Ch-11

Chapter 11

Klara tugged at the loose fitting garments, feeling exposed with the light fabric. The foreign style exposed much more of her body than she was used to. The light cotton shirt had a large slit down the front which would have exposed Randolf’s powerful chest and though the trousers were loose on her, she imagined they’d fit snug on him. It was hard to imagine Randolf wearing something so revealing. Yet, she couldn’t help envisioning it. Klara groaned, shaking her head. She had to stop herself from thinking about him that way if she was going to go through with her plan to leave and keep him safe.

The garment slipped again and Klara swore softly under her breath as she clutched the shirt closed. It was infuriating! But it was better than her blood stained, tattered dress that Randolf had tried to throw away. Klara couldn’t bare to part with it completely, it having been her mothers. Luckily there was a small section of the garment that was reusable, turned into a sash to help fit the stolen clothing better. Klara felt horrible for taking his things and running like a thief, but she couldn’t endanger him any longer.

She knew Gertrude was on the hunt for her, and would return sooner or later. It was best if she got away from Randolf, spare him the discovery of his other form. He had yet to confess his secret, but Klara pieced the clues together. She’d thought at first she’d imagined how fast he’d run when he carried her, or even the magic glow of his eyes when he coaxed her to sleep. Randolf kept himself in check, but once in a while he’d let a growl slip or his teeth would sharpen to wolf-like canines. Klara thought it was strange that she felt even safer with him, knowing he wasn’t an ordinary human. Perhaps it was because he understood the dangers of the human world and how they would condemn their kind. Was it possible he was actually the wolf from the story Gerone told?

With a groan she sat down on a fallen log, panting heavily from exhaustion. Though the external wounds had mostly healed, her bruised ribs and weak muscles wouldn’t allow her to go as far as she wanted.

“What’s this?” Klara whirled around and found a large built man leaning against a tree behind her. “Tired of him already?”

“W-who are you?” Klara whispered, wishing desperately she’d taken a knife as well. The man eyed her and grinned, showing sharpened canines.

“I’m an old friend of Randolf’s.” he said, coming closer. “Tell me, why are you running away?”

“I’m not running away…” Klara gasped as he approached suddenly and tilted her chin up.

“I don’t like liars.” He muttered, his yellow eyes flashing.

“I’m not a liar!” Klara protested hotly.

“Then answer me honestly.” the man replied. Klara smacked his hand away.

“It’s none of your concern. Now leave me be.” She turned to go but he appeared before her again.

“On the contrary, it is my concern.” He walked around her slowly like a vulture. “I’d hate to think that the first woman he’s cared for in decades ran away, breaking his heart.”

“Cared for…?” Klara blushed heavily, her heart thumping in her chest. He laughed.

“I see the feeling’s mutual.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Klara whispered. “I put him in danger.” He reached out and ran his fingers through her hair.

“Well, if you’re set on leaving him. Why don’t you come with me?” He leaned in to her ear. “A powerful wiccan like you, needs a strong mate.” Klara drew back in horror and he laughed darkly. “Oh yes, I know about your abilities. As soon as you came to this forest,” he advanced as she backed up. “things have been very…erratic.”

“You’re wrong. I’m not powerful.” Klara whispered softly. He pinned her to a tree, knocking the wind out of her.

“Like I said, I hate liars.” He growled. Klara struggled but it was futile. “One way or another, I will have your power. Now what’s it going to be, sweetheart?”

“No.” Klara snarled.

“Very well.” He covered her mouth and nose, knocking her out.

When she came to, it was twilight and a foul smell filled her nose. “I was wondering when you would wake up.” The man mused as he sat near a low fire, turning a red hot blade in the coals. Klara coughed heavily. “Burning oregano, always seems to affect your kind.”

“That stench would affect anyone.” Klara muttered. He laughed. “You’re wasting your efforts. You’ll get nothing from me.” The man sighed.

“I don’t know how he put up with you. Your lies are tiresome.”

“I’m not lying!” Klara yelled, then cried out in pain from her arms. Looking behind her, her wrists were bound in chains hooked to a thick tree root. The metal burned her skin and sent pain up her body.

“Now, the iron wouldn’t bother you if you didn’t have witch power.” The man turned the blade again, the metal nearly white hot. “Pity I’m going to have to mare that beautiful flesh to get your heart. You should have chosen better.”

“I don’t know what you plan to gain.” Klara muttered. The man chuckled.

“I guess he never told you...frankly I’m surprised Randolf didn’t take it himself. Consuming a powerful Wiccan heart will either stop the curse, or give ultimate power.”

“You’re delusional.” Klara sighed. “When Randolf comes…”

“He won’t come for you.” The man took the blade from the coals, advancing on her. Klara whimpered as he gripped her neck, forcing her to look at him. “Why would he rescue the whore who broke his heart?” Despair hit her hard. The man was right. There was nothing between her and Randolf, no matter how she wished there could have been. It was foolish to believe he would save her a second time. The hot metal steamed, nearly pressing against her skin. “Don’t worry my dear, I’ll make sure he’ll get a piece of your heart.” He grinned.

Klara closed her eyes and prayed it would be quick. She felt the hot knife prick her skin, making her scream.

“Klara!” she opened her eyes as the man was tackled away from her, the knife sent flying into the darkness. The Wiccan gasped in shock, doubling over as she tried to catch her breath. Her heart refused to calm down and what she saw made sure any effort was in vain.

Vicious growling came from the two figures and before her eyes two werewolves morphed and attacked each other. Klara couldn’t tell who was who. Teeth and claws gnashed and scrapped both figures, blood spraying everywhere.

One of the wolves grabbed the other, saying, “Stay away from her!”, before sending him flying into a thick tree where he lay motionless on the ground. It then turned to her and she cried softly, drawing back in fear only to have the chains tighten and scrape her skin.

“P-please...don’t..!” Klara wept.

“Klara...” The wolf form started to change back into a man, but instead of Gerrick it was Randolf. “...it’s me, liebling.” he whispered. Klara sobbed with relief when he broke the chains and then cupped her face in his hands.

“Thank God, you’re alright.” he breathed. Klara couldn’t believe it. He’d come for her. He’d shown his other form to her without hesitation. What could this mean? Did he feel something for her? All these questions swirled in her tired mind but she wasn’t able to focus on them. There was only one thing she could think of and she started crying heavily.

“R-Ran-dolf..!” Klara couldn’t calm herself to speak steadily. “I’m so...so sorry..!” Tears flooded down her cheeks. Randolf smoothed away her tears then pressed his lips to hers, passionately kissing her.

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