Noah shuffled his way across the spongy mosses and soft grasses that lined the path to his cabin. A slight limp hindered his left leg, and mud and scuff marks stained his ruffled shirt. Four hours! Four hours he had searched for his newest ‘apprentices’, following clues and markings left behind by their passage.
He had only been a master for one day, and already his apprentices had surpassed him. He had gotten close to Luna, but she had slipped away with relative ease, leaving him to return home in defeat. At this point, he had done his best to rectify the situation, and all he could do now was deal with consequences as they cropped up.
For once, he didn’t twirl his cane as he approached the cabin. Instead, he leaned heavily on it, lessening the pressure on his pulled muscle. Damn, these wolves and their ladders. The younger generation had already turned him into a spiteful old man, and like so many before him, he resented them for it. As his hand landed on the door handle, he took a deep breath, leaning his forehead against the rough wood. Not knowing what he was going to say, he took a moment to compose himself before creaking the door open an inch at a time.
A fire burned in the hearth, its flickering flames illuminating the cabin and causing his nose to twitch as he inhaled the acrid smoke. Sylvie sat at the upstart table, arms crossed with the fluttering light of the fire dancing across her face. A frown marred her face, and her eyes squinted in disapproval. Or was that disappointment? He could never tell the difference.
“Are you done sulking yet? I think I’ve humored your bad mood for long enough,” Sylvie said, uncrossing her arms and standing up from the table.
Her dismissive attitude toward his feelings infuriated him, and he lashed out with his weapon of choice—sarcasm. “Well, well, it’s nice to see you too, my mate. I didn’t realize my bad mood had inconvenienced you so much. Can you ever forgive me?”
Her eyes somehow narrowed even further, and a low growl rumbled out of her throat. “Is my mark really that shameful for you?”
“Yes,” he answered without hesitation.
Sylvie gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. His heart clenched as raw pain flashed across her face. Tears filled her eyes, but she didn’t try to hide her weakness from him. From her perspective, she had given him the greatest gift she was capable of, and his anger and shame toward her mark was the ultimate rejection. Silas’ words flashed through his mind. Tell her or she will not understand.
But what if he told her, and she still did not understand? Fears and insecurities ran rampant through his mind as he sat on the bed patting the spot next to him. “Sylvie, come sit by me.”
She bristled at his command, her alpha instincts demanding that she dominate him, but with visible effort, she gave in and sat beside him. They were from two different worlds, two different cultures, and lived by different moral codes. If they didn’t communicate, how could they bridge this gap of unnecessary misunderstandings and complicit ignorance? If he refused to risk his heart, their mating would inevitably fail.
“It is not your mark that I am ashamed of, Sylvie. It’s any mark,” he whispered, locking his fingers around hers and stroking her hand with his thumb.
It wasn’t until he saw the overwhelming relief on her face that he understood how revered a mating mark was to shifters. That one mark symbolized everything they could share with their mate, and a rejection of that mark was a complete rejection of who they were.
“I don’t understand, Noah,” Sylvie said, much calmer now that she knew he wasn’t rejecting her as a mate.
“Words fly from my mouth like moths to a fae globe, but if you stopped and thought for a moment, you would realize that you know nothing about me, Sylvie.” He tried to remove his sweaty hand from hers, but she tightened her grip, refusing to let him pull away.
“My shameful past has denied my relationships any truth or sincerity,” he whispered, self-hatred forcing his eyes to the ground.
“Noah, please tell me. I…I don’t wish to hurt you anymore because of my ignorance,” she said, encouraging him to take this first step forward.
He squeezed her hand even tighter, attempting to draw strength from his powerful mate, but the words died in his throat. A foreign power rebelled at his attempts to heal his psyche, stealing the air from his lungs and inducing a paralyzing fear within him. As he remained silent, consumed by such an undeniable entity, his hands began to shake and sweat pooled on his back. Gentle fingers gripped his chin, raising his eyes from the floor where they belonged until they met glowing silver.
“I am your mate, Noah. Nature deemed us flawed as individuals, but together, we are perfection. Voice your worries so that I can soothe them. Share your burdens so that I can help you carry their weight. Place your trust in me so that you may never face despair without my strength,” she whispered, imploring him to lower his walls.
Staring into her eyes, he searched for any signs that she doubted her words, nodding when he found nothing but complete confidence. “As you know, I was a coachman for the Greenwood Settlement, but I didn’t live there until I was twelve years old.”
Her head tilted in confusion. “I don’t understand. Were you born in a different territory? Why would your parents travel through the Wilds with a child?”
“No, I wasn’t from another human territory,” he said with a rueful smile.
He had told no one of his past, burying his shame deep inside where it could never tarnish the world. Now that the time had come for him to release his stranglehold on this burden, he balked. The world denied vampire slaves their humanity, writing them off as soulless livestock. For any slaves that emerged into the wider world, discrimination was rampant and execution was not uncommon. After all, why would any settlement allow a possible Thrall into their midst? He couldn’t bear to see such distrust on his mate’s face.
“Noah,” Sylvie whispered. “Please tell me.”
“Noah? Who is this Noah you speak of?” he yelled, bolting off the bed and ripping his hand from hers. He walked to the fire, eyes fogging as he watched the flickering flames dance in glee at his cowardice.
“Do you refer to the child whose name I stole? Noah—the first human name I ever heard. His father called his name with such love that I decided to adopt it as my own. What a foolish mistake I made back then. All these years later, and still, I have heard no one call me as reverently as that father called his son. An impossible yearning, born from theft, has cursed me to lust after blessings that I am unworthy to receive. That day, a new Noah was born from the ashes, but I’m still not sure who he is.”
He removed his beloved cowboy hat, crushing it into the soot that had escaped the hearth. “Is he a caravanner or a swashbuckling rogue? Is he a charmer or a schemer? Is he loyal or does he lack a conscience? Maybe he is the bravest man in the world, or perhaps he is a man who seeks absolution, begging death to capture him so that he can atone for his sins. Tell me who crawled out from that pile of ashes because I do not know!”
He stared into the fire; the wood hissed its mocking cackles as his humiliating words reverberated through the cabin. “Or maybe…I never found my freedom and remain a vampire’s slave.”
A gasp of disgust sounded out from behind him, and he closed his eyes, refusing to see it upon her face. With his eyes closed, he backpedaled toward the bed until the back of his knees hit the mattress. He removed his beloved trench coat, throwing it at the wall where it fell to the floor in a tangled ball. Its high collar no longer covered his past, leaving his neck bared to Sylvie’s gaze. Dense tattoos ran in intricate lines from the back of his neck down to his shoulders, serving as his last lines of defense.
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“Close your eyes, Sylvie. You will see more if your eyes don’t deceive you,” he whispered, grabbing her fingers and leading them to the back of his neck.
Refusing to see the disappointment on her face, he trusted she had closed her eyes and placed her trembling fingers on his skin. She gasped as her fingers felt the raised scars of his brand, always concealed by clever lines of ink. She jerked away, but he recaptured her hand, placing her index finger on the left side of his neck.
“Run your fingertips from left to right and tell me what you feel,” he whispered, shivering as another person touched his brand for the first time in his life.
“It’s some kind of lettering, but I can’t decipher the words,” she said between quivering breaths.
“Tell me what it says, Sylvie,” he insisted, keeping her finger on his skin.
“It reads Master…something…and then numbers. It ends with a two, but I can’t read the rest,” she whispered, her warm breath tickling the back of his neck. He released her hand, but she returned her finger to the beginning, tracing the characters of his brand once more.
“Master Augustus 2320 AB Negative 2. My torturers assigned me that name at birth, but my friends called me Negative 2.” He stood up from the bed and walked to the window, gazing at the hint of moonlight that filtered through the towering trees.
“I was born in a place where entire family lines are enslaved. The moonlight will never motivate them to reach for more. The stars will never inspire them to attempt the impossible. In their entire lives, they will never hear the whispers of dreams or feel the caresses of hope.”
Straining his eyes, he searched the night sky but found no stars to greet him with their twinkling beauty. “Less than one percent of humans have a blood type of ab negative. In the caverns, I was one of the three to be cursed with such luck. Unable to resist the sweetness of our blood, the vampires drained Negative 1 dry, mutilating his neck and discarding his body like trash. Negative 3 was too young to feed on, so I became the sole provider of such a rare vintage.”
His fingers ran along the side of his neck, feeling the dense scar tissue left behind by the countless feedings. “125 became an older brother to me, protecting and caring for me at substantial risk to his own safety. One day, he overheard a trader speaking of a settlement where humans controlled their own fate. We became obsessed with the tale and started to plan our escape that night.”
He heard Sylvie rise from the bed and walk toward him with hesitant steps. Even if she threw him out of the cabin, he had to finish his story. Now that he had broken the seal, he couldn’t stop the words from flowing out. “The normalcy of slavery was shattered, and we couldn’t regain our blissful ignorance. No one would believe our wild tales of freedom, leaving us isolated and mocked for trying to be their saviors.”
“On the night of our escape, I walked past countless humans, ensuring their deaths. Negative 3 shined just as brightly as Luna, and yet, I left her sleeping in her cell confined to a life of pain, misery, and death!” he yelled in rage, slamming his fist through the glass of the window.
Blood dripped from his hand and he brought it to his mouth, tasting the rare blood that had ruined his life. So much pain and suffering, all for a repulsive metallic tang. His hand fell to his side, droplets of blood plopping onto his balled-up trench coat. “During our escape, the Coven Master intercepted us, forcing 125 to sacrifice his life for my freedom. Every second of every day, I wonder if he regrets his choice.”
Sylvie’s arms wrapped around his waist, and she buried her face into his back. He grabbed her finger and traced it over the barely visible scar on his cheek. “Feel how close I came to death that night? Life is so fragile: an inch separates instant death from years of living. Why was I lucky enough to escape death when so many others aren’t?”
“What good is freedom if you abandon everyone you’ve ever known to suffering and death?” he whispered, turning around in her arms to face her. The tears streaming down her cheeks stunned him, and he wiped them away with gentle strokes of his thumbs.
She leaned toward him, gently resting her forehead against his. Renewed tears dripped onto his chest as she wrapped him into a hug, pulling him closer until no space separated them. “I am truly blessed to have found such an amazing mate.”
He attempted to pull away from her, his mouth already opening to refute her lies, but she cut him off with a growl, refusing to let him go. After holding him for a few minutes, she leaned back just far enough to meet his eyes.
“Does my mating mark remind you of the brand? Of slavery?” she asked, fear causing her voice to shake.
“Yes,” he whispered with a slight nod.
She jerked away from him, her incorporeal body flickering between wolf and human. At last, she failed in her struggles, giving in to her animal instincts and shifting into a giant black wolf. In a blur, she lunged toward the cabin’s entrance, slamming into the door and shattering the wood. Shards of wood rained down onto the forest floor, but she didn’t pause at the destruction she had caused. Sitting on her haunches, she bellowed out a sorrowful howl that echoed throughout the territory.
Answering howls sounded from the darkness as the other wolves in the pack shared in their alpha’s grief. A few wolves emerged from the tree line, but he couldn’t identify who had answered her calls. After seeing the Alpha’s mournful howling, the wolves echoed one last howl before retreating into the woods.
Standing in the shattered remains of the door, he watched the scene with clenched fists. Sylvie seemed to be okay with his past, but he needed to be sure. One question burned within his veins and haunted his nightmares. Was he worthless, or was there still something inside of him that was worth loving?
“Sylvie, I need you,” he choked out as his eyes filled with tears.
Her howls cut off at the sound of his voice, and her head whipped around to stare at him with glowing eyes. In an instant, she raced toward him, nuzzling her snout against his chest. He reached up to wrap his arms around her neck, grasping fistfuls of her soft black fur. Burying his face into her chest, something snapped within him, allowing his bottled-up pain to finally find an outlet. Hidden from the world by her black coat, he truly cried for the first time since he escaped the caverns. Choking sobs shook his body, his tears soaking the fur on her chest. She whined as she licked the tears from his cheeks, comforting him in the only way she knew how: like a wolf.
After a few moments, she regained control of her emotions and shifted back into her human form. She pulled his head onto her shoulder, and he continued bawling as she rubbed his back and whispered assurances into his ears. Finally, after he had cried a decade’s worth of tears, his sobs turned to sniffles. Embarrassed by his display of emotions, he wiped his ruined face with his sleeve, not daring to look her in the eye.
“Noah?”
“I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough tonight,” he said, face flushing and still refusing to look at her.
A hand gripped his chin, raising his head until he saw the glowing silver of her eyes. “Never be afraid to show yourself to me, my mate.”
Her eyes fell to the ground, and she bit her lip until he spied a drop of blood. “I’m sorry I did this to you, Noah. I truly am and if I could take it back, I would.”
“Did what?” he murmured, distracted by his attempts to reign in his mortification.
She hesitated before grabbing his hand and tracing the scar with her finger. “Engraving my mating mark upon your skin.”
“Noah, a vampire brand represents slavery. It strips away all individualism, reducing the person to nothing more than a possession. It is nothing more than a manifestation of a vampire’s sadism,” she said, her form flickering, and he could see her rage building into a fury.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she took deep, calming breaths until her form solidified once more. “A mating mark is the opposite. It does not strip away who you are but adds two halves together to create a whole. Mates share each other’s triumphs and failures, sorrows and joys.”
“Only now do I realize how much harm I have caused my mate. I have treated you like a wolf, Noah, and for that, I will never forgive myself. It will take time to find a middle ground between wolf and human that works for us. Until we learn such compromises, I will continue to make mistakes, but I swear to you I will learn.”
She kissed the mark on his hand before bringing his palm to her cheek. Leaning into him, she breathed a contented sigh. “Thank you for trusting me with your past, my mate. You have suffered so much in your short life, and it breaks my heart that I cannot take that pain away from you. You are my partner in this lifetime, Noah and nothing that has happened or will happen can ever change that.”
Without another word, she pulled out of his arms and strode away, leaving him to clutch at the air. Was she just going to run out on this emotional moment?
“Uh, Sylvie? Where are you going?”
“I need to kill something,” she growled, not turning around to face him.
He laughed, enjoying the much-needed humor after such a heavy night. Her head whipped around to stare at him, a crazed look blemishing her face. Her features were scrunched and twisted into a snarl, and her eyes had a wildness within them that wiped the smile from his face.
“O-o-okay, sure thing. What are you going to kill?”
“Whatever I can find that’s breathing,” she responded before shifting into a wolf that blurred into the woods.
In a daze, he watched his mate dash into the woods to find something to kill. Overwhelming relief rushed through him. “I knew it! I’m not the crazy mate in our relationship.”
Quite pleased with himself, he strolled back to their home, whistling a merry tune as he stepped through the mound of splinters littering the floor.