Alaric would have explained his stance had he not been interrupted by shouts of men from just ahead. They were deep in the forest—so deep they could no longer see the edge of the trees behind them. Had they found the creature so easily? As Alaric and Ulric approached where the men gathered, a female voice overpowered the group of males.

  “Damn her,” muttered Ulric. He had a gut feeling Daciana would keep her word, and that she did. He forcefully grabbed her arm and yanked her away from the crowd. “I shall see to it she arrives home safely,” he added over his shoulder as they marched off. A few men nodded, and others frowned at the spectacle of a woman on a hunt.

  “Let go of me!” Daciana repeatedly shouted until they were out of sight.

  Ulric summoned every ounce of poise, so he would not explode. “Hold thy tongue,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “I told ye not to come this night, yet ye consciously disobeyed. I am afraid thy father will hear about this.”

  Daciana attempted to wiggle her arm loose from Ulric’s firm grip, but she had no luck. “Release me,” she said, “and I shall return home immediately.”

  Ulric stopped and faced her. “Unfortunately for ye, I do not trust a single word from thy mouth, so I shall walk ye back to thy house, tell thy father what ye planned on doing, and make sure ye do not seek to join our hunt again.” He resumed a swift pace, with Daciana in tow.

  “Please do not tell my father,” Daciana begged, still struggling. “If he finds out—”

  “Enough!”

  Ulric was not certain he took her in the proper direction. At this point, he was not sure of many things, such as his feelings for the young woman standing next to him, his brother’s perfidy regarding the wolf, or whether his future lay with the farmstead. He knew, however, that he needed to take Daciana home, for he still could not shake the dreadful feeling in his stomach.

  At that juncture, a cry erupted from behind them. Ulric clasped Daciana’s arm even tighter, and they ran. More shouts and screams filled the bitter night air. Ulric pictured the wolf attacking the men one by one, leaving them to bleed out on the frosty earth.

  “Quickly, Daciana!” Ulric whispered.

  Both continually checked over their shoulders, though they were not sure they could prevent the creature from discovering them. Ulric thought it already knew their whereabouts, and after the wolf killed the hunting party, ’twould come after Ulric and Daciana. The notion no more left Ulric’s head when, out of the darkness, Alaric sideswiped them. Daciana screeched, hastily covering her mouth.

  “Do not stop!” Alaric said. The three of them picked up speed as they tackled shrubbery and dodged low-hanging limbs. “I suspect the whole lot is dead by now, but if ’tis truly after ye, ’twill not end this until both of ye join what is left of those men.”

  Ire rose in Ulric’s throat. He opened his mouth to respond, but was knocked down. His hand left Daciana’s, and the trees, the ground, even the moon, became a blur. When he was able to focus again, white fangs and golden eyes loomed over him. His breath hitched, his eyes widened. He wanted to scream, but ’twould not prevent harm.

  Gathering his wits, Ulric found his voice. “What do ye want from me?”

  The wolf’s mouth peeled back as it snarled. As sudden as lightning, it bit into Ulric’s neck. Ulric cried out in pain and attempted to push it away, but the creature was too powerful for him. Daciana screamed, Alaric was horrified, and when, at last, the wolf was done sinking its teeth into Ulric, it did the same to Daciana. Though Ulric’s vision was in and out of focus, he saw his dear Daciana lying still on the forest floor mere seconds after the wolf was finished with her. He saw Alaric’s tear-filled eyes as they aligned with the wolf’s, and watched the wolf back away and dart off in the opposite direction, not touching Alaric.

  Once Alaric shook off his initial fright, he jumped to action. Kneeling beside Ulric, he said, “I will find help, brother. I shall return.” He sprang upward and bolted through the trees.

  When Ulric finally awoke, he was lying atop a wooden table. He wanted to sit up, but a hand gently rested on his chest and pressed him backward. Ulric complied without quarrel. His mouth was wholly parched, so he licked his lips and moved his tongue all around, wetting the areas that needed it the most.

  “Daciana . . . where is she? Alive?” Ulric rasped.

  “Easy, brother,” said Alaric, who placed a calm hand on Ulric’s shoulder. “She is in the same shape as ye.”

  Ulric wanted to sit up, but he was in too much pain, so he opted to glance around with what minimal vision he had. The ceiling had wooden rafters, like most cottages in the area, and a heady smell inundated his senses. Where had Alaric taken them? Instead of asking too many questions, he focused on the scents and sounds, let them control his mind and body—soft clop, clop, clopping from someone’s shoes in another room, liquid bubbling and boiling in a kettle on the hearth, and the distinct aroma of grass, which reminded him of sitting in green fields during summertime, the sun warming his face.

  This was winter, however, and he was not at home. The only additional homestead he knew of, which smelled differently from the rest, was the herb witch’s home. Everybody in town was quite apprehensive when speaking about Lavenia, and his brother was no exception. Last Ulric heard, Alaric had not been with her in over a year’s time. Aye, they were once lovers, but Alaric dove headfirst into his drinking games at Murdock’s and completely abandoned poor Lavenia. Nobody had seen much of her since—unless, of course, they stopped by her dwelling for a potion or special brew.

  “We are at Lavenia’s,” Ulric murmured. ’Twas not an inquiry, for he knew.

  “Aye,” Alaric confirmed. “I am afraid she is not yet here, though. Her apprentices are doing the best they can with what is in their possession.”

  Ulric gripped Alaric’s latent hand. “Do not let us die, brother.”

  Alaric leaned in and whispered, “I would not dream of such a thing, and neither would Lavenia, I imagine. As soon as she arrives, she will know what to do.”

  But Lavenia did not arrive for nearly an hour, and Ulric and Daciana had weakened considerably. When Lavenia walked through the front door, her hair was tousled, her eyes feral, and her clothing was soiled. Alaric eyed Lavenia cautiously, like she was a child up to no good.

  “What happened to ye?” he asked.

  In a mindless fog, Lavenia scrutinized her form and looked to Alaric. “I was just out searching for herbs in the forest.” She pointed to Ulric and Daciana, lying atop two separate wooden tables, in separate rooms. The cottage was so tiny she could easily see both of them from the entrance. “Why are they here?”

  “They have been bitten,” Alaric explained.

  “Oh?”

  “By a wolf. Fortunately, I was spared and able to get help; otherwise, we all would be lying dead in the forest.”

  Lavenia glanced from Ulric to Daciana. “Fortunate, indeed.”

  “Will ye help them?” Alaric held his breath, exhaling only when she replied, “Aye.”

  Lavenia checked with her apprentices concerning what herbs and potions they created as healing aids. When she was satisfied the correct items were used, she resumed placing new bandages and balsam onto the wounds. Daciana was last to receive her treatment, and once she finished, Lavenia turned her attention to Alaric.

  “There is naught ye can do for them further. They must rest,” said Lavenia.

  Alaric nodded a few times. “And they shall be well by morning?”

  “Very.” Lavenia smiled despite Alaric’s frown. “Now, off ye go.” She nearly shoved him out the door.

  Alaric turned around to tell Lavenia he would be back, but she closed the door in his face. Baffled by Lavenia’s behavior, Alaric’s mind began spiraling with questions. Why had she returned without herbs, if that was her sole purpose of leaving the cottage? Why was her hair tangled, and her face and clothing fouled? Why was there a gaping tear on her skirt? Alaric did not have immediate answers to these queries, but he aimed to uncover them.

  Several hours later, and wee into the morning, Ulric and Daciana awoke in a haze. Lavenia stood watch nearby, in case they attempted to escape. Her aides had attended to the baby, while Lavenia attended to Ulric and Daciana. Now, her apprentices and the child were fast asleep, as she looked after her unexpected guests.

  “My congratulations to ye both,” Lavenia said, breaking the silence in the cottage. “Ye have made it through the night and are showing rapid signs of healing.”

  Ulric tried to sit up, but his neck and body were sore, so he lay back down. “Where is my brother?”

  Lavenia inspected him like a bird trapped in a cage. “I am afraid he is gone, for now. I sent him away until the sun rises.”

  Ulric closed his eyes and thanked any higher beings who listened that his brother was all right. “And Daciana?” He gulped as he awaited a response.

  “The same as ye,” replied Lavenia.

  “Saints be praised!”

  Lavenia moved about the room, placing vials of potions back in their respectful cabinets. She stirred a pot on the hearth, scooped two bowls full of stew, and brought them, along with two spoons, to Ulric and Daciana.

  “Eat,” she said. “Ye need thy strength for what I am about to say.”

  Ulric glanced at Daciana in the opposite room. She had the same perplexed look on her face as he felt was on his. What could Lavenia possibly share with them? He hardly knew her, and was only acquainted with the trysts she and his brother shared formerly. Mayhap she would explain the extent of their injuries, and how they should treat themselves once they walk out her door.

  When Ulric and Daciana had finished the last remnants in their bowls, Lavenia collected the dishes and returned to stand in the doorway connecting both rooms.

  “Ye will condemn what I am about to tell ye, but know I speak the truth,” Lavenia said. “The attack ye underwent in the forest was dreadful. Both of ye were bitten by a powerful wolf, one of myth and legend. The bite incited a curse to crawl into thy blood and under thy skin. Forevermore, ye both shall carry this burden.”

  Ulric felt a chill wash over his body. “What are ye saying?” He did not want to hear it, nor did he want to believe it.

  “I am saying ye are transforming into werewolves,” Lavenia stated, confirming Ulric’s deepest fears. “However, I can lessen this blow by formulating another curse, a cure to alleviate thy suffering.”

  “If thou think I am going to be cursed yet again—” Daciana started.

  “This second curse will ease thy troubles of becoming a creature of the night,” said Lavenia. “I can give ye powers beyond thy imaginings. The choice, nonetheless, is up to ye.”

  Ulric studied Daciana’s terrified features, and a small pang twisted his gut. He wished then that Daciana had listened to him, that she would have remained inside the Lowell residence during the hunt. She would not be in this predicament had she obeyed.

  A new thought struck him, though. “What of my brother? Is he infected with this blight, as well?”

  Lavenia shook her head. “Nay, he is not. It seems the wolf did not choose him.”

  At least he was spared, thought Ulric. ’Twas inconvenient, still, that the creature chose Daciana and him. Why, though? What did they possess that was of importance to this wolf?

  “These powers thou speak of,” Daciana began, “what are they?”

  Lavenia found a chair and dragged it to the center of the room, where she sat. “The spell I will place on ye, should ye so choose to go forward with the enchantment, is only just that—a spell. The powers ye will receive from this spell are not mine to give ye; they are given by the Old Gods. They decide what ye should be blessed with, not I.”

  Daciana breathed heavily, inward and outward. “What thou speak of is witchcraft and punishable, by law, with death. If any person should find out—”

  Lavenia interjected, “Then I suggest ye keep thy mouth closed, for thy own good. Aye, death is the punishment, should ye be found out. If, however, ye keep quiet, ye shall be immortal—powerful—with abilities that defy logic. Very shortly, ye will be protectors of the forest, enemies to the moon and man, and eternally living in a world where death cannot touch ye. I would say that is a small price to pay for what ye are about to endure.”

  “Does Alaric know this?” Ulric questioned.

  “Nay, he does not, and it should remain so. Should ye tell another living being of thy curse, ye not only place thyself in danger, but also pass the curse on to thy children and theirs.”

  Daciana stiffened as she remembered the conversation she had not so long ago with Frida. Everything had turned out exactly as Frida predicted. If only she had listened to Ulric and waited at home, none of this would have happened. But then, had she minded, Ulric would be in this ill-fated quandary apart from her, and he would observe her grow old, withered, and wrinkled, while he remained so young and handsome. She would have died like any normal human, and he would have watched, knowing he would never see her again. The thought of him moving on, completely alone in the world without her there by his side, split Daciana’s heart in two. Despite the situation, she was relieved the wolf bit her.

  “I am ready,” Daciana said, lifting her chin. She did not believe there was ever a more opportune moment than this, so she would seize it by the throat and take charge of her destiny.

  Lavenia did not seem surprised. She looked to Ulric and asked, “And ye? Will ye join her?”

  Ulric had doubts written all over his face, Daciana noticed, but he stood and answered, “Aye, I am ready, as well.”

  “So be it,” Lavenia said, before she cast the spell that would change their lives until the end of time.

  Chapter Ten

  Alaric waited until sunup before he returned to the scene of the attack. He was risking his life yet again just to pacify the inner demons haunting his mind. Lavenia’s appearance was too disheveled for him to believe she was out picking herbs. Even the way she shut the door in his face seemed odd. He was in search of the truth, and he would not cease until he deciphered the mystery.

  Finding the exact location of the onslaught would prove to be difficult; ’twas late in the evening when it occurred, and he was not thinking quite clearly. Nevertheless, he knew he would not stop until he unearthed proof he was not losing his mind. ’Twas a funny thing, his mentality, shoving notions around his head like they were in a tavern brawl. Yet the ideas he formulated coincided with what he witnessed the night before, and how Lavenia emerged. He also noted the distance between her cottage and the forest was not remote.

  Hours later, Alaric came upon the precise site where the wolf attacked his brother and Daciana. The bodies of those men who perished last night had already been removed from nearby, and Alaric followed the trail of broken twigs, paw prints, and snapped limbs . . . until they led him to a bush with a shred of fabric. The same piece of material torn from the skirt Lavenia wore.

  Alaric struggled for air. He had intended to prove his mind wrong, but this tiny bit of fabric was attestation that his wits were sound. He knew what had to be done, and he dreaded the confrontation. Lavenia must be interrogated. For a long time, there had been talk among the townsfolk that Lavenia was practicing the dark arts, yet nobody had the courage to confront her, for fear of being hexed. Alaric was not afraid, and if anybody could challenge Lavenia, ’twould be him.

  He marched off toward her cottage. Ulric and Daciana should have been awake, and Alaric wanted naught more than to confront them about what happened, about what Lavenia said after he was banished from her home. They would have the answers he desired.

  A couple of dogs ambled about the cottage, eager to see Alaric, but he ignored them as he strode up to the front door and let himself in. The two apprentices were cleaning the tables and glanced up at Alaric’s unexpected arrival. It took him a moment to gather his reasoning, because Ulric and Daciana were nowhere to be seen. Damn her, he thought, knowing Lavenia sent them on their merry way before Alaric could return.

  “Where is she?” he growled.

  “Right here,” Lavenia said, as she casually ambled into view from the back of the home.

  Alaric tried to restrain his temper, but ’twas proving to be difficult. “Mind explaining this?” He held up the small piece of cloth he found earlier.

  Lavenia’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second, then returned to a glower. “Simple. I explained to ye I was searching for herbs in the forest. When I heard the cries emanating from those poor fellows, I took off in a sprint. My dress caught on some shrubbery.”

  “Yet ye did not return here for a mere hour,” Alaric contended. “Does that not seem a bit odd? Where were ye during that time?”

  Lavenia did not counter, at first, and when she could not supply a response, she plainly said, “Get out.”

  “Not until ye explain what in the bloody hell is going on,” Alaric retorted. He crossed his arms in a display of defiance.

  Lavenia lost her composure, then. “Get out!” Her apprentices fled to the back area of the cottage in fear.

  “Nay,” said Alaric. “Ye are hiding something from me, and I intend to keep my feet planted here until I find out.”

  Face red and blood boiling, Lavenia could no longer contain her emotions. “They are cursed. Thy brother and Daciana will forever walk this world as immortal beings, and they are slowly becoming the same creature ye hunted last night.”

  Aye, the words departed from her lips, yet Alaric could not seem to grasp them. In the darkest recesses of his mind, he thought of this development, but he did not want to believe it true. Although, there they stood, face to face, Lavenia confirming everything he already knew. Alaric felt as if she punched his stomach.

  “This cannot be true, for man cannot transform into beast,” he said, finally.

  Lavenia pursed her lips.

  “Even if ’twere true, my brother is no monster. Neither is Daciana.” He paced the room, ran clammy fingers through his hair, and bit back a cry of protest. “Do they know of this? Have ye told them?”

 

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