Chapter 1: Acceptance
“Acceptance is the only way out of hell.”
I reread the quote, which had been artfully spray painted on the exterior wall of a small brick and mortar building just down the street from the café where I was meeting friends for dinner. A quick glance at the window display informed me that it was a shop dedicated to the arcane and esoteric arts, and amid all the usual crystals and factory-made baubles, there stood a statue of a wolf howling eternally at a sky that only it could see.
Born and raised during the heady and ultimately final days of the Roman Empire, banished from my home when I was only fifteen after the hideous and tragic affair with my first love due to the wild blood flowing in my veins, and who once believed in the antics of innumerable gods and goddesses, I am not prone to fancy, much less superstition.
And yet….
My feet cross the threshold before I realize what I am doing, and as soon as I enter the shop the smell of incense, essential oils, and dried herbs wafts across my nostrils. With my heightened senses I can easily discern no less than thirty different scents infusing the air, and despite the haunting and softly-muted sitar music flowing from the hidden speakers, there are seven humans currently in the building.
Present company not included.
While I may appear human—indeed, I was born human by all accounts—my family could trace its roots to a once lauded and revered bloodline, that of Romulus and Remus, the original founders of Rome and who, according to myth, were sired by the god Mars himself.
I wouldn’t believe it myself if someone had claimed such a thing, yet the fact remains that Miklos, the first man I ever loved, was transformed into a wolf when I accidentally bit him in a fit of passion. Because he was only human the transformation was irreversible, and he spent the remainder of his life in wolf form unable to change back. I on the other hand, had the dubious misfortune of being a purebred Lupercalia by virtue of my parents, and I could shift at will. More trauma followed this incident, but the long and short of it is that my father banished me from my home after my arranged marriage fell apart, and Miklos and I lived out the next thirty-seven years together in wolf form in the forests that we roamed far and wide through.
My father’s parting words to me was that I would be the ruin of our family and of our species, because there were only so many of us left who were young and healthy enough to breed. The extinction of our race was more or less placed on my shoulders, and at the time I had conflicting feelings regarding this.
Did we have a right to exist alongside humans, and if so, for what purpose?
The passage of millennia had taught me that the Old Ways were no more. The Roman Empire had eventually given way to the ravages of time and of other outside forces that redrew its borders to suit their own ends, and the gods and goddesses we had worshipped had been replaced by a new religion, that of Christianity.
It would have been better that all vestiges of this time and culture had died out too, but as I so well knew, humanity had an indomitable will to survive. Modern civilization still viewed the past with reverence, and the world in which I now lived in had modeled its various institutions after those of the Ancient Greeks, Hamurabi, and many others.
I could walk into any museum or bookshop and see on display there some tangible reminder of the past, and try as I might I had been unable to forget my own. Denying it and running away from it was just as futile an endeavor, and like the quote scribbled on the wall, acceptance had been the only thing that had kept me from going mad, from descending into a hell of my own design.
“Acceptance is the only way out of hell.”
Yes, there was no denying that somehow all these little seemingly random pieces of everyday life were a portent of something, though whether it was favorable or not had yet to be seen.
I bought the statue of the wolf, and as I exited the shop with my newest purchase wrapped in crackling brown paper, I felt a familiar presence sidle up beside me.
“There you are, love.”
The scent of sunlight, suede, and oddly-enough, snow filled the air around me as a warm arm came up and took hold of my waist.
I breathed deeply and felt some of the tension leave me. The constant din of the horrendous and foul-smelling New York traffic and its throngs of pedestrians clogging the sidewalks seemed to fade away, and I leaned into the tall, powerfully-built body next to me. My own frame was petite by modern standards, but the curves of my body molded themselves to his as if we were made for one another.
Given all that I had endured in the past fifteen-hundred years, all of the loss, the sorrow, everything that had driven me across land and sea in search of something I could not put into words but which I felt with an instinct so acute it defied all logic, I knew that what I had once searched for had been found at last.
“Aron! Olivia, over here!”
I glanced down the sidewalk and saw our friends Erin, Sanjiv, and Thomas waving to us amid the crowds milling about. It was just past six and people fresh off of work buzzed about like bees as they shopped for groceries in the little corner markets or strolled into the trendy al fresco cafes and bars. Our reservation was for six-fifteen, and we had just made it.
“Need some help with that?” Aron gestured to the package in my arms, but I shook my head.
“It’s not that heavy. Besides, you know I’m stronger than I look.”
“Oh, I do. It’s one of the many reasons why I love you.” He flashed me a brilliant smile and behind his gold sunglasses his gray eyes shone with adoration. His hair was styled long, a remnant of the 1970s which we were both extremely fond of, and paired with his fashionable suede jacket and custom jeans….
I knew that my pupils were dilating and the skin around my teeth felt constricted and slightly sore, a sure sign that my canines were lengthening with desire. Aron had nothing to fear from this, and with a sharp intake of air, his hand tightened around my waist.
Heat began to build up between us and our individual scents intensified, mixing with one another. No doubt he had scented my desire at the same moment I had scented his, and with a low growl of frustration I forced myself to smile and waved back, acknowledging our friends’ greeting.
“How long is dinner supposed to last?” Aron’s fingers were running up and down my torso and tickled the sensitive skin underneath my ribs, sending delicious tendrils of sensation along my nerves.
“Stop that.”
“Stop what?” I didn’t have to see his face to see the mischievous look in his eye, as he knew good and well exactly what I was referring to.
“People are watching,” I said in between clenched teeth. “Behave yourself or we’ll end up causing a scene.”
“I’ll be a perfect gentleman, like always” he said as he let go of my waist and took my hand instead. He raised it to his lips and kissed my knuckles, his gaze fixed on me. His pupils were fully dilated behind his sunglasses, but thankfully there was so much hustle and bustle around us that no one noticed. “At least until we get back home.”
I stifled a gasp as his teeth nipped lightly at my hand, and with a new swagger in his step he gallantly maneuvered us through the throngs of people right up to the restaurant.
You’ll pay for that.
I hugged our friends one at a time while Aron shook each of their hands. He turned and gave me a sly smile as the hostess showed us to our table whilst chattering on about the drink and appetizer specials.
I certainly hope so.
I shook my head and tried to follow the conversation of our friends as we took our seats at the roomy and spacious booth tucked in the far corner of the restaurant.
Aron removed his sunglasses and set them beside his water glass, and I noted that his eyes were their usual clear gray color. I knew that my own green eyes had returned to normal as well and I ran my tongue along the edge of my teeth to ensure that my canines weren’t visible.
All was as it should be.
Neither one of us was in any danger of causing a scene—time and much caution had taught us that—and as I perused the wine menu for a vintage to accompany my pasta dish, Erin reached over and laid her hand on my wrist.
“I can’t believe that you two are actually going to move out into the country, to Idaho no less.”
“We wanted to get away from the city and go somewhere quieter. The traffic alone is worth going across the country, but Aron found a quaint little cabin in the middle of nowhere. It’s a real fixer-upper and we’re both looking forward to the challenge. Besides,” I winked at him across the table. “He’s very good with his hands.”
“And Olivia’s much stronger than she looks, so we should be able to knock it out in no time.”
“You two have been together what? Five years already?”
Aron and I exchanged a look, but he picked up the conversation effortlessly. “We’ll be together five years this coming September.” He lifted up his water glass and took a sip before meeting my gaze.
Nearly five-hundred years and still going strong.
“So how did you two meet?” Sanjiv set his menu down and reached for some packets of sweetener on the table. “I bet there’s a real story there.”
“Uh, actually it was pretty mundane. We met on a hunting trip.”
Our friends scoffed and shook their heads. “On a hunting trip? Olivia? I thought she was vegetarian.”
“Well, I am now, but at the time we met I was as carnivorous as the next person; I liked my meat red and rare.”
“So what kind of a hunting trip was it?”
“Wild boar.” Aron took a long drink from the beer the waitress set down before him and I did my best to not stare too hard at the smooth column of throat that bobbed and flexed as he swallowed. Such a tender and delicious place to nip and bite.
“I was hunting wild boar near my ancestral home back in England, and out of the blue this lovely and enchanting creature you see before you stumbles out of the woods and literally into my arms.”
There were soft ahhs among our friends, but Aron continued: “Turns out we had been stalking the same boar, a monster by any measure, and we happened upon it at the same time. It nearly tore me to pieces and sadly killed my hunting dogs. Luckily Olivia showed up when she did.”
He stopped and stared off as if recalling the lurid details of such an encounter, which were as fresh in my mind as the day they happened.
Aron very well could have died that day had I not heard the screams of his dying hunting dogs and then finally his own frantic cries as the boar charged him, knocking him to the ground. He had been seconds away from death when I came racing out of the woods, propelled by instinct or pity I could never really recall, and without a thought as to my own safety, I flung myself at the boar and proceeded to tear its throat out.
It had been a bloody and violent scene, and the sight and smell of Aron’s blood on the ground had triggered in me an emotion I had not felt in a very long time: concern.
Apparently we had both been lost in our respective thoughts, because it was Thomas who spoke up: “Oh, come on, you can’t just leave it like that; you have to tell us what else happened!”
You want to take this one, love?
I shook my head and carefully unfolded the napkin from around my silverware. Not a chance. You’re the one who brought up the whole ‘hunting trip,’ but I’ll be happy to join in when it’s necessary.
So we tell the story together just like we’ve handled everything else during the past few centuries?
Everything else. As if our lives together were as simple and straightforward as those two little words.
I caught Aron’s eye and there was a slight flexing of the flesh around them, as if he had sensed my disquiet, which in fact he had. The bond that stretched between us was a strong one and there was very little we could keep secret from one another, and emotions were particularly potent.
Lyvia?
I offered him a wan smile to indicate that I was fine. Go on and tell your story, my lord. Just be sure to give credit where it’s due when it concerns my unwavering heroism and charm.
You mean our story, Lyvia. It’s as much yours as it is mine.
I nodded. Yes, our story.
