Twilight
A Howl of Pain and Vengeance
Chapter Three
Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight and character names.
Aro stood still, before his chosen three. Each were picked for speed and strength. Yet most importantly, each was expendable. They had to be for the job he had in mind for them. He clasped his hands behind his back.
"You know what to do?" He asked them.
"Yes Aro," They replied. Loyal and trusting. Aro smiled at them.
"Do what you must to gain his trust. I want him alive."
"Yes Aro," They say again. Aro Dismissed them with a wave of his hand, his thoughts turned to his informer and what to do with him.
-/-
Watching my wife recoil from me hurt. It hurt a lot. A sharp shearing pain right in my heart. I turned back to the car, slamming the boot shut. I can feel a tear streak down my cheek, as I rest my head onto the back off the car. I start to believe that I shouldn't of come home, when I feel a warm hand on my shoulder.
"Harry?" My wife asks quietly. I look up to see her standing right there, beside me. As I stare into her eyes, I realise I don't see fear in them. Nor do I see repulsion. Just a little sadness and the question why. I raise my hand to her cheek, freezing as she stiffens. She then relaxes and leans toward me.
My warm hand gently connects with her cheek, and she sighs softy. I find myself thanking my lucky stars that our love is strong enough for Wilma to brave my altered state. To allow me to touch her. Allowing me to pass my love for her, through my touch. I feel her hand shift from my shoulder up to my neck. I smile warmly as I slower my face to hers and gently kiss her upon the lips.
"I owe you an explanation my love," I whisper as I pull back.
"Yes you do," She replies dropping her hand from my neck and taking a step back. I can see her eyes going over my face, taking in all the changes. "I'll put the kettle on," she says before turning around and going back into the house. I follow close behind with my suitcases.
I head upstairs towards our bedroom to drop off my suitcases while Wilma, heads into the kitchen. I step into our modest bedroom. Lavender curtains are pulled back from the window to allow the sun in. I dump the suitcases by a wooden dresser. I look at our double bed, with its white pillows and white duvet. It'll be nice to sleep in my own bed again. As I turn to leave I realise the scent of my wife is everywhere in the room.
My head starts to swim and I feel a little dizzy as I stumble from the bedroom. I rest against the wall, taking in deep breathes, trying to clear my head. Once I start to feel normal again, I head back down stairs, and into the kitchen. Wilma is standing over the kettle as I walk in. I watch as the steam rises from the kettle and wisps lightly under the pale blue wall mounted cupboards. A white plastic kitchen top covers one wall, and sits atop more cupboards.
A kitchen skin sits on the far wall next to the kitchen top, with a washing machine next to that. A door leading out into the back garden sits shut next to the washing machine. A wooden table fills up the centre of the kitchen, leaving a walkway around the edge of the kitchen. Wilma looks up at me as I cough lightly, and gives me a warming smile. Maybe this wont be as hard as I thought it would be.
I just stand there and watch Wilma make two cups of tea for now, as I collect my thoughts. I watch as she takes the boiled kettle and fills up the teapot with boiling water, after adding two teabags to the pot. She puts the lid on the pot, and carries it across to the table, where two empty cups stand. She fills the cups up to a third full, before collecting a bottle of milk from the fridge next to me. Once she's added milk to the teas and put the milk back into the fridge, I step forward towards the table and pick up one of the cups.
The scent of earl grey tea fills my nostrils, and sets my mouth to watering. With a happy sigh I take a small sip, allowing the flavour to rush over my tongue before swallowing. The tea barely registers as hot on my tongue, and I take a gulp of tea before I realise what I've done. I put my cup down on to the table gently as I look at Wilma. The puzzled look she gives me, leaves me feeling ashamed. It is then that I realise that I can't lie to her.
I step round to the other side of the table, not only to keep it between us, but also to give me a few extra seconds. Yes I was trying to stall. I'm afraid what she'll do when I tell her the truth. At least what I know about the truth.
"Hunny?" Wilma says, after taking a sip of her tea. I find myself wanting to tell her to sit down. Another stalling manoeuvre, but there's no chairs in the kitchen. "What happened to you?" She asks.
"I'm not to sure what to say," I say lamely, looking out the kitchen window, so that I don't have to look at Wilma. "The Doctor in Norway said I should be dead." I say, only a little louder than a whisper. I hear her gasp, and set her cup down. I quickly glance at her, to see she has covered her mouth. Shock and fear in her eyes. "I was attacked by, something." I bark a harsh laugh.
"It was some sort of large beast. Like a wolf but bigger, more human like." I face her finally. With another sigh, I take my jacket off, and pull my shirt off over my head. Another gasp escapes my wife's lips as she takes in my torso. I turn slightly to the left so she can see the scars on my left arm. "It left me with a souvenir." The scars looked months old, instead of a few days old. "I was out for four days I'm told, and when I awoke... Well look at me." I tell her, holding my arms out, and turn around slowly so she can get a good look at me.
I watched as she stood frozen, wondering whether she was planning on running, or worse, screaming. So when she moved, I looked away again. It only took me a second to realise that I couldn't hear her running or screaming. I turned my head back round, to find her coming to stand next to me, her arm raised before her. A shiver ran up my spine as her fingers trace the four scars down my left arm. I could still see the horror in her eyes at what had happened to me. Yet now there was something else.
I couldn't identify it, but the look on her face, was one of wonder. Her fingers moved up my arm and across my shoulder, to trace down my torso to rest, full palm, on my abs. Her hand felt oddly cool on my abs, yet there was an undercurrent of warmth and love as well. I couldn't understand why Wilma was so willing to continue to love me, after what had happened to me. It didn't help that I knew something was wrong with me.
Yet I couldn't deny my heart. I could feel it thumbing away in my chest at her touch. A strong desire to hold her in my arms swept through me, and I took a step towards her. Her other hand touched my chest, resting atop my heart. A smile appeared on her face as she looked up at me. A raging heat built up inside of me, as our eyes met. I could see my love and desire returned. I gently wrapped my arms around her, pulling her to me.
Our lips met again, and this time our kiss was full of passion un-denied. Her arms travelled around my chest, one ending up on the back of my neck, the other coming to rest on my ass. She gave it a teasing squeeze, which released a growl of desire from me. My lips travelled kisses along her cheek and down her neck. Her scent filled my nostrils, and once more I felt light headed, but this time I embraced it.
I felt powerful, and wanted to howl my pleasure. It was that thought that made me push away from Wilma. I could see the hurt and unspoken question in her eyes, as I stood there panting heavily.
"I don't," I begin to say, but she steps back towards me, pushing a finger to my lips. "Hurt you," I mumble around her finger. She smiles up at me, and actually giggles. She hadn't giggled at me in about twenty years.
"Harry, my love." Wilma said running the finger around my lips. "You won't hurt me." She stated firmly, a look of hunger entered her eyes. "Whatever happened to you was a gift, and you shouldn't be ashamed of it." Her spare hand had rapped around my neck, and pulled me back towards her. "Now kiss me again." She all but purred, and I couldn't resist.
-/-
I felt relaxed, and satisfied as I lay in bed next to Wilma. She lay naked on top of me, her matured yet still firm breasts resting on my chest, felt so perfect that I never wanted her to move. Her legs were wrapped around my right leg, and I could feel our love juices trickling down my leg. Her head was resting on my shoulder, her long red hair covering her back. I smiled as I thought about just how wild and exciting it had been. I found myself playing with her hair, as she slept on me.
I looked over at the alarm clock on the night stand and noted that Jack would be home from school soon. I knew I'd have to get up to greet my son, yet I really didn't want to leave my wife. I didn't want to wake her up either. I shut my eyes, and recalled Wilma's face as we made love. I could feel myself stir at the mental image, and almost woke Wilma up for another round. Instead I took a deep solid breath, and carefully rolled Wilma off me. I got off the bed, and pulled the duvet over Wilma.
After planting a kiss upon her forehead, I stretched, once again marvelling at the strength I could feel in my body. I really wanted to talk to Wilma about what to tell Jack, but it would have to wait. For now I would keep to my story of plastic surgery. Jack was young still and I didn't want to scare him with the truth. Especially as I wasn't sure what the exact truth was. Still Jack usually went straight to his room, when he got home.
I figured I could get away with not talking to him directly until dinner time. Wilma would be up by then, and we could discuss what to tell Jack. I get dressed in some simple plain brown trousers, and as an after thought grab a white shirt and put it on. I headed back down the stairs and into the kitchen. I take a glass out of one of the wall mounted cupboards and fill it with water from the tap. I down it in a few gulps before refilling the now empty glass.
The water feels cool and refreshing on my tongue and down my throat. With a content sigh, I exit the kitchen, and head into the living room. The window looks out onto the drive, and the curtains are half closed. A lone wooded chair sits by the window, where Wilma had kept watch for me. The other two wooden chairs sit by a simple wooden dining table, which is tucked into the corner by the door. On the far wall sits an empty fireplace, and next to it, sits a small TV.
A couch rest in the middle of the room facing the TV and fireplace. I head for the couch, and lower myself onto it, picking up the remote control for the TV which was resting on the arm of the couch. I turn the TV on, and just generally flick through the channels, not actually looking for something to watch. About forty minutes later I hear the school bus screech to a stop in the street, and I put the remote down, leaving the TV on the news.
Three minutes later and I hear the front door opening, and then close again.
"Hello?" I hear Jack call out.
"Hey Son. Your Mum's asleep so be keep it down." I say over my shoulder.
"Hey Dad. Have fun in Norway?" He asks, yet I can hear his foot falls heading for the stairs.
"It was, different." I say back, as he starts walking up the stairs. I hear his bedroom door open and shut.
My eyes are staring into the fireplace, completely ignoring the TV. It's just comforting background noise, while my thoughts dwell once more on what has happened to me. Will I ever learn the full truth of what the beast was. and what it has done to me. I'm not sure if I'll get the answers I'm looking for. I lean back on the couch and shut my eyes. At least I'm home, and life can start to return to normal. Wilma's reaction assures me that others shouldn't be to harsh in judging me. Through only Wilma will know the truth.
-/-
That evening after dinner, I find myself in the back garden. The grass under my bare feet feels comforting, as I gaze up at the sky. I notice the moon is almost full, and for some reason that sends a shiver of desire down my spine. Wilma agreed with me, not to tell Jack the truth, and he seemed to except the story of me having plastic surgery. I think he actually likes having a younger looking Dad. I feel like he intends to parade me in front of his friends fathers, just to show them that I'm the cooler father.
I chuckle heartily to myself, wondering if Jack would really do that. I turn around, ready to return to my bed, but stop. I find myself gazing up at the moon again, and the dream I had on the plane home returns to me. I think I know what my dream is trying to tell me, and I hope it isn't true. Still if it is, I'm going to have to leave for a few days. I don't want to be around my family when the full moon rises into the sky.
They are the last people I want to hurt. Is there somewhere I can lock myself away at night? I think back to the beast that attacked me, and decided that if that's my fate, then maybe not. I frown, as I realise that I wasn't attacked on a full moon. Is this why I feel so drawn to the moon. Because it doesn't have to be full. I pull my gaze away from the moon and to my house. I've still got a few days before I have to return to work. I'll use that time to research my nightmare.
