Kierra

"The curse I spoke of was cast by a Vampire who had taken a fancy to my wife. Vampires do have abilities of their own depending on what bloodline they come from, but this was too advanced. Probably a Witch that had been the one to do it at his 'request'."

The scorn is heavy in his voice, the depth of hate a deep well. He stands and paces in front of the couch while I look over to Bastion, who has a sad expression on his face, his empathy on par as he watches the wolf walk restlessly. My own has my heart going out to him, feeling both his loss and rage.

Asher stops at the very spot he had been laying, his ears going from twitching around to laying back against his head, lip lightly curled, but no sound emerges. I take it he really hates Vampires, at least one in particular anyway. I so badly want to ask questions, but I don't want to interrupt and chance him not talking anymore.

"By all rights and blood, I am a Werewolf, but the curse that had been cast took my human body from me. I can no longer take Were or human form. Not even the in-between shift is open to me. I will live forever as a four-legged animal."

My hand goes over my mouth, eyes wide. His back is turned to me, and now I know why. There was anger in his telling but I could detect no sadness. Twenty-five years already as a wolf. Being human, well, human-ish, but no longer being able to walk as one. It's amazing he's still sane and not feral.

"The undead bastard had fallen in lust with my wife, my mate, who was also a Were. She wanted nothing to do with him and spurned him many times. He took offense."

Asher snorts, the sound coming from him seems almost painful to me.

"He and I had come to blows many times, neither of us being able to kill the other due to uneven matching; the interference of others. Werewolves are stronger than Vampires in our Were forms unless we're outnumbered. Other factors can play a part, like age and experience, but this time he'd gone to magic."

He lowers his haunches and sits, still facing away from us as he looks towards and out the window tucked between two bookshelves. The sun has risen, but this time of year it's on the opposite side of the house. The window he's looking out faces the west.

"That night he came with a group of younger obstreperous Vampires. They were the ones who set the fire. I'm not sure if he meant for her to die or not. Werewolves, as a rule, can take a lot of damage and keep going, being very hard to kill."

Asher turns and looks back at us, his bright aquamarine-colored eyes colliding with my own and causing that low burn once more. I move both legs under me, clenching my thighs together. I don't understand what's going on with that whole thing, but it seriously needs to stop.

"Even weakened, she still had the fortitude and strength of a Were. None of that matters though when fire overtakes you. The blaze was tremendously hot and rose fast. I'd wondered if one of the bloodsuckers had an affinity with fire. We'd been trapped within the house. I had made it out by jumping through a section of the wall that had collapsed, but before she could follow me...the roof in the room we were caught in had collapsed."

He pauses once more, I can hear the pain of a loved one lost in his voice. Even after 25 years, his devotion for her still shows. I can feel his agony as he feels it, and it's squeezing at my heart.

I never could sit still for very long. I'm already feeling the antsiness and need to move yet trying to remain prone for the telling of his story and not fidget. The pain in his voice as he whispers in my head makes it even more difficult. Avoiding Bastion's curious looks as I shift once more, my legs stretch out in front of me again while rubbing my hands against the material over my thighs.

The black wolf's far off gaze once more focuses on me. I’m completely failing, coming off as extremely rude and oblivious to his pain as I’m twitching around. I feel it lessen by small increments as more amusement comes across instead. Watching me squirm around is apparently funny. I frown and finally look over to Bastion.

His eyebrows raise as a snicker escapes his mouth. I push out my lip in a mock pout, heaving a putout sigh. Clearly, I'm not very subtle. I shoot an apologetic glance to Asher as I try to convey my need for movement. Slipping from the couch and walking around it till I lean over the back, I face him once more with my elbows propping me up.

With his head cocked to the side and ears pricked forward, he makes a chuffing sound in his throat and shakes his head. His soft laughter plays across the pathways of my brain, leading a tingling through my body, an awareness. I stifle it, leaning from one leg to the other as I motion at him to continue.

"I can stop you know, just have to ask."

He offers, but I shake my head. I honestly don't want him to, I'm just jittery, can't hold still.

"Well, she was caught in the blaze, and I was burned pretty badly. Being dragged from near the house to the feet of the one who orchestrated it. Don't remember too much more of that night; I was in and out of it for a while, but one of the times I was cognizant, I was still on the ground in front of him while the curse was being chanted. As if the pain from the burns and smoke-filled lungs weren't enough, his spell had forced me into wolf form. Doing so in the most painful way he could, I'm sure. I passed out after the force of cursed magic blowout had put out the flames."

I see Bastion frown, the talk of magic and curses seeming as unbelievable as the reality of supernatural creatures being alive in this day and age. Or at all for that matter. I'm still trying to wrap my own brain around it. I mean, I'm grasping it, hard not to when you're right in the middle of it, but my brain is still trying to stay in denial.

I picture what he had said about the blowout of magic. The force of power must have been tremendous to put out a raging fire. Is all magic like that, or because it was from a curse, and therefore against nature? Guessing at the against nature part really, but it sort of makes sense.

"When I awoke I was alone, in front of the burned-out shell of my home, and unable to go from wolf to human. I looked for her body, but they had taken it. I had gone to her pack for help, but it was made up of cowards. Ones not wanting to get their hands dirty or have anything to do with the Vamps, while other Clans and Packs were having their own issues to deal with. Since her body had been removed by supernatural beings, there was no threat of exposure, so therefore considered unimportant."

I can feel the heavy waves of scorn coming from him, the distaste of even knowing those who could care less for one of their own. I become angry as well. Granted this was twenty-some years ago, considered another time, but still. If you ask me, the whole meaning of 'Pack' would be to help and take care of each other.

So far this new world I've become a part of is one that I know will piss me off to no end. I'm already rebelling at the thought of any encounters I may have with others of the wolfy variety. Brows draw together while a frown adorns my face, gearing up for questions.

"The whole body part I can sort of understand, not wanting to be found out and all, but what about the fire at your house? Someone had to have noticed by sight or smell that there was one. Or even later on being found when any city officials come calling for whatever reason. The whole time I've lived here, I've never seen anyone come out to look at that property."

Or this one for that matter, but I keep that to myself. Asher nods his great black head.

"It was hidden, buried. Covered up from what I've been able to gather. Supernaturals are everywhere; you just didn't realize it. You will now. You'll be amazed by how many are hidden among the officials running the cities and even larger areas of the states."

I tap at the back of the couch and stand upright, a thrill of fear running through me. Everything starts to become too much. My heart pounds as sharp nails dig into the frame, the wood creaks under the pressure. Even that causes my heart rate to spike. I let go and move away.

The front door is opened to pull fresh air into my burning lungs...it isn't enough. Pushing through the screen, I walk out. Grasping ahold of the railing that surrounds the porch, a flash of the picture I had found of Faline sitting with Tigger on this very railing burns through my memory.

I fall to my knees as the world whirls around me, my mind going several miles a second as my insides feel like they're flipping, making me nauseous. I gulp in air and try to keep from hyperventilating. Another panic attack when I'd been able to go years without having any.

Arms fold across my belly as I rock back and forth, eyes squeezing shut. In the process of holding back tears when I feel a soft touch at my shoulder. Not an animal touch, but that of a hand unsure of its welcome.

My eyes open to see the pale and small battered boy standing next to me. Even that much is a milestone to one who shies away from human contact. I stay on my knees as we look at each other. His sad eyes riveted on mine and vice-versa. A sharing of alike pain and misery. Both having recently gone through a traumatic event. Told the world isn't what we knew, that monsters really do indeed exist. Aside from the normal human trash ones, as if that weren't enough.

We stay like that for what seems hours but is only a few minutes. My face relaxes into a smile, showing that I'm done with my episode. He returns it and backs away so I can stand.

Asher had stayed in the house, probably realizing that I needed a bit of space to take everything in. It'll be easier for Bastion since he's younger, hasn't really developed himself in the 'old world', as it were, so he has nothing to cling to. My mind flies back to my sister as I cross my arms and lean my hip along the railing, looking off into the trees.

The coolness of late autumn never bothered me before; now I barely register it. Can tell that it's chilly, it just doesn't bother me or my bare toes. It just feels even more refreshing than it ever had before. The typical sounds of the several blue jays in the area play through me, mixing with the stubborn swaying leaves that have yet to fall.

The breeze makes the dried, loose fallen ones dance along the ground, mixing the wonderful scent of pine as it wafts around me. It's a comfort; the combination of it with decaying foliage, wet leaves, and dirt smells like sheer heaven as it helps calm me. The aroma of the woods in late Fall.

The sights and smells around me help calm my mind and to a small extent, my body. With finding out that there are higher-ups that aren't human makes me wonder if they'll be of any help to finding my sister, being ones that I can actually go to with what happened and what's going on. But that hope dies quickly as my thoughts recall what happened with Asher's wife. I start chewing on my lip.

There are the Packs and Clans he mentioned, but they hardly seemed to come across as helpful either. My brow furrows for a minute as I think of something, my voice calling out to the wolf to join me. Bastion has pulled himself up onto the railing, sitting Indian style with his back against one of the thick wooden pillars. I had them built that way specifically for that reason.

His slight shivering catches my attention, leading me to whisper a plea to Asher in my head - without even realizing it - to bring out the blanket that I had dropped in the bathroom for Bastion. Knowing that if I ask the boy if he's cold, he'll say no. Some macho male thing in the brains of all those that share his gender seem to have.

He pushes through the screen, padding out with the material clenched between his teeth. It drags, but I don't care as I watch him hold it up for Bastion to take. He reaches for it, but holds it in his lap stubbornly, avoiding putting it around him.

The thought of what I'd just done has me halting for a moment. I just talked to another, in my head, and he heard me. Not sure how to feel about that, so I push it aside for now.

I raise an eyebrow at Bastion, expression otherwise blank. I have a feeling he knows I'd asked Asher to grab it for him. With a scoff, he finally wraps it around himself, no longer able to hide his shivering. It swallows his thin frame.

When I'm upright, the railing reaches my waist. Asher standing next to it shows he's taller. If I recall what I've read when I studied them for my art, he's a Gray Wolf, or Timber wolf, if you will. The average normal one reaches only about two feet, almost three. So the railing height would be about level to a normal wolf's shoulder.

Asher, on the other hand, a not normal wolf, stands around three and a half feet at his shoulder. His shoulders reach just under my chest. That size is not including his head or ears. The average weight of a normal male was, I believe, ninety-five to ninety-nine pounds. The wolf standing next to me weighs at least double to triple that. Simply put, he's mighty freakin' huge and long.

Leaning against the railing like I am makes me feel small next to him, so I pull myself up onto it. Which really gives me no more height, but now I'm sitting, so I have a reason to feel small. It's the whole illusion thing we do in our head to explain things, at least that's my reasoning. Five-foot-four inches is all I can claim, so a little illusion helps me immensely.