Thrice Blooded by La Fleur R. at Inkitt

Prologue

“My father didn’t want me coming here.”

I pressed my knees together and rubbed my palms against my thighs, trying to reclaim the warmth the air conditioner had stolen.

She rested the pen cap against her lips and kept chewing. With her free hand, she opened a drawer in the desk between us and pulled out a white remote.

The hum of the air conditioner changed. A faint shudder passed through the unit, and slowly, the room began to embrace me. At last, I could close my eyes without having to fight the memories.

She tilted her head.

It was the same slow, curious gesture I had seen somewhere before. I just couldn’t remember where.

“We’re not going to talk about that right now.” Her pen scratched across the paper. “Tell me what happened at the zoo.”

I remembered that morning.

My friends had invited me to a zoo in the next town over. They said a new animal was arriving that day — one as large and powerful as an entire pack of wolves.

I had never cared much for animals. Maybe because I had spent so little time around them. Or because none had ever truly tried to embrace me.

They usually ran.

As though there were something about me that made them uncomfortable.

Then again, it wasn’t only animals. The farther back I searched my memories, the more I realized everyone had kept their distance.

The scratching of her pen set the rhythm of the memory.

I kept my eyes closed.

And began to remember.

“Come on, babe. Stop being so uptight and come with us.” He smiled at me from the driver’s seat.

“My father is going to kill me.” I widened my eyes, hoping he would finally understand that I was serious.

“Right...” He rolled down the window and flicked his cigarette outside, holding the smoke in his lungs. “He doesn’t even have to know. I really want you there. I stayed up all night reading that book about lions, and I want to show you everything I learned.”

“Stop pressuring her, Alex.” Carla leaned between the front seats. “If she doesn’t want to go, leave her alone.”

“Oh, relax, Puddin’. Four makes sense. With three, someone always ends up being the third wheel.” Arthur lit a joint in the back seat. The smell of burning paper and weed filled the car, and I started coughing as soon as the smoke reached me.

Alex straightened in his seat and took the joint from Arthur. He drew in a long breath.

For a few seconds, I found myself staring at his freshly trimmed beard and the way his lips moved.

“I’m just saying...” A tired smile tugged at his mouth as he lowered his gaze. “You promised you’d give me another chance when I finally put some real effort into something. I thought you’d at least let me prove I’ve changed.”

Then he turned to me.

His eyes gleamed through the smoke, caught in the glow of the dome light.

Smoke slipped slowly from his lips, drifting over the caramel leather of the steering wheel before curling into translucent rings above the dashboard.

“I know what I promised, but...” I tucked my hands between my thighs and looked out the window. “You know how difficult my father can be.”

“You’re an adult, babe. Come on.” Alex pushed Carla back into the rear seat and leaned between the seats until his face was beside mine. His chin hovered near my neck.

My skin prickled. A chill rose from the pit of my stomach.

I turned toward him. Our noses almost touched as I reached for the joint between his fingers. I inhaled deeply, letting the smoke scrape down my throat and spread warmth through my chest.

Then I blew it slowly into his face.

Alex closed his eyes and smiled.

I knew I was going to regret it.

I knew exactly what he was doing. He had played every one of these games before, and I still let myself fall into the trap.

I was tired of being alone.

“If you promise not to be an asshole, I’ll go.”

I smiled when I caught him leaning in for a kiss. I drew my head back and held the joint between us, keeping him at a distance.

“But don’t get the wrong idea. You have a habit of thinking the whole world belongs to you, and you need to stop trying to win back what we had.”

I glanced at the back seat.

Carla was laughing behind one hand while Arthur held her away with a flurry of playful swats. The moment she broke free, she squeezed between the seats again, forcing Alex away from me. Then she brought her lips to my ear.

“You’ve got him wrapped around your little finger.”

We covered our mouths and laughed.

As the car pulled away, all I could think about was the look on my father’s face when he found out.

“Running a zoo must pay pretty damn well. Look at all these mansions.” Arthur held the smoke in his lungs, making his voice come out thin and squeaky. A little wisp escaped with every word.

“I don’t think it’s just the zoo.” Carla took the joint from him, kissed his cheek, and laughed. “It’s probably the tourism. Besides, this is where all the rich people live.”

“It must be nice...” I watched the mansions drift past the window. “But do you think they’re happy?”

I studied the people tending the gardens. Not one of them looked like they wanted to be there.

“Money can’t buy happiness...” Alex laughed as Carla passed him the joint. “But I’d take you to Paris and be miserable with you, babe. I’d take all of you. Even Arthur.”

“I’m good.” Arthur shifted in his seat, making the leather creak. “Anything they’ve got over there, I can get at a drug den.”

Carla burst out laughing while Alex shook his head.

“That’s not what I meant. And you know I only have eyes for her.” He winked at Arthur, then turned to me and offered me the joint. “I’m making you a promise. As soon as I graduate, I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

The zoo’s parking lot was so vast it looked like it could hold thousands of cars. The entrance itself, though, was simple. Almost easy to miss.

There was only a golden statue of a lion lying before it, as tall as a man and covered in intricate details.

No matter where we stood, the animal seemed to move with us, watching everyone who crossed the entrance like a silent sentinel. Arthur said it was the position of its body and the expression on its face creating the illusion—the same way the Mona Lisa’s eyes seemed to follow you across a room.

Arthur could say whatever he wanted.

I still felt like the Lion was watching me.

Alex collected our tickets, slipped an arm around my shoulders, and held the other two out to Carla and Arthur.

We headed toward the turnstiles.

A man in a black suit stood inside each lane. All of them had long, bristly beards. Beside them sat enormous wolves, their fur contrasting with their handlers’ hair.

We walked toward the nearest lane.

“Ladies and gentlemen, would you mind using the lanes beside this one?”

One of the guards smiled, revealing perfectly white teeth. His eyes flashed gold for an instant.

Then he stamped his foot against the ground.

Alex and Arthur moved away without a word.

Carla stepped into the lane beside mine, where a slightly older man stood with streaks of white scattered through his beard and hair.

I stayed where I was.

My legs had tried to obey, but I hadn’t.

I narrowed my eyes, trying to understand what had just happened to them.

The men kept smiling.

One of the wolves rose and walked toward me. It lowered its head to sniff me without ever looking away. Its pupils widened. Every breath from its nose was powerful enough to lift my shoelaces.

A warm spark raced through my toes.

It felt like a mild electric shock, leaving my foot numb for an instant.

Caught in the wolf’s gaze, I began to crouch.

It raised its muzzle and licked its lips. Its tail went rigid, and its body seemed to grow as it straightened, as though it were calling me closer.

For the first time in my life, an animal wasn’t trying to run away from me.

I wanted to throw my arms around it. To bury my hands in its thick fur and finally understand the feeling everyone else talked about.

Then the necklace my father had given me shifted against my chest, wrenching me free.

The rounded ruby—smooth and almost glasslike—felt as though it had sprouted tiny thorns.

I pressed my palm against it and traced the symbols carved into its surface until it rested comfortably against my skin again.

I took a deep breath.

The Wolf was still standing in front of me.

The guard who had spoken to us was smiling a little wider now. In the other lanes, the men searched bags and spoke quietly with the visitors.

The guard clicked his tongue.

The Wolf immediately returned to his side.

I had scared myself over nothing.

It was all part of the welcome: enormous, well-cared-for animals trained to interact with visitors.

Even so, I couldn’t stop smiling as I passed through the turnstile.

For the first time, one of them hadn’t run away from me.

“So, sparks and wolves...” She paused. Her pen clicked. “And a whole lot of weed.”

Another click. Then her pen began scratching across the paper again.

“Do you think it might have affected you more strongly than usual?”

“Actually, weed has never done anything to me. I only smoke because I’m desperate to find out where all the magic everyone talks about is hiding.” I pursed my lips and opened my eyes. “Slow motion, inner peace, everything suddenly becoming fascinating... Do you think I might be immune to it?”

“It’s possible...” She lowered the paper and smiled. “What happened next?”

I remember Alex and Arthur asking if they could pet the wolves. The handlers allowed it.

Carla threw herself around one of them and rubbed its fur as if it were an enormous teddy bear, joking that she was taking it home.

For a moment, I could have sworn the Wolf smiled.

It was the same one that had sniffed me.

After looking at me, it turned to its handler. The man tilted his head.

The Wolf looked at me again, then back at him. It opened its mouth and began panting, tongue hanging out. The man rolled his eyes, pursed his lips, and shook his head.

The Wolf came toward me.

I crouched.

It sniffed my hand, licked its lips, and pressed its forehead into my palm.

It was almost magical.

No.

It was magical.

Its fur was soft and smelled of cinnamon and wet earth. I buried both hands in the thick fur around its neck, the heavy tufts spilling between my fingers.

It closed its eyes.

I nearly rested my forehead against its own...

Then the handler clicked his tongue.

The Wolf’s ears snapped upright, and it immediately returned to his side.

“I was starting to get jealous,” Alex said with a laugh as he approached.

He slipped an arm around my shoulders and began steering me farther into the zoo. But I couldn’t stop looking back.

The handler was talking and laughing with the Wolf.

The Wolf was trying to hide its face behind one paw.

Arthur was a film student. He pulled a camcorder from his bag and started recording.

Carla immediately slipped into the role of a talk-show host, bombarding Alex with questions while he tried to hide his face from the camera. Whenever she turned the lens toward me, I smiled and played along.

Carla was dragging me toward the enclosures when Arthur spotted something far more interesting on the map: Miriega, an open garden where, according to the brochure, visitors could walk freely among the animals.

The entrance stood between two hollowed-out trees, their trunks carved into elaborate shapes. The name Mir had been cut into one. Yaga into the other.

A braided hemp rope stretched between them, as thick as the ones used to moor ships. From it hung a scorched wooden sign, its enormous letters carefully preserved and polished:

ONLY VISITORS WITH CRIMSON COINS MAY ENTER.

Beside the trees was a door leading into a building concealed among the vegetation. The entire structure had been painted to blend into the landscape without spoiling the illusion.

Carla ran her hand over one of the carved trunks, following every curve in the wood with her fingertips.

“It looks so old...” She smiled. “Almost like the tree grew this way.”

“You’re paying way too much attention to a tree.” Alex planted his hands on his hips and raised an eyebrow.

“At woodworking school, they taught us that if you want a tree to grow into a shape like this, you have to start molding it when it’s still young. Eventually, the shape becomes part of it...” A beam of sunlight caught Carla’s eyes, revealing a thin layer of tears. “How many years do you think this took?”

“Guys...” Arthur pointed with his free hand without taking the camera off Carla. “That door over there is open.”

He only saw the world through the camcorder’s tiny screen.

Alex opened the door just wide enough to stick his head inside. Then he turned, leaned back against it, and grinned at us.

“Dude, it’s like a laboratory in there. Red stones everywhere, test tubes like the ones at college, and a bunch of weird-ass equipment.”

He swept one hand through the air, pushed the door open again, and stepped inside.

The red stones looked like they were made from the same material as the pendant my father had given me, except they had no carvings. They were darker and cloudier, while the ruby in my pendant was almost transparent.

I pulled my mouth to one side.

A tingling sensation climbed my legs, followed by a wave of nausea that refused to pass.

The room smelled like iron.

The only sound was our heavy breathing.

Alex picked up three round stones. He handed one to Arthur and another to Carla, then kept the third pinched between his fingers as he looked at me.

I knew that look.

He wanted me to take a stand. To do anything other than keep playing the perfect daughter.

But I was tired.

Tired of trying to be the perfect daughter.

I rolled my eyes, grabbed a handful of stones, and shoved them into my pocket.

The others left.

I remained frozen beside the counter, stunned by what I had done.

Then I yanked the stones from my pockets, returned every one of them, and ran after my friends.

Alex was already standing between the trees. He raised one of the stones toward the braided rope.

The stone began to glow.

The hemp snapped taut, then slid into the trunks as though the trees themselves were swallowing it.

Arthur’s eyes went wide. His mouth fell open.

“This Hollywood shit is insane!”

He walked backward through the entrance, never taking the camera off us.

“Dude, did you see the stone light up?” Alex held it in front of his eyes, gripping it tightly. “Fuck. I think I’m changing majors.”

“So they broke in and stole from the place...” The clicking of her pen had grown so loud it was starting to irritate me. “And that’s when everything happened?”

“No. First, Alex tried to steal a kiss...” I sighed and crossed my arms, keeping my eyes closed. “Then the Lion came.”

“Okay. Let’s get to the Lion. We can come back to the kiss later.”

Two quick clicks of her pen.

I sat on the damp grass, warmed by the sun. Carla lay smiling across Arthur’s chest while he kept the camcorder trained on the two of them.

I glanced at Alex.

He sat with his knees drawn up, my head resting against his thigh as his fingers moved gently through my hair. My body was finally beginning to relax after what he had tried.

I pushed him away and told him to slow down.

I still wasn’t ready for that. Not after what he had done.

My body still hadn’t recovered...

Then the animals began to gather.

They watched us as they crept closer, stopping every few steps, wary and sniffing the air. The smaller ones darted around the others, hiding between the larger animals’ legs.

The ground trembled as a massive paw struck the wet earth with a heavy, sodden thud.

Every animal turned in the same direction.

They lowered their heads and backed away, clearing a path.

We scrambled to our feet and retreated until we were pressed against one another.

A roar shook all of Miriega.

An enormous head emerged from among the animals, framed by a thick, gleaming mane.

It looked exactly like the golden lion at the entrance.

Alex, Arthur, and Carla’s knees buckled at the same time—as though a single force had struck all three of them.

They collapsed onto the grass, catching themselves on their hands.

I remained standing.

The Lion approached and roared again.

All around him, the animals lowered themselves to the ground.

Then he took another step toward me and opened his mouth.

The roar tore through the trees and flooded my ears, as though it were crushing my brain against the inside of my skull.

He stopped and shook his mane. His muzzle wrinkled, exposing two pointed teeth as long as my fingers.

He growled and stepped closer.

The sound vibrated deep inside my chest.

He raised his head, staring down at me, and curled his lips back once more.

Then he lowered himself — and charged.

He leaped.

Paws as large as clay jugs came hurtling toward me, his outstretched body carving an arc through the air.

I threw my arms over my face.

But a streak of gray tore across my vision and slammed into the Lion’s side, knocking him off course.

They crashed to the ground in a tangle of fur and limbs.

The Wolf clung to the Lion’s neck, his jaws locked tight as the Lion reared his head and snarled, thrashing wildly to tear him loose.

Then the Lion drove both hind paws into the Wolf’s belly and sent him flying.

The smell reached me before I saw the blood.

Hot.

Metallic.

They both rose.

The Wolf bared his teeth, snarling as he rolled his head from side to side.

The Lion thundered.

Every other animal pressed its head to the ground.

A Hyena rose, laughing, and took her place beside him. The Lion’s thunder sank into a growl as the Hyena’s laughter deepened into one of her own—almost as loud as his.

Together, they stepped toward the Wolf.

He stepped forward to meet them.

Then more wolves emerged from among the animals.

They closed in with their hackles raised, heads lowered, teeth bared.

The pack’s chorus swept through the garden.

Blood trickled through the Lion’s mane and touched the grass.

My tongue pressed against my teeth, searching for something that wasn’t there.

His heartbeat was so loud that, for one breathless moment, it drowned out every growl around us.

The Lion and the Hyena fell silent before the voice of the pack.

He turned and walked away.

The Hyena followed. But before she vanished among the other animals, she looked back.

Straight at me.