12- The Wolf’s Truth
POV Lunara Grimwald:
I huffed, feeling truly offended.
"You, forcing me? If I remember correctly, the one who turned me around and bit my neck was you, of your own free will," I accused.
"I didn’t put a gun to your head and force you to do it. If you can’t control your wolf, that’s not my problem."
He narrowed his eyes, looking at me sideways.
"That doesn’t lessen your guilt."
I curled my lips into a grimace.
"My only guilt was not being able to control my heat."
"Did you forget, little wolf, that you marked me too? Do you really think I’m going to believe any word that comes out of that deceitful mouth of yours?" he said, with so much disdain on "little wolf" that I had to clench my teeth and bite back my tongue.
"My wolf acted on instinct. You marked her, and she wanted to mark you. I had no control over it, just as I imagine you didn’t either."
He turned his face sharply toward me.
"How old are you?"
The question caught me by surprise.
"What?"
"Tell me," he insisted, slowing his steps for a second.
"Twenty-two," I answered, telling the truth. There was no sense in lying about it.
A vein pulsed in his neck and a crease appeared on his forehead as he seemed to grow even more irritated.
"I am three hundred and thirty-eight years old," he said, raising a brown eyebrow. I opened my mouth, perplexed. "I’ve lived with many omegas in heat, so many I lost count. And never, absolutely with any of them, did I lose control. So don’t try to deceive me, because I will discover the truth."
Edric was much older than I had imagined, although in appearance he seemed to be about thirty years old. Wolves usually lived up to five hundred years. The oldest I knew was Alpha Giovanni, who should already be reaching the maximum age.
Our aging was slow and delayed until four hundred and seventy years, and then age advanced, strongly marking the features of old age, until death.
There was also a legend about supreme alphas, said to be powerful wolves who lived up to seven hundred years, but I had never met any of them nor heard of someone who had, so they were treated merely as myths.
I stayed silent, having no answer to give. He would not believe me, no matter what truth came out of my mouth.
When he resumed walking, tightening his grip on my arm, I offered no resistance. Fighting him was close to ridiculous; he would always win. He was older, stronger, and he was an alpha.
We moved away from the main part of the village. I noticed it by the silence that stretched far from the residences, where the frequent presence of people could be felt and heard.
Soon we approached a house more isolated from the others, far from the heart of the village. Enormous tree trunks rose like sentinels around the building, their canopies almost touching the dark sky. The golden reflection of the lights inside the residence illuminated the wooden porch and the large stones that formed the façade. There were huge glass windows, overlooking every angle of the forest.
It was a beautiful house, rustic and powerful.
Edric pulled me toward it along the stone path.
There was a brazier along the way, with armchairs around it. Smoke still exhaled from it, showing that a fire had burned there not long ago.
We climbed the three steps of the porch before Edric shoved the wooden door open and pushed me inside.
The place reeked of him.
I clutched the strap of my backpack tightly, spinning on my heels and losing myself in the house’s exuberant beauty.
The ground floor was one wide open space. A kitchen with rustic wooden furniture and a central island of marbled stone.
Brown leather sofas, a fireplace, television, and a huge glass window giving view to the back, showing the forest. A dining table with a chandelier hanging above it. I saw a door on the right side, behind the sofa and just after the staircase that led to the second floor. It must have been a bathroom.
I craned my neck, peeking through the kitchen windows on the left wall, and spotted a garage with cars.
If I knew how to drive, it would be easy to escape from Edric.
I wanted to go to the bathroom, take a shower, and rid myself a little of his scent that clung as much to the environment as to me. It wasn’t unpleasant, but at that moment, it was offensive.
Edric strode over to the dining table and picked up a cell phone, beginning to type quickly with his fingers.
"I… uh… can I go to the bathroom?" I asked, shrugging my shoulders.
He didn’t even bother to raise his eyes to me as he answered:
"Shut up and sit at the table. Don’t even dare approach my sofa, filthy as you are." His fingers slid across the screen swiftly.
I knew what a cell phone was and a little about how they worked, because some people in my former pack had them, like my father. But I had never touched one; it was strictly forbidden for me and my sister. Our father used to say that God hadn’t given wings to snakes for a reason, and he followed that legacy.
I stared at Edric, standing on the other side of the table, his shirt torn and stained with both my blood and his. My mark on his neck was reddened, with dried blood around it.
He was an idiot, but he still managed to be beautiful, even when he was a chaotic mess.