Chapter 6: Chapter 6: Unlucky

A Dornwich Tavern

Cas choked on his ale, startling Freya on his lap. Reassuring her with a smile and chuckle, he shook his head. “Wolves? As in the shapeshifters? Nothing but legends in my opinion.”

Wren scoffed again, others refusing his refusal. “Have you ever heard the fearsome tales of them? Every child begs for parents to tell scary stories at bedsides.”

As old as he was, this was a new experience, and suddenly Cas felt like the crook he didn’t want to be. This was a different aspect of hiding his identity and it seemed to qualify him for being a dirty liar. He’d become friends, if tentative, with these humans. If they ever found out he was a wolf, his honest words and honest work would crumble.

He forced a wider smile. “What are you waiting for, then? Tell me!”

That brightened the tavern’s spirit, names shouted out to be volunteers. Eventually, it settled on an elder named Luca with a wicked scar down his cheek. When Cas observed it for the first time a few days ago, it was easily determined as an attack from a true, non-shifting animal. But could he boast of a fight against the supernatural creature?

His voice was raspy and trembling, but the old man spoke with great conviction, “Wolves! Beastly, violent creatures who have the ability to transform between innocent human skin and ugly, furry wolf-like things.”

Cas felt like he just dodged a blow and almost laughed. Beastly? Ugly? Wolflike things? His kind could certainly be violent if provoked, they could certainly shift between forms, but they weren’t wolf-like—they *were* wolves. We’re anything but ugly, he thought, glancing at himself in the long mirror behind the bar.

“They steal children in the night as sacrifices to the moon!” Luca exclaimed to a few gasps.

Cas rolled his eyes. Why in the Moon Goddess’s h*ll would they do that?

“Or they eat them! Cannibals, too, of their own kind, if they can’t get to one of us.”

I won’t be able to hold in my laughter much longer, Cas thought.

But Luca’s voice turned dark. “Those night creatures are our enemy. We will not let them prey on our children. We’ve fought them before! We have torches and swords! Pick them up we will, and defend our land!”

The tavern roared in agreement. “Nothing but brainless monsters!” Wren shouted.

Cas didn’t have to worry about laughing now. Dread crept up his spine. He didn’t feel like drinking anymore. I’m not meant to be here, he realized with a jolt. This is wrong. I cannot be around people who believe these f*cking lies.

Disappointment came up next.

If they find out, I’m definitely dead. Just when I thought I could make a living in this quaint little place.

Wren looked back at Cas. “Are you afraid of them, large friend? You look pale.”

“Are you alright?” Freya murmured, her gentle hand on his cheek, drawing his gaze to her. She was so pretty, he thought again, with her smattering of freckles.

He rubbed her thigh which she shamelessly exposed after hiking up her dress hem. “The last thing to scare me would be cannibalistic wolves, darling.”

Freya blushed. “Then tell a story to make the rest of us less afraid.”

The tavern seconded that.

Cas inwardly heaved a sigh. They wouldn’t let it go. Humans were their own kind of stubborn. He had little choice in the matter, and he had plenty of time, so why not indulge them? It had been a good many years since he told a story.

He threw back the rest of the alcohol and found himself the center of attention. Sh!t, it had been a good many years since he’d had this many eyes on him. Did he miss it? A little. He’d rather have his own kind, his family and friends, but if someone could hear his voice then he’d speak it.

“How about the legend of the doomed lovers?”

The interest that spiked was palpable.

“Everyone loves a bit of romance,” Cas chuckled, squeezing Freya against him. “This may sound far-fetched, but that’s what all legends are, no?”

Clearing his throat, he began, “Long ago, humankind was small in numbers, scattered across the world with wills and desires to build stable lives. They wanted to live and love, as simple as that. At the same time, some wolves hoped for the same thing.”

There were furrowed brows and exchanged glances as if these humans couldn’t comprehend another species wanting to live in peace. Cas stopped himself from grating his teeth.

Instead, he exposed them with a laugh. “What are the odds? I told you legends are fantastical.”

This they understood with nods.

Let it go, Casimir. Play the story to their interests. “Of course, this just couldn’t be! These monsters couldn’t want to share the resources of the land; they needed it for themselves—and fought viciously for it all. Humans quickly realized these creatures of night couldn’t be reasoned with, and should be treated the way they behaved: savagely.”

More nods and grunts of agreement.

“Naturally, battles ensued. As both races grew in size, so did their greed. No one can deny that emotion is a beast in itself. The wolves, those ugly things, had the unnatural power of changing forms between that of a massive wolf and a human, able to control it at will. How dangerous that was, with the possibility of so easily disguising themselves to blend in with the enemy.”

Play to their selfish image of themselves, Cas thought, and I can have a little fun.

“That made them untrustworthy. Even if they had human forms, they still couldn’t be intelligent, right?”

“No!” Wren said, toasting his mug. “Fakes, they are!”

Cas gave him an indulgent grin. “Liars and imposters. Anyway, years go by. Battles turned into war: the War of the Beasts.”

Freya gasped. “I’ve heard of that! It took more years, but the wolves were defeated by their greatest weakness: silver.”

Cas wanted to laugh in her face. We have no such weakness, pretty, petty human, he thought. “Legends tell, hmm? Or maybe the wolves won by humans’ weakness: lack of claws and sharp teeth.”

This pleased no one. Cas shrugged and indulged himself further. “I tell as I hear. Onto the romance part—fantastical, farfetched, perhaps completely untrue, spun by some bored man wanting to cause trouble.

“A chief of a large human clan, Aspen”—why not make up names, when the whole story was a lie?—“encountered a particularly bothersome wolf pack. The leader of that pack, apparently referred to as an Alpha, was uncompromising in yielding his territory. They battled, equally matched at first. When night arrived—”

“If they can change their bodies at will,” Wren interrupted, “they don’t need the moon to transform?”

What kind of myth was that? “The myth I hear,” Cas said, careful to sound wary instead of scoffing, “is that some moon goddess granted former humans the gift of ferocity with no curse. The only strength the moon itself gave them was the hope of strength.

“When night arrived, a couple of humans decided to ambush the wolves while they slept. But the wolves were ready and the surprise attack backfired. Aspen was gravely injured, though he managed to hide in the brush. He could only wait until the fighting had died down—until all his men had died.

“He still had his spear. If he could kill just one wolf, he could die with pride. But he did not expect to be saved by one.”

Freya gasped. “Is he a doomed lover?”

Cas tapped her nose lightly. “One of two. The Alpha’s daughter, Tala, found him bleeding out. He tried to fight her off but was too weak, and he was confused why she wasn’t attacking him. She was in her human form, too, seemingly refusing to take her wolf form. When he went unconscious, Tala took Aspen to a cave far away from both of their strongholds so she could nurse him back to health.

“When he woke and found himself healed, he still didn’t trust her—”

“Wolves can heal humans?” Luca, the old man, demanded in disbelief.

Cas was pulling this story out of his ass, but there were flecks of truths—and flecks of hope. He shrugged. “I hear they can heal themselves in a matter of seconds, but if they can heal someone else, that’s a mystery.” He gave a mischievous smirk. “Would you be willing to find one and ask?”

Luca shook his head adamantly. Satisfied with his quick regret, Cas continued, “But it was only his superficial wounds. He’d broken his arm, so Tala wouldn’t let him leave until she was sure he was well enough. That took time, of course, and they spent a lot of it together.

“Long story short, they fell in love—”

Freya squealed in delight.

“—and realized that this war was useless. If each race intended to live in peace, why did they make war? They thought, with their unique positions of power, that they could convince everyone to end the strife, end all the battles and the loss of their family and friends.”

“But it didn’t go well,” Wren guessed darkly.

Cas pursed his lips. “Tala and Aspen promised to stop the hate, but their forbidden love was just too irrational. They were ripped from each other’s arms and sentenced with insanity.”

“Seems right,” Cas heard Luca mutter. “Just unnatural.”

“What’s unnatural,” said Cas loudly, startling the elder, “is deeming love not worth the effort of letting them live. Even though Tala almost convinced her father of the possibility of peace, he couldn’t bear the thought of his own daughter loving his sworn enemy. The punishment was death.”

Freya frowned.

“Aspen had no better luck. Before he was beheaded, he was granted one wish. He asked to die beside Tala. As it turned out, Tala was granted the same thing, and if love was able to prevail, fate let it be so through the rare generosity of each race.

“Aspen indeed lost his head; Tala’s death was more violent: her throat torn out.”

Unfortunately, that method of punishment was a reality, though it hadn’t been enacted in decades.

“The last thing they saw was each other,” Cas continued with the air of nearing the end. “‘I love you’ were their last words. That was when the wolves and the humans realized fighting was pointless. They needn’t lose more lives. So…they made a peace pact and went their separate ways, all in the name of unconditional love.”

Silence followed Cas’s words. Looking at the humans’ expressions, it seemed they were trying to come to grips with any sort of possibility of something like this ever occurring. Which was entertaining because it never did.

Finally Luca scoffed, “Bah! Farfetched indeed! I say if a wolf tried to save me, I’d rather die.”

Cas was struck by the comment and sharp realization in a ringing quiet.

Wolves were not meant to settle down in human dwellings.

I knew things were too good to be true, he thought regretfully.

Well, no need to worry.

Screams pierced the night outside. Braying animals, children shrieking, and general destruction had the tavern on their feet and drawing whatever weapons they could find. Cas got to his feet, pushing Freya behind him, and wondered what kind of threats a place like Dornwich faced.

Why wasn’t his first answer wolves?

Because one burst through the door and snarled, “Have any of you seen Casimir Olwen?”

Every patron froze in shock. Only Cas knew she was a wolf, but what they saw was a naked woman with leaves in her hair looking around wildly. He’d only seen her in her wolf form, but it was undeniably her.

Goddess d*mn it, Mingan.

Cas’s dread lit into adrenaline when Wren—d*mn him to the Goddess’s h*ll—pointed at him. Mingan’s eyes honed in and broke into a savage grin. “I found you!”

Behind him, Freya, who seemed to have enjoyed his tale, accused, “You know this—this woman?”

Cas felt like a blundering idiot—something he’d never been before. “I—”

“Of course he does,” Mingan barked, startling the entire bar. “Why else would I be howling for him?”

This can’t be f*cking happening, Cas thought with exasperation. He shook himself and felt the old authority as a pack leader flow into him. “Min—ah, dear lady,” he said with warning. Her grin and gait faltered. “Let’s step out back.”

She made a face of disgust, oblivious to his hint as well as the gawkers. “No! What are you doing here pretending to be human?!”

Cas’s blood went still. Goddess d*mn it, Mingan!

“Pretending,” Wren repeated at the other table, “to be human?”

Anything he said would be incriminating, so Mingan did it for him, turning a sharp glare on the human. “He must be good at it if none of you know that he’s actually a—”

Cas crossed the room in two strides and clapped a hand over her mouth, much to her outrage. “Please be quiet, darling,” he warned again through gritted teeth.

Little good it did. With his back to the bar, he heard Wren take a step forward. “Are you two…wolves?”

Mingan ripped away and tried to get past Cas. “Yes, dumb human, of course we are.”

Ah f*ck.

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