Drawn To The Alpha 2 (13 page)

‘I will care for her. It’d be a privilege.’

‘When shall I go?’ Van asked, a tear rolling down his cheek.

‘Right away,’ Sophia replied weakly. She kissed the top of his hands. ‘I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I can’t bear the thought of being without you. But it’s the only way.’ She released his hands and he held her face gently, looking at her with such tenderness and love that she was sure her heart would break during the long nights without him. He kissed her gently on the lips and pressed his forehead into hers.

‘I love you,’ he whispered. ‘Stay alive, okay?’

Chapter 22

Eight days later

Sophia blinked blearily as heavy footsteps sounded on the porch outside. The light was fading; night was closing in once more on this little room that had become her whole world. The days had merged into each other and her real life in the city seemed as far away as a childhood dream. Thomas jumped up from his post beside her bed and she forced her eyes to stay open, willing them to focus. Thomas flung the door open and there he was, filling the doorway like she didn’t remember him doing only a week before. Van. Her darling Van. Was it possible that he was physically bigger, or had her own Being simply dwindled so much that he seemed so? Her heart, very weak now, made a tiny leap of joy. It was so miniscule that the happy buzz faded immediately, but she noticed and clung onto it. 

Van shook Thomas’s hand briefly and firmly before rushing to her side. He threw himself to his knees and clasped her hands between his, kissing them time and time again. ‘Sophia, my poor darling. I don’t even need to ask how you are. I can tell by looking at you. But just to find you alive is a relief; I was so afraid that you’d be…’ he stopped, seeming unable or unwilling to say the dreaded word.

She licked her lips with a dry tongue and focused all her energy on speaking. ‘I haven’t got long left. My light is very dim,’ she rasped. ‘Thomas looked after me beautifully.’ That was all she could manage. She desperately wanted to tell him more about everything that Thomas had done for her. How he’d emptied her bedpan without a flicker of distaste crossing his features or syllable of complaint passing his lips. How he’d picked the cotton lining from her padded trousers and made swabs so he could moisten her mouth with water when she was too weak to sit up and take a drink. How he’d chewed tough rabbit meat in his mouth first – like a mother bird – so that it was easier for her to swallow down her feeble throat. There was more too, endless small miracles that he’d performed, but her tongue and lips were simply too weak to make the words to express them.

Van looked down on her mutely, clearly distressed by how much she’d declined in just seven days. She saw him take in the jutting bones of her face and the stringy, dry mucous that clung to her lips despite all of Thomas’s efforts to remove it. He smoothed back her thin, limp hair and gasped with horror when clumps of hair came away in his fingers. His eyes filled with tears that soon spilled down his cheeks and splashed onto the dry, crepe-like skin of her neck. She could tell that he was thinking how close to death she was; that just one more day would’ve been too long. ‘Hang in there, my darling,’ he whispered. ‘Not long now.’

She’d wondered idly in times past – as people do when their daily life is comfortably removed from the reality of their ponderings – about what it would be like to be on the brink of death from old age or disease. She’d imagined a sense of serenity, a peaceful recognition that the train was approaching its final station. Relief that the suffering of the dying process would soon be over. And indeed, over the past two or three days a feeling of acceptance had settled over her that was spacious and freeing, but it was also very dangerous. In her sharper moments she knew that she must fight it; it wasn’t her time yet. But at other times she felt her whole being leaning gratefully into the eternal abyss, welcoming a release from the struggle of basic functioning. Thomas had taken to whispering in her ear, reminding her that it was too soon. There was too much to do. Her soul was not permitted to rest just yet. Hang on.

And now Van was back, larger than life, and vibrant with energy. He was actually luminous; it wasn’t long now until he’d take her over completely and his energy levels would be high enough that her Pure Soul duties would be complete, but not in the way they’d all agreed. Van moved away from her bedside and she was vaguely aware of him and Thomas whispering urgently beside the stove.

‘Do you think the moon’s full enough for us to change?’ asked Van. ‘I was hoping it would only be two days off full, but I think I’ve miscalculated. Looks more like three.’

‘We don’t have any other choice but to try.’

‘You’re right; she won’t last another day.’

‘I truly thought she was going to go last night,’ Thomas said. ‘She wouldn’t open her eyes. In the end I opened the cabin door and threw off her blanket so the cold would rouse her. She was shaking like a leaf but at least she was alive.’

‘You’ve done so much; I can never thank you enough.’ Van glanced out the window. ‘The weather’s cleared but the big question is: can she do the deed? It’s her task and her task alone; neither of us can help her. I’m just not sure she’s up to it.’

Sophia opened her mouth and tried to speak but all that came was a weak cough. Van and Thomas rushed over.

‘Did you want to say something?’ Thomas asked gently.

She swallowed thickly then managed to whisper, ‘I can do it. I can do it,’ she said, more strongly. She looked at Van. ‘Knife?’

Van gave a short nod. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a weapon that made both Sophia and Thomas draw their breath sharply in wonder. It was a medium length dagger. The blade had four smooth, silver surfaces that appeared to be hand beaten, but it was the handle that was breathtakingly beautiful. It was so clean and bright that it almost had to be newly made or else meticulously restored, but the design was distinctly medieval. Twisting silver strands made their way around dazzling crimson stones, culminating in a wonderfully detailed eagle motif at the very top.

‘The eagle is an ancient symbol of strength and courage,’ said Van.

‘We all need that,’ Thomas said quietly.

‘And the ruby is the stone of queens,’ Van continued. ‘Appropriate for you to take with you to help on the way to becoming even more important than a queen to all the werewolves.’

Sophia shook her head, her bottom lip quivering. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she rasped. ‘Thank you.’ She looked from Van to Thomas and back again. ‘Is it time?’

‘It’s time,’ they both replied.

‘Carry me outside,’ she said. All of a sudden she grasped Thomas’s hand. ‘Wait. I want to say something to you...’

He leant down to her and spoke gently, emotion twisting his features. ‘You don’t have to. I know what needs to be done and I accept it. There’s nothing but good feeling between us.’

‘But I want to. A drink, please.’ Van helped her to sit and Thomas held a mug of water to her lips. She coughed and choked; even swallowing was nearly impossible now. When the racking coughs subsided she reached for Thomas’s hands. She drew up all of her strength and spoke.

‘Thomas, words can never do justice to how I feel and I’m not strong enough to say all of them anyway.’ Tears streamed down her face; both men were crying too. ‘Just know that I’ll never forget everything you’ve done for me and the incredible sacrifice you’re making for all werewolves. I don’t know how I’ll live from this day forward, with the guilt of what I’m about to do. But your sacrifice makes me determined to live each day to the fullest in tribute to you. I count you as a true friend and I’ll never forget you.

Thomas wiped his eyes on his sleeve and embraced her. ‘It’s been a pleasure and an honor knowing you,’ he said quietly. ‘Thank you.’ He stood up, sniffing. ‘Now, let’s get you outside.’

Chapter 23

Van and Thomas sat side by side as wolves: the young, vigorous black beauty and the wise, grey elder, still so strong, wise beyond words. The night was clear and cold. The moon was low in the sky, almost full aside from a thin shadow on the right. It seemed particularly close to earth on that night, with its mysterious craters and mountains visible to the naked eye. Sophia lay on the bed of pillows and blankets that Van had prepared before he and Thomas carried her carefully out from the safety of the cabin into the chilly air. She’d watched as the men transitioned into wolves next to her. It was as thrilling as ever. Although it hadn’t been discussed, she now felt a pressing desire emanating from the pair.

‘Go,’ she said, stretching her dry lips into a smile. ‘Run as wolves.’ She didn’t need to say what she was thinking as she was certain they were both thinking it too. This was the last time they’d stride out freely with power and agility of four limbs and with supernatural speed spurring them on. Their last time running as wolves. They both gave her a questioning look.

‘I’m sure,’ she said. ‘Enjoy it.’

Van reassured her that they wouldn’t take long and she watched as they bounded away into the forest. She rested on her back on her comfortable outdoors bed and stared at the moon. She was glad of these few moments to gather her thoughts, her strength and her courage. In her hand was the smooth, cool dagger and in her heart was tortured dread. It would’ve been hard enough if she’d had to kill Thomas eight days ago, when they first met. But now she had to find it in herself to end the life of a precious man who’d preserved her own life so tenderly. He’d nursed his executioner, in full knowledge of what he was doing, so that others could have the chance to live a life he’d only dreamed of returning to. If a better man existed she couldn’t imagine where.

But all too soon they returned and the inevitable couldn’t be delayed any further. With tails wagging and steam wafting off their hot bodies they howled at the moon, one last time. Sophia closed her eyes as the different notes of their howls wrapped themselves around her. It was a moment she knew she would never forget.    

Slowly, slowly she made her way up to sitting. She’d need gravity’s help when it came time to drive the knife in. Her head spun, unaccustomed to being upright, and she took a moment to steady herself. Bile rose in her throat and she swallowed it down, along with the panic that tightened all the wasted muscles of her neck. She looked at Thomas and he looked at her.

Are you ready?
She asked him in her mind.

Yes.
The sound of his solemn voice inside her head made her heart break even more. She kept waiting for the moment when something would happen to change the course of what was about to happen. Someone, something, anything…

But nothing came. Thomas moved until he was sitting directly in front of her. Sophia rested her cheek on the slightly shaggy fur of his shoulder for a moment, breathing in his fresh scent. She kissed him once before he lay down onto his side, as close to her as he could get. Even now, at this heart-wrenching moment, he was
still
helping her. It would almost be easier emotionally if he put up a fight, resisted somehow. At least that way she wouldn’t be murdering a saint. She looked up at Van, swaying a little. She wouldn’t be able to stay sitting much longer. Van’s blue eyes pierced into hers and she could feel him willing her to be brave.

For all the wolves,
he said.

For all wolves,
she repeated. She looked down at Thomas, who had rolled all the way onto his back, exposing the sharp curve of his ribcage. She reached her shaking fingers forward and felt his ribs under his fur and skin, right above where she figured his heart lay. She positioned the sharp point of the dagger. She squeezed her eyes closed then took one last look at Thomas.

Goodbye, sweet Thomas.
With that she plunged the dagger in, leaning all of her weight onto the top of her hands so there was no chance the blade wouldn’t find its target. She left the dagger inside of him and collapsed off to the side, anguished howls racking through her body. She curled into a ball, covering her face with her hands, bathing in the horror of what she’d done.

Then through her fingers came an intense light. She slowly moved her hands aside to see a blinding beam of light rising from Thomas’s wound, reaching high up into the sky. Like a beam of pure moonlight, it slowly widened, eventually swallowing Sophia and Van in its lunar embrace. A faint humming sound began, like a bee trapped behind a glass window. It rapidly intensified, louder and louder, until Sophia’s whole body pulsated with it.

All of a sudden it stopped and the light disappeared. Momentarily blinded by the light and deafened by the noise, Sophia scanned left and right over Thomas’s body, her eyes desperately seeking Van. Then she saw him. He’d been standing right in front of her all along. A man – a mortal man – tall and handsome, with a heart that was forever more joined with hers.   

It was done.