Read Wolf of Stone Page 8


  “I forget your past. Your transgression are wiped from my mind and you are forgiven, Dalton Black. You will face much more evil in this life. You will be reminded of things that you should no longer dwell on. These reminders will attempt to drag you away from me. But you are mine. You do not belong to the darkness. I have given you my light. I have given you a true mate who is a constant reminder of that light. You will fail one another. You will make mistakes but you must be willing to forgive as I have forgiven you. You cannot do this alone, but I can do it through you. Stay with her and protect her from those who would harm her. Shelter her from the storms that are coming. Remind her when she forgets that you are by her side. Your place as her mate should be an example of my place as your Creator. For her, you will sacrifice. For her, you will deny yourself. And for her, you will forsake all others. Let nothing separate you for I have brought you together. You will become one.”

  Dalton knew she was gone before he ever looked up, but he could still feel her presence. She lived inside of him now and a deep, abiding love that filled the cracks that had shattered his heart. For the first time in centuries he felt as though the weight of the world was lifted from his shoulders. The constant pressure on his chest that kept him from taking in a full breath had finally eased. He knew that he still had the consequences of his choices to deal with. He knew that he was a different man than he would have been had he made different choices, but he also knew that he wasn’t beyond hope as he had always thought. He let out a deep breath as he stood and returned to the chair next to his mate’s bed. He took her hand once again in his and braced himself for the memories that would flood his mind as he bore his soul to her, the only one other than his Creator that would ever be able to erase the pain inside of him.

  Jewel needed to know him if she was to be with him. She had a right to all of him if they were to become one and he would give her nothing less.

  The moonlight streamed into the otherwise dark room as Dalton reclaimed the seat next to Jewel’s bed. Her chest rose and fell with her slow breaths, and her skin shimmered like pearls under the glow of the moon’s beams. She was completely oblivious to all that had happened. Even after confessing to the Great Luna, he still felt as though his very presence would contaminate her. Yet he knew now that he could not stay away. Even had he wanted to, his wolf would have never allowed it.

  “You shouldn’t be stuck with me. If the world was a fair and just place, you would have someone gentle and kind, not scarred and bitter,” he confessed to her. His deep voice, though whispered, still seemed too loud in the quiet room. “And yet, little dove, I cannot let you go. I cannot allow someone else to have you.” Dalton leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and folding his hands together as he let out a slow, deep breath. There was so much she needed to know so much that he needed to confess, and he didn’t know if he would be able to look into her eyes and tell her. It was a copout, but he knew the only way he would be able to tell her about his past was if he didn’t have to see the disgust in her eyes as he spoke.

  “I was born Dalton Roan Black,” he began, “in 1764 to John and Cybil Black. I couldn’t have asked for two more loving parents. Like most werewolf mates, they only had one child. We were members of a small pack in a village just outside of Salem, Massachusetts. Back in those days, large packs in North America were rare. Owing to the superstitions of the people during those times, we were mistrusted and hunted in larger cities. It was much safer to live in small communities. We had to be careful and not come across as too different, or odd. Anything that was different was perceived as evil, so it was just our family and three others in our pack.” He paused as memories of his childhood flashed in his mind—fishing with his father, baking bread with his mother, running in their wolf forms with their pack under the light of the moon.

  “Everything was good in my life until the witch hunts began. We were all paranoid, but we thought we were staying under their radar. But one night while we were sleeping, witch hunters captured my father, mother, and me. We woke up chained in an underground cell. If ever there was something I wish I could forget, Jewel, these memories are it.” His jaw tensed as he told her about how the men talked about torturing him and his family in order to get a confession of witchcraft out of them. As he described the torture that he endured at the hands of Gwen and her goons, his hands fisted into the sheets on her bed as his body relived the pain all over again. He didn’t want to taint his mate with such filth, but he also didn’t want any secrets between them. So he told her of the many times Gwen had attempted to seduce him, only to then punish him for his lack of response to her. Dalton revealed things to Jewel in the quiet of that room that he had never shared with another. It was like opening a metal door, its hinges corroded with decades of rust and age, as his mind delved into the bowels of misery he had kept locked away.

  “I wished for death,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotions that he never showed anyone. “Every night after Gwen left me, my skin crawling from her touch, I begged the Great Luna to take me and end my torment. But I woke every morning still alive. I began to feign being weak so they would quit giving me so much of the drug that they thought suppressed my so called magic, and eventually I was able to call my wolf. I escaped the physical prison they held me in, but I was no longer the man I once had been.” Dalton’s jaw clenched as he struggled with how to continue. How would he tell one as pure and innocent as Jewel about the abhorrent things he had done in an attempt to forget his past? His head turned at the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, and he knew he had just been saved from humiliating himself until another day. He stood quickly and leaned over her, blowing gently on her face and neck. “Keep fighting, little dove, I will not be far,” he whispered before turning and leaving through the window just as quietly as when he had entered.

  ~

  Jewel tried to move as the words spoken by the deep voice penetrated her mind. She knew that voice belonged to a male named Dalton. She had heard Sally discussing him with Costin. The despair and loneliness that laced his words broke her heart. He was convinced that he was beyond forgiveness and beyond repair. But what he didn’t realize was, if a person even bothered to think such things, then it was not too late. It wasn’t until forgiveness and repair were no longer in someone’s vocabulary that they needed to be worried about being lost forever. But then if they were at that point, they generally didn’t care.

  “I can hear you!” her mind screamed at him. “You aren’t the sum of your past; don’t let it conquer you.”

  She wanted to comfort Dalton and to remind him that he was no longer trapped in that evil prison, and Gwen, whoever she was, could no longer hurt him. But she knew that would be a lie. Memories, though they might not be able to physically harm the way the reality does, could still continue to damage the soul. It was painfully apparent that Dalton was still battling his memories, and they were still wreaking havoc on him. She didn’t know why he had chosen to share his pain with her. He spoke to the others that had been in the room of her being ‘his’, and she didn’t know exactly what that meant, but she knew that whenever he was near she didn’t feel so lost.

  Unfortunately, right now, she was lost. Her mind had retreated as far away from consciousness as possible in order to escape the torture she had endured at the hands of an evil woman. Jewel had tried to be brave, tried to endure just five minutes more, but she had failed. She had simply wanted the pain to end. Now she was stuck in her own body, unable to communicate or move. She could hear everything going on around her, but could do nothing to let them know. Sally was so broken over not being able to help her and it tore Jewel up inside. Her only comfort were the times when Dalton, with his wonderful, deep, rich voice, came to her. He was sad, miserable even, and yet she craved his company. As he left her now, his words lingering in her ears, keep fighting, Little Dove, I will not be far; she wanted to beg him to stay.

  “Please don’t go,” she pleaded. She was afraid that if he never ret
urned, she would never find her way back.

  ~

  “He’s been here again,” Costin said quietly as he and Sally entered the room where Jewel lay. Two weeks had passed since the confrontation between the other males and Dalton. Costin had not been fully convinced that the male was ready to accept his mate, not at first. At first he thought it was more that Dalton couldn’t stand the other males being near her, which to Costin was understandable. He hated it when other males, friend or not, were too close to his Sally. It was a wolf thing, as he had told his mate many times; it would never change. But Dalton had returned every night since, and though Jewel, according to Sally, had not moved any closer from the depths she had retreated to, she did look better. Costin could smell Dalton on her, all the way from the other room, which told him that the Beta had been giving her his blood as Sally had instructed. He could only imagine how difficult it must be to share something so intimate in a house full of other males and with a mate that was totally unaware. Awkward.

  “He’s doing what is best for her,” Sally responded to his thoughts. “How can it be awkward to do something that you know could save your true mate’s life?”

  “You know how intimate sharing blood is,” Costin said with a wicked glint in his eyes that brought a bright blush to her face.

  “Yes, but he is doing it in the context of healing, not, not…,” she stumbled.

  “Not what, Sally mine?” he asked as he slowly stalked her.

  She held up her hand to stave him off. “Behave, Costin,” she warned. “And you know exactly what I mean.”

  He shrugged noncommittally. “Perhaps, but it so much fun to see you get so embarrassed over our love life.”

  “If you don’t behave there will be no love life to get embarrassed over.”

  Costin’s grin widened even further. He shook his body in a faux tremble. “Oooo you know I love it when you threaten me. Keep it coming, baby.”

  Sally couldn’t help but laugh at him, which was one of his favorite sounds. “You’re such a pervert. Now get out perv so I can tend to Jewel’s cleanliness.”

  Costin’s grin fled and a frown took its place. “I don’t like leaving you in here alone; can’t I just turn my back?”

  “If Dalton came in here and undressed to get a sponge bath, would it be alright if I stayed as long as I turned my back?” she asked sweetly.

  Costin snarled at her, but she wasn’t the least bit intimidated, nor would he ever want her to be. “Fine, I’ll go. But I don’t like it.”

  “Noted,” Sally said as she shut the door behind him.

  Dalton heard the door close to Jewel’s room as Sally’s mate left. He didn’t blame the male for not wanting to leave his mate. Dalton hated leaving Jewel but he wasn’t in control of his wolf enough to be around males he didn’t know, or others that he did know and didn’t like. He let out a low rumble. He was usually more patient than this, but when it came to being near Jewel, he found that his patience ran very thin.

  He could hear Sally’s movements, but knowing that she was going to be bathing Jewel and tending to her needs, he refrained from looking in. He desperately wanted a glimpse of his mate. It had been nearly twenty-four hours since he had seen her last. Needless to say, he and his wolf were more than ready to lay eyes on her.

  “You can come in.” Sally’s voice came from just inside the window. He was surprised that he hadn’t realized she had moved closer to him, or that she had opened the window, but then he seemed easily distracted as of late.

  “She deserves privacy,” he said as he stepped back so that he could look at the healer.

  “I’m not going to strip her naked, Dalton.” She sounded exasperated with him as she stepped back giving him room to enter. He simply stared at her, not moving any closer. She let out a sigh. “I will keep her covered. She relaxes when you are near and when she hears your voice. Come in and wash her hair, or is that somehow improper?”

  The look in Sally’s eyes made it very clear that she wasn’t going to let up until he did what she asked. Like the other males, Dalton found that it was very hard not to acquiesce to a healer’s request. Letting out his own growl of irritation he jumped through the window effortlessly, his tall frame causing Sally to have to tilt her head back to look up at him. He found it interesting that she wasn’t afraid of him. There weren’t many who were not intimidated by him, and most of those were very powerful Alphas.

  Unable to stay away from her any longer, Dalton turned from Sally and moved silently towards Jewel. His heart beat painfully in his chest as her scent overwhelmed him. He wanted to touch her, wanted to run his fingers through her hair and bathe her in his own scent. But he didn’t like an audience so he kept his hands to himself.

  “Here,” Sally said from beside him as she handed him a basin of water that had steam rising off of its surface. She laid a washcloth across his arm and held out a bottle of shampoo. “I’ve laid a towel on the floor to absorb the run off so don’t worry about that; just make sure you rinse it well or it will irritate her skin. Redhead’s tend to have very sensitive skin to anything with chemicals in it.” That was all she said to him as she went about gathering things and humming to herself.

  He stood there for several more minutes when he finally realized that Sally had no intention of saying more nor allowing him to avoid his appointed task. He grabbed a small table and pulled it toward the end of the bed where her head lay. The headboard had been removed to make it possible to sit behind her. Taking a chair he sat down and stared at the beautiful tresses that framed her face. Her hair was shorter than what he thought he would have wanted on his mate, but then the cute bob suited her.

  “Males have been killed for less than touching a female’s hair,” he told Sally as he took the brush she had laid on the table and began to gently run it through Jewel’s hair. He could have told her that her mate would probably attempt to kill him if he tried to touch Sally’s hair because like many other forms of touch between mates, touching each other’s hair was sacred, intimate, and reserved for only one another. He could have said much on the subject, but he made it a point to only speak when there was no other option. He felt that he owed Sally for caring so diligently for his mate, and so for that he would make an effort. He felt like a whole sentence was a pretty good effort.

  Sally let out an un-lady like snort. “Why am I not surprised? Was it something that involved one male breathing in the general direction of another’s true mate?”

  That was all either of them said as Sally began her ministrations and Dalton finished brushing Jewel’s hair and began to pour water onto it until all of the strands where wet. As his fingers massaged the shampoo into her hair, he found that he very much like the pomegranate smell of the soap that blended so well with her already sweet scent. He realized in that moment as he cared so intimately, regardless of what Sally thought, for his female, he wished he could speak through their bond. He wanted to share with her just how beautiful he found her. In a world where all he had seen for so long was black, grey, and shadows, for the first time in centuries he was seeing color, and it radiated off of her.

  Dalton longed to tell her how her scent called to him and his wolf and that he couldn’t wait for the day when he could wrap her in his arms and keep her safe from all of the evil in the world. It didn’t surprise him that he was willing to actually speak so much to his mate, for her he would do much more than that. He was about to tell Sally that he would need more water to rinse her hair, but when he forced himself to look up from Jewel, he saw that Sally was gone. He looked over at the bowl and found it was full, and there were two other bowls that had been added. He rinsed her hair, careful to keep the water from running down onto her face. Once he was sure there was no trace of soap left, he gently wrung the locks out and then dried them with the towel Sally had placed beside her on the edge of her pillow.

  After once again brushing her damp hair, Dalton found himself remembering something his father had taught him long ago. As he ran
his fingers through the short locks his mind jumped back to that evening in the quiet of their home, sitting by the fire talking as they always did.

  “One day you will have a mate, Dalton, and it will be your privilege to care for her,” his mother told him as his father brushed her hair. The affection which his father and mother showed one another was nothing they ever kept from him. They were very open about their touches and words of love. Every night Dalton’s father would brush his mother’s long locks as they sat in front of the fire and then braid it until it was like a golden rope down to her waist.

  “What if she doesn’t like her hair braided?” Dalton asked when his father had motioned for him to come over and learn what seemed a complicated task for his large hands.

  His mother laughed quietly. “Every woman likes her mate to tend to her hair. It is special and a right that only he has.”

  “I can only teach you so much when it comes to caring for your female,” his father said as he undid the plait he had just finished and then handed Dalton the brush. “And this is one of them. Your true mate will be pleased to find that you can care for her in such a simple, yet very considerate, way.”

  Dalton’s mind returned to the present as he found himself trying to separate the strands into three sections, but Jewels hair wasn’t quite long enough for a braid. That didn’t matter to him. If all he did was brush her hair for her, or run his fingers through the silky strands, that was enough for him. Dalton stared down at her and wondered if Jewel would be pleased that he could braid her hair. Would she want him to touch her in any way at all after everything he would share with her? Though he had been back every night since the confrontation, he had yet to share any more of his past with her. Instead he found himself reading to her. Sally had begun leaving books beside her bed as a not so subtle hint, especially since the first time she had done it, she had also left a note on the top that had read, she loves to read…why are you still staring at the books, dummy? Read to her. Dalton had frowned at the piece of paper, but then he figured it could have said something much worse considering the healer didn’t seem to like him much at the moment.