Page 29 of Father of the Wolf

Her guess had been confirmed. She was suddenly very glad he was behind the wire. “You are a werewolf,” she said in an accusing tone.

“I can feel your fear, but there is no reason for it. I will not hurt you.” He paused. “Werewolf is one name we have been called, but it’s not one I prefer.” He gave a mental shrug. “So, do you plan to kill me now?”

Shaken by his question, she studied him as he sat before her. His expression was more one of acceptance than of fear. He actually expected her to try to kill him, after she had worked so hard to save him. The thought dampened her fear and brought her curiosity about him back to life. “Well, as I don’t have a pitchfork and torch handy, no. I don’t plan to kill you at this time.”

“Then may I have the juice? It is not poisoned, is it?”

“Oh, I forgot. Sorry. And no, it’s not drugged.” To prove her point, she took a sip from the glass before pouring the juice into a bowl and sliding it past the wire.

He drank it gratefully. The juice was soothing and cool to his tender throat. “Again, I thank you, Hope.” He drank the rest of the bowl. “I may have a slight fever, despite your excellent care. I believe my body is trying to purge the poison I was given.”

She refilled the bowl with her juice. “How did you wind up under the wheels of Steve’s station wagon? And how were you injured so seriously to begin with?” She sat down on the upturned box.

Athair wondered about how much he should tell her, and decided she deserved to know the truth, or at least most of it. He would have eventually died from the poison and injuries if she had not found him. Considering the strength of the poison, even he would not have healed after losing so much blood. She had saved his life and he wanted to speak with her honestly. But where should he start the story?

“I was poisoned by members of another clan. When I did not succumb quietly, they attacked me. I had no choice but to flee. They chased me until I met with your friend’s wagon.”

“By clan, you mean… there are more werewolves? If you don’t prefer to be called werewolves, what should I call you?”

He nodded. “I am a Valàfrn. And yes, there are others.”

“Why have I never seen one of you on the news before? Where do you live? How do you stay hidden?”

Should he even try to answer that? Even if he did, it wouldn’t be true for any but his own clan. “I do not really know what the others do. I have had little to do with your people or other clans in a long time.”

“Do you hunt people? Or howl at the moon? Will you let me watch you change? Oh, wait.” Her face reddened. “You’d better not. You don’t have any clothes.”

Well, she’d certainly warmed to the subject! Her curiosity was better than her earlier fear. Then again, maybe it wasn’t. Fear simplified so much and allowed for a little dignity. Maybe he should show her his teeth just to remind her. He considered that, and then rejected the idea doubting it would have much effect on her through the thick wire cage. Well, maybe he could do something about the cage eventually. For now, he wanted her trust.

She waited impatiently for him to tell her more, giving him a chance to look her over. Her light brown eyes never quite met his. She radiated uncertainty and reservation like an injured doe. Hope was pretty in a soft, gentle way. Although her heart-shaped face had beautiful features and perfect balance, he guessed that she would probably not think so. She wore slacks and a long sleeved blouse with a neckline that hugged her chin. Nearly all her skin was covered. Hidden, protected. Why? He sensed the reason was important, if only to her.

“Why do you hide your skin?” But he regretted the question as soon as he saw her withdraw. Like prey hiding her vulnerability from a predator? Instantly, he sent her soothing waves of healing. Healing was one of his stronger talents, but in his weakened state he could do little more than soothe her.

Hope sat very still. “I was burned many years ago. I cover the scars,” she said simply.

“Maybe I can heal them for you in return for your healing me.”

“You can heal others?” This time she looked into his eyes with excitement. “Please, tell me how.” Somehow, he knew it was her interest in healing others that drew her attention. She didn’t believe he or anyone else could ever make her whole again.

“Most of my people can do some healing magic. I am the second strongest healer of my clan.”

Hope thought this might not be an understatement, considering his wounds were healing many times faster than she’d expected. Could he teach her any of his skills? Certain illnesses or injuries were sometimes beyond her abilities. If a scrap of knowledge could save even one life, it would be worth her time and risk to learn more about it.

Perhaps he really could help her scarring or better yet, repair the ravaged muscles in her damaged legs. It was a wish she had given up on long ago. Or at least, she thought she had. She was getting ahead of herself. She needed to know him better before she allowed herself to build any dreams. “How can I hear you? Are you telepathic?”

“A few of my people are true telepaths and can speak to anyone in the silent language.” He hesitated and looked at her with a canine form of a puzzled frown. “I am not one of those. I can only speak to those to whom I have grown close. Mainly, my family.”

“I can hear you. And we just met.” She brushed aside this strange occurrence. It was no odder than believing she had been attacked by a werewolf or was now holding this polite conversation with one. “Is that how I could tell you were awake and hungry?”

“We are nearly all empathic. Most of us are very empathic.” He went on to explain the difference. “Telepathy controls thought. Empathy controls emotion.”

“That explains a lot.” Hope said thinking about her irrational behavior of late. “You have been controlling me.” With a grin she said, “That will have to stop.”

“I have not controlled your actions. I never took your choices from you; I only encouraged your help.” This seemed a fine line to Hope, but he must have thought the difference was significant.

“Will you let me out of this wire room?” Athair asked, He was in rather serious need of a place to relieve himself. He may be trapped in the body of an animal, but he still had the sensibilities of a man. “I will not hurt you. You may trust me in that.”

“I recently saw an attack by one of your kind, I think. How can I trust you? How do I know it wasn’t you who killed the girl or one of your friends who attacked me?”

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