Chapter Eight

Elle's POV

I regarded the narrow two-story Georgian house with squinting eyes, dread dripping down the back of my throat. The house was a historical landmark in Acuteraden and had been left untouched for decades. It had slowly collected dust along the cracks in the walls, and now the building stuck out like a sore thumb.

It was squeezed between two streets, the front yard forced into a 'v' as the road forked into two. Ochre paint peeled from the exterior walls, and the large sash windows were boarded with cardboard, crumbling under the constant rays of sunlight.

White ornate gable trim had been added to the house during the Victorian era, but they had lost some of its majesties now that they were covered in dark cobwebs, the paint peeling away sorrowfully.

'The family residence of the Clarke sisters was infamous for many reasons. Housing deceit and treachery upon both humans and werewolves, the household was run by Master Andrew Clarke, who allowed his sisters, Elizabeth and Anne, to reside during the eldest's divorce to a monstrous man.' Carmon looked across the group, her eyes lit with mischief as she spun the tale with her twist of events. 'The sisters were never ones to get along, but Master Clarke trusted their misalignment to benefit him, forcing the girls to police their actions. Neighbours held complaints of the torturous noise that echoed from within the hallowed walls, and guests were rare.

'It is said that one day, as Elizabeth was resting in the garden's pavilion, her sister brought tea, and the two girls had a joyous luncheon. That night, Elizabeth fell ill, poisoned, and passed before eve broke, leaving Anne the sole resident within the manor.'

The tourists looked dubiously at the house, disbelieving the story as it occurred, but my skin prickled listening to Carmon's story. I knew she spoke a version of the truth, it was prettied up with several omissions, but they only aided the mystery of her story.

The house harboured dark secrets that few knew about, the kind meant to be forgotten and never spoken of. Even Carmon wouldn't voice all the horrors that had occurred in the hundred years that the slaughterhouse had been in use.

Picked off one by one and in mass selection, werewolves had once feared for their lives in the small town of Aucteraden. The Clarkes had gotten their wealth when a werewolf's head was comparable to a gold crown's. Fear latched its icy fingers around the hearts of humans, pulling strings like a puppeteer, while werewolves lived in terror.

Bones were laid to waste under the manor, sealed in chambers that had chains shackled to the stone walls. Hundreds of rooms used to imprison werewolves, where bones still wore silver manacles like glittering fashion statements. With the help of an excavator, it would take only minutes to find evidence of the abattoir that had been ignored for decades.

'The servants quit as tales of spirits haunted the man. Elizabeth's own greed sanctioned her to the manor's shackles, but Anne ignored the ill-fated warnings, choosing to stay. It was a night not unlike like tonight when Anne clambered from her bed, blood seeping from her eyes as her sins appeared before her.' Chills shook my body as a howling wind roared through the trees. 'She made it as far as the stairs before Elizabeth took her vengeance, pushing her to her ultimate death at the bottom, her sins written upon the walls in the blood that ran from her eyes.

'If you listen closely, you can hear the girls fighting inside the manor. Some have claimed to see lights within Elizabeth's room flickering as shadows walk past the windows.' It was one of Carmon's greatest lies. She was setting them up, hoping that later that night, when we were celebrating the Pansélinos festival, they would look up at the haunted window after she had snuck into the manor and lit the lamp in Elizabeth's room.

I continued to study the manor as Carmon answered questions, her voice a soft mummer to my thoughts, which drowned out the silence. Bitterness and anger churned in my stomach, my palms tingling with disgust.

How much hatred do my ancestors have to hold onto that they'd become bloodthirsty in their beliefs?

The sisters had been horrid, but their brother had been the heart of the monstrous entity. Their parents had been raised similarly, and Andrew had raised his kids to be so. I came from a line of murderers.

Did the blood that ran through my veins, the same blood that ran through theirs, make me just as inherently evil?

A hand clamped down on my shoulder, and terror spiked through my body as Carmon led me away from the house. 'Come on, Elle. Time for the party.'

I couldn't stop the tremor rolling across my skin, goosebumps pimpling my arms as I hauled myself into the van. Shuffling towards the back, I was glad there was a seat free. I stared out the window, my warped reflection peering back at me in the darkness, long shadows drawn across my face. I cringed against the starless night, feeling the horrors of my family's past following me, stalking me through the night.

I tucked my feet beneath my legs and clenched my eyes shut, banishing the thoughts back into the night. You are not like them. I told myself, forcing myself to believe it.

Eventually, the van shuddered to a stop, and music wafted through the wind, twisting through the door to whisper in my ears. The voices that followed warmed my skin, and excitement bubbled up, overpowering the misery of doubt that was slowly poisoning my spirits.

I was the last out, hesitantly dropping my feet onto the forest floor. The sight before me was joyous, dozens of werewolves dancing around the main fire, singing songs in their native tongue, while others met in small clusters, talking and laughing together.

My eyes worked on their own accord, searching for someone in the crowd. It was almost too easy when I landed on Kaden, as though I had known where he was all along, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

He leant against the trunk of a tree, the fire reflecting in the dark pools of his eyes, staring back with wide eyes.

My heart took off, racing, pulsing through my body, my skin alive, vibrating quickly. My breath stuck in my lungs like taffy, and I clutched the doorframe of the van for support.

Whatever he'd been saying had died on his lips, hanging between him and his Beta, his face blanked, but then a glaze of horror flashed through his eyes, and he turned away, continuing his conversation as though nothing had happened.

Released from the hold of his gaze, the air leaked shakily from my lungs. To ground myself in my reality, I closed my eyes, listening to Carmon as she rushed through the rules, warning the tourists to be back in the van by ten.

'Elle?'

I opened my eyes and watched Jacobi break through the crowd, uncertainty furrowing his brows.

I grinned, pushing myself from the van's edge and launching into his arms. 'Congratulations!'

He grunted, taking my weight and spinning us in a half-circle and away from the tourists who twittered together. 'Thanks.' He chuckled, splaying his hands on my back as he pulled me close. We stayed like that for a heartbeat before he pulled back, holding me at arm's length. 'I thought you weren't coming.'

I buried back into his arms, shivering as a chilling gust brushed through the glade, stirring up the embers of the fire. 'You thought I wouldn't celebrate your initiation?'

He shrugged, and I jostled against his chest, the cold seeping through the gap he'd created. 'I didn't want to get my hopes up. I wish you'd been allowed to come to the actual ceremony.'

I pressed my lips straight and regarded his pout with a blank gaze. 'And break pack law? You know they'd never allow me to come.'

His eyes flicked over my shoulder, and he huffed through his nose. 'Yeah. Can't have unmated humans at a pack ceremony.' He led me to the fire. His arm flung around my shoulder as he continued to rub warmth into my arm.

We sank onto the old autumn leaves a few feet from the fire and huddled together for warmth. I showed my hands to the heat, desperate to bring life back into my fingertips, while he pressed his cheek against the crown of my head and sighed.

'When do you think you'll find your soulmate?'

Thinking about it silently, he drew a familiar pattern into the soil with the pad of his thumb. I watched wordlessly as he drew two lines that tangled together, entwining to form a soul-line. I'd inspired the rough sketch with my question, and I couldn't move my gaze from the image as he focused on the intricate design. 'I don't know. Hopefully, not anytime soon. I'm not ready.'

'Do you think I have a soulmate?'

'Everyone has a soulmate.' He said matter of factly.

I sighed, tearing a sun-soaked leaf between my fingertips, studying the flames of the fire as it crackled, spitting embers into the air. 'I know. But it's different for humans. Sometimes our soul-line frays and breaks away. Sometimes we only get a few months with our soulmate, not a life as you do. What I'm asking is, do you think I'll have a soulmate like yours that will stay around forever?'

'I think the fates will be kind to you, Elle. You're too pure for anything less than that.'

My chest tightened, and I wished he were right.