Wolf at Her Door: BBW Paranormal Romance (4 page)

"Bran, listen to me."

Her brown eyes begged for my attention. I nodded and turned to face her. She was my mother, and I would listen to whatever she had to say.

"Your father wanted to tell you so many years ago, but the clan decided back then that we would not reveal the truth about us until the time was right. We wanted our children to grow and be strong and happy. None of the clan wanted them to be weighed down with this curse."

"Curse? What are you talking about?" I asked.

"None of us know how it really happened, but Clan MacCulloch was cursed centuries ago. It's why we forbade anyone to marry or associate with Clan Drummond even though they're the nearest to us. You were born and have grown like any other person, but now that you've reached adulthood, you will stop aging."

"That's absurd!"

"Stop, Bran. Just please listen. Our clan cannot die. There are others out there who are like us, but Clan Drummond is not one of them. If you were to marry her, she would age and you wouldn't. You and your children would still look young as she died of old age. I couldn't bear for you to experience that. None of us wanted that for our children, so we told all of you about the war against Clan Drummond. It was for the best."

My mind spun. How was any of that possible? I searched my mother's face, and for the first time I realized she didn't have any of the fine lines or grey hair I had seen on other women when I went to war. None of our clan had that.

My mother's words swam in my head. I imagined my children surrounding their frail mother, watching her move closer to her death every day as she aged. It wasn't something I wanted them to experience. It wasn't something I wanted to experience.

"Then when I lead the clan, I'll end this for good," I said. "There will be no more children, no more births for Clan MacCulloch. This line ends with me."

I heard a sound outside the barn, and the strong scent of raspberries drifted in.
Ainsley! Why was she here?

Tearing out of the barn, I spotted a silver wolf racing towards the trees. Letting my kilt drop as I pulled off my shirt, I quickly changed into my wolf form.
What did she hear? Why was she running?

Speeding through the village, I tried to cut her off, but she was too fast. I let out several barks, but they were stifled by the wind. I had to catch her. If she entered the trees at this hour of night, I might never find her.

I raced as fast as I could, but I was too far from her and couldn't catch up. As she approached the edge of the forest, she looked back and her eyes flashed their natural green color briefly before she entered the trees and I lost her.

I entered the forest, but it was too dark. I couldn't see and it was too dangerous to go further in. I let out a long howl that echoed against the landscape. The sound was returned by others of my kind, but not her.

Moving deeper into the woods, my footing slipped. She was more familiar with the forest, and with her lead, I knew it was hopeless. I wouldn't find her unless she wanted to be found. I had to be patient and hope she'd return to me.

As the night covered the land and the moon rose, I made my way to Clan Drummond's village and waited. Her scent wasn't there. Several groups of people came out with torches and I knew they were searching for her, but she never came back.

***

It had been a fortnight since I saw Ainsley run into the forest. I held a nightly vigil in wolf form on a crag above her village, waiting for her to return. But she didn't. Her clan never acknowledged me. I might as well be invisible. And maybe I was. I didn't feel like I deserved to live anymore if Ainsley wasn't part of my life.

But why would she run? What happened to make her leave? I replayed the conversation my mother and I had in my mind, and I could only blame my immortality. Ainsley must not have wanted to be part of such a horrific curse. Who would want to live forever?

As the sun began to set, I waited for her clan to light the torches as they did every night so Ainsley could find her way home. That night, they didn't. What was wrong with these people? Did they give up on her? Or did she come back without my knowing?

The snap of a twig behind me told me I wasn't alone. Only one person was brave enough to bother me these days. Donal was slowly making his way to where I was seated. He grunted as he climbed the rock and sat beside me, then shifted into his human form.

"Bran–"

Quickly shifting back, I interrupted him before he could say anything.

"Did you hear something? Is she okay?"

"I don't know how to tell you this," he said. "There was a hunt several nights ago, and word is that a silver-maned wolf was killed. I spoke to several clansmen and the wolf they described sounds just like Ainsley."

"No!" I roared. "It's not true!"

"You know it's true. Look at her village. The torches aren't lit. She's dead, Bran."

Donal continued speaking, but I didn't hear anything else he said. Ainsley meant everything to me. As long as I believed she was out there, I had hope I would find her. If she was dead, then so was I.

***

Present Day, Leeds Point, NJ

Rafael's eyes were riveted on my face. His mouth frowned a bit at the corners. He reached down and grabbed a short glass he flipped onto the bar, then reached over for a bottle of Glenfiddich scotch. He poured the dark amber liquid and set it in front of me.

"I left my clan after that. I couldn't bear to stay when everything reminded me of her. The pain of losing her was worse than anything I could ever imagine. I didn't want to live anymore, but I couldn't die."

I picked up the glass and sniffed in the woody scent of the alcohol.

"Is this your first time in Leeds Point?" he asked.

I laughed. "Oddly enough, no. I didn't make my way to the new world for centuries. But somehow since I've been out here, I keep returning to this strange, run-down town. No offense."

"None taken. I'm sure you can tell by my accent that I'm not originally from here either. My girlfriend believes this town is some kind of beacon for the paranormal. She would say that's why you keep coming back here."

"This time is different though," I said. "I only came here because I caught her scent. I don't know how it's possible since she's been gone for so long, but... I just don't know. I guess I still have hope. Maybe after all these years, I've finally lost my mind."

"Come with me to see Pinky. Or I can have her come here. I know she would love to hear your story. Her family is one of the oldest in this town, and she has extensive records of the comings and goings of all kinds of people in Leeds Point, especially shifters. Maybe she knows something."

"It's not possible. Ainsley died in Scotland over four hundred years ago. She has nothing to do with New Jersey."

"Then just come with me because it'll make Pinky happy," he said.

My brow wrinkled as I looked at him. He had to be crazy or really in love with his mate to push for me to meet her, but something was telling me to listen.

"Aye, you twisted my arm," I said.

"Listen to me, Bran. I'm not like this. I don't befriend just anyone, and I'm not the type of bartender people tell their stories to. But I think sometimes fate works in ways we can't understand."

Fate.
The word had come up so many times in my life that I didn't know whether to embrace it or hate it. Was it fate that I met Ainsley? Or did fate take her away? Fate had one more chance to prove itself.

As much as I didn't want to, I was optimistic about meeting Pinky. Maybe I kept returning to Leeds Point for a reason. Perhaps I wasn't going crazy after all and Pinky would have an answer for why I caught Ainsley’s scent here after all these years.

Chapter Seven

Bran

Something big was going to happen, I could feel it in my veins. The excitement, the rush, I didn't know what to expect, but I felt going with Rafael to see Pinky was a step in the right direction.

I followed Rafael's black Camaro through the small streets near Night Shift and back onto the highway. After a few short minutes, we turned into an area of small houses that felt familiar to me although I didn't remember being there before.

He parked his car on the hill of a driveway in front of a pale yellow house with a faded sign in front that said 'Smythe's Nursery School'. I thought it was odd for it to still be called that. One of the things I learned quickly while trying to fit in with each modern age was that the names of things constantly changed.

I stopped my car at the curb. As I exited the car, a tall woman with bright blue hair stepped out of the house. She was dressed very casually in a pair of jeans and an old grey sweatshirt, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She had such a youthfulness about her that if it wasn't for her height, I might have thought she was one of the school children.

She let out a yawn and stepped barefoot towards Rafael, keeping her eyes on me. In my life, I had come across all kinds of creatures, both fantastic and mundane, but none like her. She was a different kind of human.

"Rafael, you know I'm not a morning person," she said with a lopsided grin.

"I know, but you've been doing a lot of research lately and I thought you'd want to hear this," he said. "Pinky, this is Bran MacCulloch. He's–"

"Wait, MacCulloch? Are you serious?" she said, turning towards me.

"You've heard of my clan?" I asked.

"I don't know anything about clans, but I know your name. It's been driving me crazy for weeks now. This is too much of a coincidence. Please, come in. Maybe you can help me make sense of this."

We followed Pinky into the house and down the steps into an outdated office. There were boxes with a strange symbol on them stacked along one of the walls, and piles of paper were haphazardly scattered everywhere.

Pinky went behind the desk and rolled the chair out of her way as she reached for a smaller stack of paper on the center of the desk. She motioned for us to sit on the long couch, then pulled over a box and set the stack on top of it before looking at me again.

"I'm sorry, Bran," she said. "I've been so focused on this lately that I seem to have lost my manners. I don't even know why you're here. Rafael doesn't usually bring strange men to see me."

"I wanted you to hear his story, Pinky," Rafael said. "I've never heard anything like it before."

"My research can definitely wait. If you'd like to tell me, I'd love to hear your story, Bran. I can tell you're not from around here."

"Well, I don't know that my story is very special to be honest," I said. "The only thing that anyone might find fascinating is how long I've lived."

Pinky's face changed. Her eyes narrowed and she bit her bottom lip. I wondered if she could read minds or if my hint was too obvious.

"Go on," she said. "I'm sure Rafael has already told you about Leeds Point. About how it's a magnet for anything paranormal and always has been."

"I told him that's what you believe, yes," Rafael said.

"He's always trying to start something with me," she said, rolling her eyes. "Just because I can't prove it doesn't mean it's not true. Look at how many shifters we have here, and that's on top of the ghosts, witches, and who knows what else. Please tell me you're a vampire, Bran. I've been dying to meet one."

"They can be the death of you, you know," I said as she rolled her eyes. "But no, I am just another shifter."

"How old are you?" she asked.

"I've lost count, but I believe I'm around four hundred and fifty years old."

"You're immortal?" she gasped, her eyes widening as she grabbed her stack of paper. "That's brilliant! I can't believe I didn't think of it."

Her stack of paper was broken in three parts with a different color paperclip holding each part together. Each file looked identical as she moved them into place.

"I've been doing a census of all the people who have lived in Leeds Point," she said. "Honestly, I have no idea how my father gets some of this information. Anyway, I have these three files that don't make sense to me."

She picked up the first one and held it up.

"We don't have the original records anymore, but what we do have shows a MacCulloch arrived here in the late 1700s," she said. She put down the stack and picked up the other two. "Then we have him arriving again in the early 1900s. I had just come across this file when my father gave me a new one last week. MacCulloch is back."