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The Girl Cried Wolf 34 Mother

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The dark-haired woman hovered over the young girl lying asleep on the bed. She smoothed the girl's hair away from her forehead and whispered soothing words into the girl's ear. She felt the girl's pulse and patted her hand. The girl was going to be fine, but a mother's worry knew no end, even for children who were not her own.

After Ash had pa.s.sed out in her chair in the dining room, Hunter had carried her out to the guesthouse. Lavinia quickly followed behind her son. When Ash didn't wake after ten minutes, she bade her son to go see his father and promised that she would watch his guest.

Hunter had left reluctantly, squeezing the sleeping girl's hand before leaving. The girl had given no reaction.

Lavinia looked closely at his son's "girlfriend."

Ash was a blossoming young woman. She had the healthy glow of youth with glossy black hair and smooth skin. She was lean and her limbs had no hard muscles. Her hands were soft and showed no calluses. She had no visible scars. She looked like an ordinary young woman. And yet underneath all this soft human skin flowed the blood of a wild beast.

She laid her palm over Ash's forehead, feeling her temperature yet again. The girl had no fever and she seemed to be breathing normally.

It was uncanny how similar this girl was to her. She had dark hair and dark brown eyes, just like she did. The color of their skin was nearly a match, they had a similarly warm undertone, though hers ran more olive whereas Ash's was yellow.

They looked so unlike her pale son and his equally pale father. While her son did inherit some of her features, they only showed in outlines: the shape of the face, the angle of the jaw, and the cut of the cheek bones. His color---from his skin, to his hair, and his eyes were all from his father. At a glance, the girl doubtless looked more like her daughter than her own son did.

"You look far too much like a lamb than you do a wolf, my girl," Lavinia whispered to the sleeping Ash.

The young girl began to stir. Lavinia leaned closer to her and clasped both of her hands around Ash's hand. The silver werewolf charm hanging from Ash's bracelet dangled in the air between them, glinting softly under the warm bedroom lights.

***

Silverio sat back in his lounge chair, looking at his son who was standing by the window. Silverio's study overlooked the guesthouse and Hunter had been staring out the window hoping to see his mother step out from there, waving to him that all was well.

Silverio swirled the whiskey around in his gla.s.s. He had managed to ask only one question of Hunter before he lost the boy's attention altogether. Clearly, his son was enamored with the new wolf girl.

"The first girl you bring to this house, and she pa.s.ses out at the dinner table even before she has touched your mother's food," Silverio said.

Hunter looked away from the window and turned toward his father.


"I will be sure to tell my grandchildren of how I met their mother," Silverio finished with a good-natured smile.

Hunter cracked a reluctant smile. He bristled at the sound of his father mentioning "grandchildren" but it wasn't something he was offended by. He was more concerned of how easily his father had read his intentions.

Silverio gestured for his son to sit in the chair that was next to him.

"And so, whose family is she from? Which wolf pack will I have to make an alliance with so that they part with their precious daughter?" In his mind, Silverio was already tallying his a.s.sets, readying himself to bargain with another family for his son's happiness. His own father had paid an impressive dowry to his in-laws, essentially buying him his wife who had already been betrothed to another at the time. He hoped he would be up to the task and do for his own son what his father had done for him.

He handed his son a shot of whiskey. Hard talk called for hard liquor. He hoped that by the end of it, they would have something to celebrate.

"She's a scholar, Papa," Hunter answered.

A scholar? A scholar at Saint Blaise's only meant that the girl was poor. This was good; her family would surely be happy to have her married off to a rich family. Silverio felt relieved, surely the girl's family would not drive a hard bargain. He would pay for the wedding and furnish the family with a house, it was easily settled.

"Oh? Well, that's good!" Silverio said, feigning interest. "It's so fortunate that you were able to meet her at the school. How very rare!"

"She's an orphan." Hunter took a sip of whiskey and made a face. The liquid seemed to burn his throat as it went down.

An orphan? He would need to have her background checked. Perhaps her parents were murdered for being werewolves and the orphan was being tracked. Nothing that his son needed to concern himself with, though. He would handle it himself.

"I see no problem with that," Silverio said, breezily.

"And today is her eighteenth birthday."

"Well now! Here we are, a house full of adults! Excellent. This property wasn't built to accommodate little children running around, mind you. But we shall have many changes once the time comes, child-proof everything."

"You seem quite excited to have grandchildren, Papa."

"My boy, I am 70 years old! I should have grandchildren at my age!"

"Papa, your government papers say you're 50. And you're probably going to live another 70 more years if Grandfather is any indication. Don't get too excited."

"Ah, but I am! Finally, we can break this cycle of only children! You can have more than one child with this girl. Your grandfather would be thrilled to have more wolves brought into this world."

Werewolves could only sire one offspring when they mated with a human woman. The data wasn't available for female werewolves as they were so rare, but for male werewolves, they could olny sire one child in their lifetime, regardless of the number of women or attempts. There was no explanation for it, though there were theories as to why this was the case.

Hunter learned this from his grandfather who either learned it through his own ancestors or through his own research. He hadn't bothered to clarify where the information came from. He only knew that his grandfather was an only child, as was his father, and as was he.

[Two children. Maybe even three?] Hunter stared happily into his gla.s.s of whiskey. He had already resigned himself to the fact that he could only have one biological child in his lifetime, but the possibility of having more than one excited him. Adoption was clearly out of the question for werewolf families who wanted more children. It was hard enough to have a woman agree to marry a werewolf and bear a werewolf's son, it was unjust and possibly dangerous to expect an adopted child to accept a werewolf for a father and a brother.

But he seemed to be getting ahead of himself. Ash had not yet agreed to any of this, and yet here he was planning a future for them and their offspring.

As if reading his mind, his father asked, "Does she know that you intend to mate with her?"

Hunter's face turned red.

"Papa, don't say it like that!"

Silverio laughed. "Well, at least I know your intentions for this girl, even if she does not. She will stay with us for the holidays, yes?"

Hunter nodded.

"Good. You may stay with her in the guesthouse if she allows it. Although, I would advise against it, since it appears from our dining room banter that you haven't won her over just yet. We will share our knowledge with her. She is weak, and so you will help her become strong. And when she is knowledgeable and strong, you will ask her to join our family."

"Yes, Papa."

"Let's toast, my boy. You have brought home a worthy prize," Silverio said as he raised his gla.s.s to Hunter.

"She is not a prize, Papa. She is not a thing to be had," the young man argued.

"You respect her. Good. THAT deserves a toast." The two men clinked gla.s.ses and sipped their whiskey. Hunter made a face at the taste, but Silverio closed his eyes and savored it.

"Your mother would be very proud of you, my boy," Silverio said, beaming at his son.

***

In a yellow-lit room, a dark-haired woman leaned over a dark-haired girl. Her pale hand brushed the hair away from the girl's forehead. The hand caressed the hair on the girl's head, and smoothed it down so it lay neatly on the soft pillow.

"Are you growing winter wool, my little black sheep?" the woman asked in a laughing voice. She wrapped both of her hands around the girl's hand and kissed it.

Ash clasped the woman's hands in hers. Mama. Mama was in her room. It was time for bed.

Ash opened her eyes and saw the dark-haired woman leaning over her. It was time for bed. Mama was in her room.

"Mama!" Ash cried out, happy that her mother had finally returned.


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The Girl Cried Wolf 34 Mother summary

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