The Werewolf's Redemption

"I'm leaving," she said, as tears streamed down her face. "You don't have to say the words before I actually know what you are thinking."

"How much of a disgrace I am, and how it would be better if I didn't accept the invitations to every event you had to attend. How it would have been better if I hadn't been born!"

"Eva, no," her mother said as Eva stumbled back, her back wet from the pouring rain that had also found its way into the house.

"It's true, and you know it. I haven't turned, even though I'm twenty-one. We get the questions every single time someone comes over or we leave this house. And I see the look on your faces-" she looked from her mother to her father. "The look of pity and irritation.

Sometimes annoyance and rage. I know you wish it was me who had been killed on that hunt instead of my brother. Well, you know what they say-" she laughed bitterly. "It's never too late for a werewolf to replace an offspring. Let me not stop you from having more children that you can be proud of."

"Eva. We love you. Yes, it's hard on us but it doesn't mean we want you to go," her mother begged.

But she could see that it was only pity. Her mother-the woman who once told her that unformed werewolves had no place in their society.

Her father, face hardened. He never said a kind word to her again, after her fifteenth birthday passed and she didn't wolf out. He never once defended his daughter when her mates and even juniors mocked her.

Eva knew he hated her existence.

She took one last look at them - at the family she once knew, the place she had called home for the last two decades, and the community that never once opened its arms to her.

It would be the last time she would ever see any of their faces.

"For what is worth, I wish you happiness. Even though I know I might never be happy, I still wish you happiness."

With that, she faced the pouring rain, falling with a vengeance that seemed to denounce the ostracized child, and walked away.

•••

Adrian bolted upright from his bed, chest heaving. The light in his room came on the next second, and he shielded his eyes from it.

"Fabian, how many times have I told you that I absolutely abhor light?"

"Sorry Master, but you had a bad dream again."

"And I am not ten. You can stop running into my room anytime you hear me breathing like a stuck pig. I'm sure I can handle waking up and eventually going back to sleep."

Fabian, a middle aged man with a man bun, smiled.

"Sure, but what would be my use then?"

"Tending to the house? You are my butler, aren't you?"

"And your only friend. Which is why I should be by your side, when you have nightmares about your mother."

"That's why she's my mother," Adrian replied, but there was a small smile on his face. "Also, she has been haunting my dreams since I was ten. I am a twenty three year old man."

"Still not as old as I am," Fabian refuted. "I will make you some tea. As you like it," he added and left the room.

Adrian sighed and fell back on the bed, rubbing his face. He could play off the nightmares as much as he wanted when he was awake, but sleeping was a whole other thing.

He had the nightmares - twice every month, at the start and at the end. The settings were always different but one thing remained constant. His witch of a mother. After his father had burnt her alive, she began hunting his dreams.

At first, Adrian was adamant that his mother was still alive. He would not go to sleep for fear that she would kill him in his dream, until his father took him to where the burnt body was locked and forced him to look at it.

Adrian never said a word after that day. He forced himself to go back to sleep each night, and on the nights she came- he woke up screaming, drenched in sweat.

Eventually, his father could not stand his cowardly son and moved out of the house, straight into the arms of another woman who already had a daughter. His last duties as a father was to set up a fund for his son and hire Fabian.

Adrian tried to avoid running into his father at events, even though it was hard to do sometimes, since werewolves had a wicked sense of humor. For a juicy article, they would send invitations to both father and son, pitting them against each other.

Over time, he began rejecting the invites and confined his activities to work and staying at home. So Fabian was right- he had no friends. But he also did not need any.

Humans were fickle, and werewolves were no better. Besides, nobody wanted to be friends with a werewolf who couldn't control how often he turned and when, or what happened when he wolfed out.

It was as though his mother placed a curse on him before she died- probably out of spite- because his whole life consisted of one misfortune after another. The only perk was...well, he could afford anything he wanted.

Fabian came back with the tea, a black jug on a silver tray. He placed it on the bedside table.

"Here. You should drink some."

"Of course. You're going to keep nagging until I do," Adrian rolled his eyes.

"It is good for you."

It was, actually. Somehow, the earl grey tea prepared by Fabian was the only thing that helped him go back to sleep easily.

Adrian wasn't too sure that his butler kept it strictly tea, as he never drank alcohol and couldn't know if that was the secret ingredient, but he had been hooked on it since he turned twelve.

He took a sip, and downed the entire contents in one go before realizing that it was, in fact, scalding hot.

"Fuck! Fuck!" Adrian scratched his tongue, "are you trying to make me mute?"

"And what would that achieve?" Fabian slightly raised a brow. "As much as I like silence, I don't think I can bear spending an eternity without hearing any other voice apart from mine."

"You do realize I have a cook and a cleaner?" Adrian reminded him.

"You do realize none of your employees speak unless spoken to?"

"Oh?" Adrian hadn't noticed; because he wasn't interested in their personal affairs either. He compensated them generously for the work they did, and they retired to their homes at the end of the day.

And he only had to see them twice a week. It felt very rude to ask them questions when they didn't have any other relationships outside of work.

"It's because of you," Fabian said. "Anyone coming here for the first time would think this house is owned by a vampire."

Adrian clicked his tongue, the burn from the scalding tea finally cooling. "It seems we have switched roles, Fabian. What do you say? You become the master of this house?"

Fabian grinned, showing fangs. "I would love nothing more than to have an erratic werewolf, who might turn and kill me in less than two hours, be my butler."

"Turn?" Adrian was puzzled for a second, before he glanced at the drawn curtains and through the windows to see the moon slowly rising. "Oh shit. I forgot to mark the calendar.

"Quick, Fabian-" He pressed a button at the side of his bed, and a pair of chains fell out. "Make sure I'm secured."

Fabian took the pair of chains, but he didn't do anything with them. Instead, his eyes held all the irony.

"You know these chains won't do anything. I'll put up a barrier around the house and leave clothes at certain places, so you can find your way back in the morning, without doing the walk of shame."

Adrian snapped his fingers.

"You got it. You'd better go now. Heaven knows what I'm going to break this time around."

"Already leaving," Fabian said, already heading to the door.

Adrian got up from the bed and walked to the window, sighing.

Werewolves loved the moon. All the ones he knew. It gave them the unbridled chance to be their true selves, to hunt without consequences; to howl without worrying about curious humans.

They bragged about the hunts once the sun came back up, and the very few times Adrian had been in a gathering after the full moon, he was fed an earful of tales.

But, maybe not all werewolves loved the madness. Maybe because the ones that did, didn't understand what madness meant.

What it felt like to feel your flesh tearing and your mind slipping. Each time he changed, it was torture. From having all furs to losing his mind and getting trapped in a state of endless hunger and thirst.

•••

Eva stumbled through the bushes, coming out on a lonely, deserted road. Her legs were bruised from thorns catching her pants, and her head hurt for miles.

But she could not stop. She had to get as far away from home as possible, and staying in a motel wouldn't cut it when she knew that there was a large chance that she wouldn't wake up.

Because, as it turned out, werewolves didn't like other wolves abandoning their packs. They were immediately labeled outcasts and rogues, likely to reveal their secret or return to kill their kind.

Her mother and father hadn't done anything to stop the pack of wolves they set on her hind. Escaping them had taken a lot of hiding and a guess that something like would happen once she tried to leave.

But, her throat was terribly parched, and Eva wasn't sure if her legs would keep her up for much longer. Finding some place that didn't have the scent of werewolves was imperative and very urgent, especially since she didn't want to pass out and get eaten by a pack of wild animals either.

As she kept on dragging her feet, she sighted something in the distance. It looked like a house, but a haunted one. A structure from books that she read in libraries, where ghosts made their dwelling place.

Ghosts didn't hate werewolves, did they? And if they were ghosts, they wouldn't be able to touch her body. She would put up with the eerie sounds until morning.

Eva kept her eyes trained on the house in the distance, begging her legs to keep on moving. Relief wasn't far anymore, she thought, feeding her mind with an illusion of optimism.

Once she got settled down for the night, she would get a decent night's sleep. Then tomorrow, she would see about changing her name and her appearance. A wig, some eye contacts, a new sense of fashion, and a fake accent should do it.

She also had the address of someone who could give her a fake driving license burned into herto memory. Something she used to impress her friends before they all found she wasn't like them and wanted nothing to do with the "unturned."

She would get a job at some place where greasy hands exchanged bucks-since werewolves thought of themselves too highly to frequent places like that-and work her ass off so she could afford a room.

Then... who knows what would happen. Maybe she'd wolf out and join a pack in another country.

All of it was just wishful thinking that could only happen if she was able to survive tonight.

The house was protected by a weirdly structured fence, but she didn't take too much notice of it. Eva caught a few holes, placed her wobbly legs through and jumped in.

To her death.

There was no way on earth she would survive the creature whose eyes shone with madness as it stared at her, before it began charging in her direction.

Killed by the same kind she spent hours running from.

How comedic.

Eva opened her eyes to darkness.

There were a few patches of light shining on various parts of the room, but the rest was engulfed by darkness. It took only a couple of seconds before she remembered what had happened, and she bolted off the bed, hurrying to the door.

She tried the handle, but it refused to bulge. Noticed the key in the hole, but turning it clockwise and anticlockwise didn't help either.

Panic filled her as she ran back to the window and threw the curtain open. It was daytime already, even though the clouds hadn't yet parted for the sun to shine. She tried to open the windows. It didn't bulge.

Eva banged her fists against the window with all her might, forcing herself to remain calm and not lose it. Whatever happened last night, at least she wasn't dead. If she could break through the glass and find a way to get out of here, she could find somewhere safe.

When banging didn't work, she began searching the room for tools that would break the glass. She opened drawers, opened the wardrobe, and searched under the bed, but aside from the sheet she slept on, there was nothing else in the room.

Not a single thing.

The bed frame was also made from iron, so she couldn't break the wood and use it.

Eventually, she collapsed to the ground, tired and worn out. Whoever captured her last night must have thought it through, considering that she would try to escape as soon as she woke up.

What did they want with her?

It had to be the werewolf from last night. The one that tried to kill her just before she blacked out from fatigue. Why didn't it just kill her when she couldn't fight back?

Maybe it wanted a struggle. Some werewolves enjoyed that; watching their prey writhe and beg for mercy before they tore them apart.

But it only happened when the full moon came out. Which meant the wolf was probably going to keep her and feed her until the next full moon.

The door opened at that moment, and she shot to her feet, pulling the bedsheet on instinct to act as a weapon.

"That's not going to do anything," a young man said, walking in.

Eva wound a part of it around her palm and closed her fingers into a fist.

"Whoever you are, whatever you think you want to do with me, I assure you that I won't go down without a fight. Before you kill me, I will get a few licks in."

The young man seemed a little confused. "Kill?" Then he smiled. "Is that what you think my plan is? To kill you?"

"Isn't that why you didn't eat me last night? I've heard of werewolves keeping their prey till when they are ready to feast, but I thought it was just hearsay. Seems like you're proof."

She took a fighting stance as he came closer, her heart beating faster. If he actually killed her now, she wouldn't get any licks in. Not with the way her legs were trembling.

Thankfully, he only took a few steps before stopping.

"I-I didn't mean to hurt you yesterday. I wouldn't have, if you hadn't trespassed into my property. That's what the fence is for.

Luckily, Fabian smelled you and came to your rescue. But that isn't why I decided to keep and take every escape tool in this room."

Eva was confused. She couldn't tell if his words were a ploy to make her drop her guard or if he truly meant them.

"What then? Why else would you keep me here? I don't have anything to offer you."

"Not true. The plan was to let you leave once you woke up, but I happened to come into your room late at night, after I changed. You were muttering a name in your sleep. Freya Waite.

How do you know her?"

Her eyebrows raised.

"Freya Waite? I don't know anyone who bears that name. You shouldn't take things people say in their sleep seriously. If that's all, I would like to go home now."

"Oh, no," the young man said as he moved closer, and Eva took a cautious step back. "You cannot call that name and surname and just expect to leave. You know something and you are hiding it.

But it's okay, because I have all the time in the world and you are not leaving until I say so."

Eva was beginning to think she had walked into the house of a psychopath. It was the only way she would be held hostage for saying a name in her dream. A name that she couldn't remember.

And there was the big chance that this man- this man whose hair looked like he'd been electrocuted- needed her to say what he wanted to hear.

"What does the name mean to you?" She asked. If he wanted to hear her admit it, she would as long as it got her out of here. But she needed to know if it would actually give her freedom.

"You are missing the point."

She crossed her arms. "What point? That I might have said a name in my dream, a random name and you're holding captive because of it?

Look, if I did, I don't remember. And the only way I might remember is if you tell me why it's important. Maybe that will jog something in my memory and I'll find your answer."

He seemed to be considering it for a while, but in the end he shook his head.

"No."

"No?"

"I don't know if telling you is the key to giving her power over me. Who knows what kind of agreement you've gotten into?"

Eva didn't feel the need to remind him that she had no idea what the hell he was talking about. He wouldn't believe her.

"Fine. If you're going to keep me here, can I at least get something to eat? I'm starving."

"Oh-"he seemed to have lost his steely glare for a second. "I didn't think about that. I'll get you something."

She shrugged.

He turned to leave and had gone a few steps closer to the door when he stopped. And turned.

"You know what? I must have misheard. I'm sorry for keeping you here and you're free to go."

Oh, she wasn't buying that.

"Just like that? Is this a ploy to have me think I'm free and then you hunt me for sport? Relish in my attempts at calling for help? You might as well give up and end me now, because I know no one is around for miles.

I checked."

He shook his head.

"I don't hunt people for sport and what happened last night...shouldn't have. But, I have a proposition-

There we fucking go. She knew it.

"You look like someone who needs a home. I believe you ran away from yours? As a gesture of my deep regret at keeping you here, I'm offering you a job."

"As what? A trap?" How did he think she'd ever say yes? What kind of...Eva had never been so perplexed at trying to figure out a person in her life.

"No. As my secretary. Until you get back on your feet. You don't have to stay here and I know you won't, considering the sort of first impression I gave off-

"Yeah no kidding," she rolled her eyes. "If we're done here I'd like to get going, please?"

"Sure. But, if you ever change your mind, Fabian will let you in. Just...don't come at night."

The offer of working for a werewolf who could kill her at any moment, but wasn't looking forward to doing so anytime soon was beginning to sound like a peak offer to Eva even before she had gone far from the house.

She kept glancing back every now and then, as the house shrunk in the distance.

What did she really have going on for her? The werewolves weren't going to let up on chasing her anytime soon, and there was no telling how many of them were out there.

She couldn't mask her scent- only wolves that had turned could- and there was no human capable of protecting her. Going to meet a witch was out of it because they always wanted something in return.

Like a couple of years from her life span, a couple of years in servitude or half her soul. You could never tell which, because they never divulged. It was like making a deal with the devil.

The only bet was she could keep on changing everything about her, never staying in a place for more than a month or two, picking up odd jobs here and there until they show up.

Eva stopped. And sighed.

And fuck, was she hungry.

Pérhaps he was telling the truth.

Nah. She couldn't believe that. But she was desperate. And desperate people did stupid things. Some lived long enough to tell the tale.

So, she dragged her feet and patted her grumbling stomach all the way back to the house that actually looked like a castle. Walked up to the door and knocked.

A middle aged man with a man bun opened the door and smiled when he saw her.

"The master said you'd be coming back."

Master? He had to be Fabian.

"Can you tell your Master that I said yes? And can I get some food?"

Fabian opened the door wider and stepped to the side so she could come in.

"Absolutely. If you'll make your way to the drawing room, I will have breakfast ready for you in no time. Adrian will see you after breakfast in the other living room."

Eva almost snorted at how easy he talked about a drawing room and another living room. Talk about being wealthy.

If he was going to kill her, at least her last days would not be spent eating greasy fried food from a leaking pack.

Breakfast came earlier the expected and boy, was she surprised. It was like a three course meal for three people, only she was the only person seated at the end of a very long table.

At least until the person who had tried to kill her hours ago, walked in.

"Hi," he sat down.

"Hi," she replied, guarded.

"I hear you have agreed to my offer?"

She shrugged. "Yeah. I still don't think you're not going kill me, but I want to do a lot of things before I die. So, let's come to an agreement. You allow me do at least fifty things- not your everyday stuff- and then you have my permission to do as you see fit.

As-" she continued before he could say anything- "long as it's not a painful death."

"I didn't mean to try to kill you."

"That's what they all say."

"Sincerely-

Eva didn't interrupt, even when he paused. What was she going to say?

"I would like you to be my secretary. I own a group of companies that specialize in publishing, wine making, fashion, entertainment and system analytics. While I don't oversee the daily affairs of every subsidiary, I like to be informed.

Meeting with investors or checking up on underperforming companies isn't my thing, which is where you come in."

"You want me to meet them on your behalf?"

"Oh, no," he shook his head. "Fabian does all of that. I need you to assist him."

"He doesn't look like he needs any help," Eva replied with a bite of sarcasm, and then felt a little guilty when she remembered how he smiled at her.

"Fabian isn't someone who would call for help, even in the face of death. He's...been handling a lot for too long."

Eva shrugged. "Sure. How long is this supposed to last?"

"Until you get back on your feet. You determine when you want to quit."

Now she was certain that he was going to kill her at some point. "Let's stick to the agreement. Draft up something and have your lawyer sign it. As long as I haven't done the fifty things on my list, you are not allowed to kill me."

He sighed. "Sure. I'll stick to the promise. I'll have my lawyer draw up a contract, and we can proceed from there. Would that be okay?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Where do I stay, though? I mean, if you want to keep me here, then that's fine, but I'd rather not be here."

"Do you have that much of a say in where you sleep and where you don't? I could have you sleeping on the streets for being so picky," he said.

Eva shrugged.

"Not that I really care about sleeping on the streets, I'd appreciate it if you could throw in a blanket. A tent, if you could be that generous. I dont't want to be eaten by wild animals in my sleep."

He clicked his tongue.

"There's another property along the road. I'll have Fabian give you the keys so you can be sure I won't come to harm you at night."

"Thanks?"

She did not know what to make of the gesture. But it made her feel a little safe.

"I'll let you get to your meal now," he said, rising to his feet. "Oh, and one more thing-

Eva had taken a spoonful and was about to put it into her mouth, so she cocked her head to let him know she was all ears.

"Don't come here at night. As much as I don't want to kill you, I might not be able to stop myself."