Ulric. “I have to warn my brother.”

“No, please!” Daciana reached out to him. “Do not leave me here alone, not with that monster on the loose.”

Ulric fought an inner battle. The correct thing to do would be to warn the townsfolk the wolf was at large and could attack anybody in passing, but once glimpse of Daciana’s frightened face, the tears pooling in her eyes, and Ulric’s gut convinced him to stay.

“All right, then,” he said. “I shall stay until dusk, to ensure ye are safe.”

“Gratitude,” said Daciana, as she closed her eyes and exhaled a shaky breath.

Ulric sat down beside her, hooking one arm around her shoulders and pulling her to his chest. Ten minutes ago, she practically banished him to Hell for all eternity. Now they sat in silence, listening to each other’s breaths become fainter and fainter.

Chapter Eight

A
laric cursed; ’twas not normal for his brother to cause a scene in the center of town, let alone with another woman. Of all people, that woman happened to be Daciana. ’Twas Ulric’s luck to catch Daciana outside Murdock’s after the conversation he and Alaric had moments earlier. Alaric hoped his brother at least had the decency to apologize and accompany her home; otherwise, he would only damage his reputation further.

Annoyed with the idea of Ulric gaining the lead in their clandestine rivalry, Alaric stalked down the road, unsure of his destination. Only when he passed a beautiful, dark-haired woman was he able to push aside his frustration and see more clearly. ’Twas Lavenia, a former lover of Alaric’s, one he had not seen in a very long time.

“Pardon me, but”—he stopped her—“how do ye fare?” She cocked one eyebrow, so Alaric persisted. “’Tis only reasonable if ye do not wish to speak with me after the manner in which I treated ye. I was younger and dim-witted—”

“Enough,” she interrupted, holding up one hand. “I have naught to say to ye.” With that, she continued down the lane.

Alaric caught up and blocked her path. “Not a day goes by that my actions do not consume my very being.”

Lavenia leaned in toward Alaric. “Liar,” she whispered.

“Let me compensate for my sordid actions,” he said.

Lavenia did not want to pay him any attention, nor did she expect him to pay any to her, but what if his feelings were true? What if they could reawaken what they once had? She would rather take a chance on love and heartbreak than completely shut out every man who showed interest. Her nagging conscience told her to disregard him.

“Supper. Tonight,” she said finally, and began strutting toward the center of town, where she would pick up a few items.

Alaric grinned and called out, “Until then!”

Around dusk, Alaric arrived at Lavenia’s cottage on the edge of town; ’twas adorned with both fresh and dried herbs hanging from the rafters, a few lit candlesticks, and the unmistakable smell of a piquant, aromatic plant. Alaric had no notion of what this flora might be, but he knew that with Lavenia’s strong knowledge of vegetation, it could very well be anything. She was, after all, the town’s herb witch.

Lavenia appeared from a back room. “Ah, I see ye have made it after all.”

Alaric stood awkwardly by the front door, arms crossed. “And I see thy home still reeks of the outside.”

“Some things do not change,” she replied.

“Aye, but some things do.” He trapped her gaze with his.

She shook off the tension between them and wandered to the hearth, carefully removing the lid from the large pot, which boiled with rabbit stew, potatoes, and rosemary, and stirred the concoction she created at the last minute. As soon as the covering was taken away, the pungent brew invaded Alaric and Lavenia’s nostrils. Both of their stomachs growled.

“Have a seat,” said Lavenia. “It should not be much longer until the soup is ready.”

Alaric sat at the small wooden table, where four seats were vacant. He placed himself at the head of one end. “I would be lying if I did not say this reminded me of yesteryear, all those moments we shared together in this cottage.”

Lavenia flushed at the thought of them together long ago, with entangled limbs and feathery kisses. Of secrets spoken in the early hours of morning, and of promises which were never kept. Her heart ached at the memories.

She replaced the lid on the pot and turned to Alaric, smiling. “Aye, those were good times, but I am afraid they are forever lost.”

“Mayhap not,” he added smoothly. “Mayhap they can be . . . rekindled.”

“Do not take me for a fool as I once was,” said Lavenia. “I was younger and more vulnerable with my heart, but no longer.” She searched for a way to keep her mind busy, so she would not reflect on the romance they shared under that roof. How stupid she was to invite him for supper! She should have known this would happen.

Lavenia grabbed two wooden bowls from a shelf nearby and began scooping out the rabbit stew. Carefully, she placed one bowl in front of Alaric and one at the opposite end. Alaric picked up a wooden spoon on the table and tried the first bite.

“’Tis wonderful,” he stated.

“Gratitude,” Lavenia said.

“Pray tell me,” Alaric began, as he cleared his throat, “how have ye kept busy all this time?”

Lavenia swallowed a spoonful of stew before she said, “I continue to produce medicines and remedies for those in need of them, and I earn compensation by selling them as commodities. ’Tis quite simple.”

A child’s cries rang out in one of the back rooms, interrupting Alaric and Lavenia’s conversation. Lavenia did not dare glance at Alaric, for she knew if she did, she would give her secret away.

“A child?” he questioned.

“One of my apprentices’,” she lied, gaining enough courage to face him.

He captured her eyes and held them longer than necessary. “I had not known.”

“Nay, we have kept it a secret. She was afraid of being spurned.”

Alaric nodded. “And what of the father?”

“He does not know. We would like to keep it that way, if possible.”

Though reticent at first, Alaric ultimately gave in. “Her secret is safe with me.”

Lavenia felt the intense strain leave her body at once. “Gratitude.”

Throughout the remainder of the evening, Alaric and Lavenia strayed from conversation of their personal past, and, instead, focused on their daily lives. Alaric spoke of his father and Ulric, of harvesting the summertime crops, and Lavenia spoke of the concoctions she made for the townsfolk, what the ingredients were, and who required her wares. To both, it felt as if they were long-lost friends who required companionship they so desperately forgot they once shared.

After their bellies were full, and the sun had long since departed the sky, Alaric and Lavenia sipped warm apple cider and spoke of the rebellion in the north. Alaric expressed his concern for the throne, and how he thought about joining the rebel forces. Eventually, he thought better of his plan, especially if he had to leave his father and Ulric behind to tend the fields. He knew Ulric could not handle the workload alone. Lavenia steered the conversation toward her latest thoughts: the rebellion, the townsfolk of Colchester, and what life might be like if she were to ever leave and start anew.

“Ye would leave here?” Alaric asked. “Just pack thy belongings and begin a life elsewhere?”

“Aye,” Lavenia responded. “I would.”

“Is it because ye have yet to find a husband?”

Lavenia nearly showered the table with apple cider. Alaric had been too audacious. Yet . . . she could not help but wonder if a part of her, deep down, thought the same as he.

“Mayhap,” she said quickly. “I do not know for certain, though.”

“Well, I could remedy that.” He leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, and his eyes danced in the firelight.

For a brief moment, Lavenia contemplated allowing him access to her emotions once again, but she was suddenly overcome with raw feelings of their past, of how much she truly hurt inside, and she knew she could not move forward with Alaric. Not in this lifetime, and possibly not in the next. She endured enough pain to last for several existences.

“I do not think that is wise,” she told him. “And I think ’tis time ye departed for the evening. ’Tis late.”

Alaric stood from the table. “Of course, dearest. Although, I do hope we can have supper again soon. I must say, I rather enjoyed this little gathering.” He smiled mischievously, and Lavenia’s heart sped up. She knew she could not battle these feelings for long, for if she tried, she would fail.

Chapter Nine

T
he past several days had been chaotic for Ulric and Daciana. They continually watched their backs in case the wolf decided to show its face yet again, and nobody in their families believed the creature was only after them. How could a creature of the forest single them out? More importantly, why? Ulric and Daciana had no answers, but they were well aware that, eventually, they would find out.

A spark of trust ignited between the two of them, which was the sole noble purpose to come out of their experience. Ulric and Daciana learned more and more about each other every day, and they could not be easily separated. Ulric made certain Daciana did not walk to and from town alone, and he also made sure her family, as well as his, was looked after.

“I will try to convince my brother once more,” Ulric explained as he and Daciana were returning to the Lowell residence, “though he is not so effortlessly swayed.”

Daciana slid her arm into the curve of Ulric’s. “And I shall continue pressing my parents. I am afraid they will not believe my words, however true they may be.” Nervously, she glanced toward the edge of the woods, where only days prior she and Ulric encountered the wolf. Naught but trees and undergrowth were in attendance this time.

Ulric glanced upward and squinted at the sun’s intense radiance. ’Twas mealtime, and his stomach growled. Daciana heard.

“Eat with me,” she said.

Ulric shook his head. “I have chores to do at home. I must return.”

“Please,” she begged, tugging on his arm. “Thou dost not need to tarry.”