Chapter 2
Death's Werewolf Nymph
I woke up and felt tears dried up on my cheeks. I hated feeling like this, so weak and childlike. I looked in the only mirror that was in my room. How I wanted to tell her how strong and beautiful she was. How I wanted to cheer her up. I wanted to appear like I was strong. I definitely didnât want to be sulking like this because of a man.
But it wasnât just about a man. It was about the fact that I wasnât good enough. I never wasâ¦
I got dressed in my dark blue dress with another slit on the leg. I was watching myself in the mirror more than usual today. Magdalena wouldnât wear this dress. Her dresses wouldnât have cuts like this, because she didnât need the movement. She glided like a feather when she walked. And her hair wouldnât be left undone.
They always said that nymph trait was to be gracious. I didnât really get the trait of being gracious, or lady-like.
How was it that we came out to be so different? We were raised by the same people. Fed the same. Dressed the same. Taught the same. Why werenât we the same?
I walked downstairs.
Everyone was around in the small kitchen, working like bees, setting up the breakfast table. I would have helped but they were already done and dad and Magdalena were already seated. She looked absolutely gorgeous today, like she was glowing, filled with joy. I noticed how she had dressed up a little more than usual. Made her hair a little different than usual.
I was about to sit down but my mother walked in front of me. âWhy canât you ever put your hair away from your face?â she said while putting them away with a hair clip. She was close enough that I could smell her lily perfume.
âIt will be easier and nothing will get in your hair. Plus itâs more ladylike,â she explained, patting me on my cheek.
Her hair was always up in a braided bun. Her dresses were always well taken care of, clean, always ironed. She even looked similar to Magdalena. They both had slender noses while I had more of a button nose. My cheeks were fuller then theirs but hey both had crystal blue piercing eyes that most dreamed of having.
I was never sure from which I took my looks from. A had a little from both of my parents but I didnât really look like any of them.
I didnât want to argue with mom. Not today. So I just left the hair clip in my hair. I plopped down in my chair letting out a huge breath in defeat. I saw my mother giving me a disapproving look and after rolling my eyes a hundred miles back I straightened my posture.
âMagdalene. When will you be back?â dad asked her. Back? From where?
âI donât know, depends how much help his parents need,â she said but I didnât understand what she was talking about.
âWhere are you going?â I asked her while putting butter on my toast.
âTo Adrianâs familyâs house, they are having renovation in their home and I offered to help them,â she explained with a wide smile on her lips. They only met yesterday for an hour. What kind of plans were they already making?
I knew they were matesâ¦but that was somewhat boring⦠whereâs the secret meetings? Flowers by her doorstep? They just met and now they live together?
I put the toast down on my plate. âBut what about Vincent? You said youâll go this time, âI asked her. But my father spoke first.
âWhat about him? He is just an old man,â he said carelessly which made me scrunch my face in disgusted look.
âHe is sick!â I raised my voice at him. couldnât keep my mouth shut when he talked like that about Vincent.
âYou go to him every day now. He wonât get better by you just being there. He will die any minute now. Do you want to be there to see it?â He was the one now raising his voice at me. I always knew that my dad did what was best for my interests. But how could he not see how hurtful his words were.
I didnât usually get so emotional but dad knew he was dying and he knew he was my friend even if he tried to deny it yet he still knew it and had to cut me saying that Vincent will die. I knew that. Vincent knew that. But it wasnât a thing people just casually said.
My vision got a little blurrier with the tears that were trying to get out, but I couldnât cry, didnât want to cry. I had promised Vincent that his death wouldnât make me sad too much, but I realized that I was failing that promise. âHe is my friend.â
He let out a bitter laugh. âFriend!â he looked at mom next to him. âDid you hear that honey? Friend,â he looked back at me. âDonât you know what people are already talking about you? They think you are his call girlâ He said bitterly.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. âI donât care what they are talking about. I, Vincent and the moon goddess know that itâs not true. I hoped you would know it too!â
He looked at me clenching his jaw. âYou will not shame Boswellâs surname!â He said banging his fist on his tableâs side and even mom and Magdalena flinched in fright.
I felt the corners of my mouth wanting to go down in frown, but I needed to fight back. I banged my own fist on the table. âThen maybe I need new last name!â
That seemed to absolutely tick him off. âMaybe if you would be more like Magdalene you would actually have friends, and maybe you could find someone to finally marry you!â He screamed but after that it was complete silence.
I spitefully smiled at him slouched down in my chair.
âBernard,â my mom called him out quietly, I could hear guilt in her voice.
âI apologize, that I couldnât be a better daughter,â I said to them and slowly stood up. Without looking back I walked out of the house.
I made my way to Vincentâs house. I pulled out that stupid hair clip and threw it in some empty box that was left on the ground. I didnât care what anybody said or thought of me. Vincent had been the best teacher and friend I could wish for. He had been my tutor since day one. I had never met a man smarter than him. He taught me everything my father should have.
I would always spend most of my days at his house, I never cared what other people may say and Vincent didnât either.
Vincent was never angry at anybody because he understood that everyone had their reasons to act the way they did. He always helped others, he always gave away everything he had. He had the money to live rich and luxurious but he never did. I was never sure where he got all of his fortune, but I knew he got it from the human world and he also spent it in the human world buying things for the pack.
Our Alpha wasnât okay with any of us going to the human world, but he couldnât exactly keep us on a leash. And Vincent traveled freely with Alpha knowing and he never said anything. But it was a shame that even with our Alpha knowing how much Vincent did he wasnât still put up to be a higher rank.
Majority of his life he had spent alone caring about others more than himself, he had no other family members. His mate died young many years ago, I never even met her, thatâs how long ago she died. They never managed to have a family together. And he never sought it on his own.
When I turned twelve people started to talk badly about my common visits to his house and thatâs when my parents, especially father, started to do everything to make my visits rarer. When I was a toddler and played at the park with him no one said anything. But when I started to grow into a woman they started.
No one understood our friendship, the value our friendship had.
I knocked on Vincentâs door and his caretaker Jasper opened them. Dressed in his usual blue jeans and button up shirt. Jasper was a middle aged man from our Silver Starâs pack. This was his job in the pack, he looked over elderly people in need. âGood morning Meredith,â he smiled at me and let me in. It wasnât a good morning, but some people said that I had the talent to mask my emotions. Once I learned how to do it I decided to use it to my advantage. If less people saw my emotions the best for me. âItâs good youâre here Vincent was asking for you.â Jasper explained.
âBut I was here yesterday evening,â I said to him.
âHis memory is getting worse, and I explained that you did come, and after a while he remembered.â He said and I made my way upstairs to his room while he stayed behind taking care of the house.
He practically lived there lately. Taking care of Vincent and everything his house needed, watering the plants, dusting everything. Even running his errands that Vincent usually did himself in the human world. Jasper still kept his business in high secrecy and I was sure that he was paid by Vincent accordingly.
I entered Vincentâs room and it seemed cold, it wasnât cold like I wanted to shiver, it was cold in a way how you thought coldness felt like. It wasnât physical, it was mental coldness. I looked at Vincent who was laying down reading a book, covered in a checkered knitted blanket. When he saw me I saw a smile emerge on his face.
He looked bad, extremely tired, like he needed to sleep this thing off except all he had been doing was sleep for the past month. âGood morning Vincent,â I said to him as cheerfully as possible.
âMy light, my rain, my thunder has arrived,â he said like always. âWhy so sad?â he asked.
I made sure to make my expression as if I had no idea what he was talking about. âI am not sad,â I said, flashing a smile at him.
âI am just dying. It doesnât mean I am a fool.â He said and chuckled at the end with his grey mustache moving from his exhale.
He never said to anyone that he would get better, he knew exactly what was coming to him. He never let anyone tell him that he will get better. He didnât want others to lie.
I sat down in an armchair that was next to his bed specially meant for when I came over, even if Vincent said I came to visit more than enough I could never shake out the thought that I was not doing enough. Now I never knew when it could be my last visit. âWhy do you speak of death as if itâs nothing?â I asked him instead.
âOh I donât think death is nothing,â he said in a raspy voice. âDeath has its purpose and we mortals need to accept it. Death is not the ending, but just a small part of how you test oneâs worthiness of new life,â he said.
âYou are not afraid of dying?â I asked him.
He laughed it off, âWhy would I be? Fear doesnât stop death it stops life, yet too many people suffer from this illness. When they think that dying is the worst thing that could happen. Darkness is much scarier than death.â
âDying is darkness.â I mumbled under my breath looking down on my hands in my lap.
âWhy do you think that?â he asked.
I took a pause, I didnât exactly know how to answer this. He always asked me questions that tickled my brain. I never could ask him any question that made him confused. But he was great at asking those kinds of questions.
âWell it definitely is not light, there is a reason why not so many people love dying,â I explained, but still he had this smile. I had known him long enough to know how he acted. This smile meant that he was not quite happy with my answer. Wasnât satisfied with what I said. And that always made me rethink our conversation and think back on how I could have answered it better.
âHave you ever met death?â he asked but didnât wait for an answer. âIf I put my mind to what I want death to be, not what I donât want death to be. I have more reason to hope even on death bed.â
âit isnât just about death⦠as is ⦠its.â I wasnât sure how to ask him. Didnât entirely know what I wanted to ask him. âArenât you afraid to leave everything?â
âI am fine with going.â He smiled. I hated that he made it seem like he was actually just going away and not disappearing in dust.
Only now he put his book away on the bedside table. âBut I hate to leave you alone.â
He looked at me, studying for a while in silence.
âWhy are you sad?â he asked again. And I could say that I was sad because he was dying but he would know that that would not be the reason why I came here sad. I didnât want to bother him with my problems.
âAs of right now I donât much care about my life, or how it will turn out. If I could save you by giving you my life, I would,â I said without getting into much detail.
âWhy do you think my life is so much more worthy than yours?â he asked with his eyebrows scrunched up.
âI donât think my life has any price,â I explained but added a chuckle at the end. I didnât want him to think that I was depressed. âBut you, you have helped so many.â
âMaybe thatâs why I need to go.â he said. âlet you take over caring for others.â
I shook my head at his silly argument. âI will never be able to do what you do.â
âDonât say that. You have been my friend for the last twenty two years, I have told you everything I know. Donât waste it, give it back to people. You are not ready to disappear now.â
I let out a heavy breath and ran my hands over my face. âCan we maybe not talk about dying now.â
He purposely let his arms fall to his sides mimicking my heavy breath. âWe can talk about anything you want. Tell me? What do you wish to talk about?â He asked me. I didnât have anything in mind but I for sure didnât want to speak of death.
I shrug my shoulders at him. He took his time to look around the room and after a while his eyes fell back on me. âHowâs life at home?â
First thing that popped into my head was Magdalena. How happy she is now. âMagdalena found her mate yesterday, Adrian.â I told him, and he smiled alongside me. âSheâs very happy. The happiest Iâve ever seen her,â I smiled down on the ground, getting lost in my thoughts. I was happy for her⦠but⦠there were things that made me sad. More like brought out the sadness that should have been already slowly fading.
âIs that why youâre sad?â he asked.
I instantly shook my head. âWhy would I be sad? I am truly happy for her.â
He kept watching me, not saying anything. He knew. He always knew⦠most times even before me.
I looked away from him. âI didnât really realize how it would make me feel. I never thought about it.â
âDid you never think she would find her mate?â he asked.
âIâ¦â I wanted to say something but got caught.
âDid you hope she wouldnât?â he asked.
My eyes bulged out at that statement. âI would never!â was he actually accusing me of wishing ill for my own sister.
He pulled his lips in a thin line. He murmured something under his breath but took back his book instead.
I straightened in my chair waiting for him to say something. He opened up his book and started to read. He looked so occupied now. Making me think that I shouldnât even say anything. âDo you really think I would hope that my sister wouldnât find her mate?â I asked, but he didnât answer me. He didnât even react to me. âVincent!â I called out and this time he lowered his book and looked at me.
âI think you donât entirely know what you feel right now. But itâs wrong, and not to anyone else but to yourself. You are sulking because you never found your mate. Until now you were fine. Because Magdalena had not grown up yet. You never would wish your sister bad but you wished you wouldnât be alone, you wished you had her with the same situation because then you would have some kind of excuse as to why it was like that.â My voice completely shut down and lips sealed, I couldnât speak anymore. âBut now you know itâs not the case and you are left wondering why it happened to you. You might never find out why, Meredith. Itâs the cruel truth of the world that bad things happen to good souls. But your wrong in this time is that you let yourself get broken by it.â
He reached out to hold my hand. I didnât realize how his words hurt me until I hesitated to give him my hand. But I gave in anyway. âI feel awfully that you were taught that mates are the only thing you should look forward to in your life. But it had never been like it. There are so many things for you to achieve and do that could make you fulfilled and happy⦠you have all the choices to make, Meredith. You can live the rest of your life wishing for something impossible. Or you can go and find your own way. There is never just one path.â He tightly squeezed my hand in his.
âwhat ifâ¦â I said in a raspy voice, that I didnât realize I was shutting down.âWhat if thatâs what I want to find out the most? ⦠Why?â I asked in a low whisper.
He nodded. âI canât tell you what to do, or what to feel. If that is what you feel most passionate about⦠find out. But do something to find out. You wonât do anything sitting around and sulking. The answer wonât find you, you have to find it. Go out, find a way to get your answers.â
I always listened to him. I always felt like he knew more and it was always true. And I always listened to what he thought. âBut you donât think there is one?â I asked.
âDo you think there is?â He asked me back but I didnât answer. âI think your path has been crossed to be different from the rest. Itâs not entirely a bad thing⦠if you donât make it bad. But if you keep staying in the happiness that was not given to you. You might never find the happiness that you could have.â
He said and just then Jasper entered. âTime for sleep,â he announced.
Vincent gave me one last smile and leaned back to his bed. He needed to take his sleeping pills three times a day, thatâs how he stayed alive for so long for the past month. They werenât exactly sleeping pills but the effect of all the herbs and remedies made him sleepy.
âIâll wait till you fall asleep,â I said as he drank the pills. The first few times he refused that I sit around and wait but when he got used to me not listening he stopped saying that.
I stayed back in my seat even after he was long asleep. Rested my head back and closed my eyes. Just thinking. Daydreaming.
I closed my eyes and listened to nothingness. Until I heard something. Someone was walking at a slow pace behind me. It knew it wasnât Jasper because he had walked out earlier.
I looked behind me and shot up from my seat from the sight in front of meâ¦