Ravenwood(84)
It was her wolf, Elinore realized with a sharp jolt. Placing her hand on her chest, she could feel the white wolf within her straining at the seams of her flesh. The longing feeling in her chest wasn’t just her own heart missing Caleb, it was the wolf’s heart as well. It was akin to the feeling she had when she stood outside that day, having the sensation that she should be on all fours, running into the forest. She felt now as though she were two beings - a human and a wolf. Neither were pleased with the circumstances and both were making their unhappiness known. How strange and… compelling. She wanted to find Hayter and bring him back, not because he was pack, but because he could cause the pack problems. But she also wanted Caleb close to her, within her sights. Elinore inhaled deeply, letting the feelings wash over her until they were no longer so strange and foreign, but a part of her being.
After a moment, she felt more in control. Her emotions were still there, but she no longer had the urge to bolt after Caleb, whining as she moved through the corridors searching for him. Nor did she feel so annoyed and angered with Hayter that she desired to go into his study and destroy his horrid stuffed animals. She would wait for their return, maintaining her calm for the rest of Ravenwood.
She retired to the library, walking past the room where the dreadful piano lived. If she turned into a wolf, Elinore would no longer play for Hayter, she decided. She did not enjoy it and he could not force her.
But what if she didn’t turn into a wolf? The question plagued her as she ran her fingers over the titles in the library, searching for any books or myths of wolves. Pulling a Norse Mythology book off the shelf, she sat in her chair and stared blindly at the pages. She was distressed to think that she may not change into a wolf. Perhaps she should be horrified by the notion of shape shifters and fearful, but she felt more sure and strong than she ever had. She wondered if those feelings always lived in her and were awakened by the bite or if they were caused by the bite itself. Either way, she did not want to lose them. Not able to concentrate on reading after several minutes, she slammed the book shut and made her way to the desk, pulling out several sheets of paper and a quill. In a rush of writing, she penned out her feelings in a letter to Charlotte, carefully avoiding any reference to the supernatural. She kept her thoughts to the feelings at hand - her attachment for Caleb, her fears of Hayter, her sensation of changing into a different woman, or perhaps only growing into herself. Organizing her thoughts on paper helped her understand them. As Elinore wrote, it was as though she could feel her friend’s presence, giving her companionship and strength.
It was late by the time Elinore finished, stunned to count her letter at over thirty pages. She gathered the pages up and took them with her to her room, setting them safety in her trunk. She would decide later if she would post the letter or not.
As she undressed and slipped into bed, she pressed her face into one of the pillows and breathed deeply, inhaling the lingering scent of Caleb. It thrilled her to think that he had been here, in her bed, just this morning. A tingle ran through her as she thought about him, about how he touched her and she pulled the pillow close, hugging it against her chest. How extraordinary her life had been since coming to Ravenwood. How much more extraordinary it still may become if she turned on the full moon.
The white wolf welcomed Elinore into dreamland, waiting patiently with a black raven on its shoulder. The wolf’s muzzle pressed against Elinore’s calf and she let out a low, canine whine. Elinore threaded her fingers through the soft fur on top of the wolf’s head.
“Yes, I know. I miss him too.”
Movement in the trees made Elinore’s heart thump. The feral wolf - in the bushes, watching her. Waiting for something. A low, growling sound came from its throat - deep and menacing. The sound washed over Elinore like a cold rain, leaving gooseflesh in its wake. The white wolf faced the forest, pulled her lips back over her teeth and bared them, showing off the shiny, white tips. Elinore felt her own throat make a matching growling sound in response to the feral wolf. She may very well be a wolf herself in a few days time. She would not allow herself to be cowed or frightened by this creature. The feral’s dissonant howl rang through the forest, making Elinore wince as it ripped through her eardrums. Though it was always tuneless and shrill, something was different, something that made Elinore’s stomach lurch.
It was not coming from her dream. The howl was coming from outside the manor.
Chapter Seventeen
Elinore awoke while the feral wolf was still howling. Hearing it both in her dream and in the waking world was jarring and incongruous. She pushed back the bedclothes and dashed to the window, hoping the light of waxing moon would paint the landscape more brightly than before or perhaps that her eyesight was better than it had been. In the trees, she was certain she could see the feral wolf - its golden demon eyes glowing at her. She put her housecoat on, securing the sash tightly and rushed to her door. Before she even reached it, her hand still outstretched for the handle, she heard a scream - a human scream. Her heart thudded madly in her chest and for a moment she hesitated. Should she go out? Or should she remain in the relative safety of her room? Then, in her mind, she heard the words she’d said to Caleb echoing back at her. I shall keep Ravenwood safe in your absence. She was the mistress of Ravenwood. She would do her best to keep all inhabitants safe.
Elinore squared her shoulders and opened her door. She grabbed one of the lit candle sconces in the hallway, holding it aloft as she made her way downstairs on quiet feet. She paused at the bottom and listened with her preternaturally good hearing - something she was coming to rely on. She could hear voices coming from the kitchen area - toward the back of the manor. She made her way there on light feet.