Disclaimer: I own the plot and my OC's. All else is Michael Buckley's...to have and behold, in sickness and in health, till death do thee part--Heaven forbid; till even after... ^^
18. Of Snicker Bars, Night Patrons, and Twilight
Red Sam ~ Flyleaf
Daphne's point of view...
PREVIOUSLY: "This is our cabin, missy," he replies.
"Nuh-uh," I insist, though I become less and less sure after taking a complete look at my surroundings. It's almost exactly like G-6 except for the messiness and different color scheme. The only way I could've thought both were the same was through my unobservant state of depression and damage…which was supposedly a couple hours ago.
Well, hell.
Devin's point of view...
She lies there on my bed, looking like a princess just awoken. Her cheeks are rosy pink as blush creeps into them after my bold statement.
"I--I'm sorry; I didn't know--I mean, I didn't realize," she stammers, avoiding eye-contact and looking towards Rizzo for help. Even though she tries hard to mask her emotions, her big brown eyes give away a look of confusion and loss. Unwanted anger arrises from the pit of my heart; why would she seek comfort from that asshole? Excuse my language, as Uncle Danny would say.
"It's fine, Daphne; Rizzo'll just go tell the others we found you," I say, giving the jerk his leave and sending him a look Nikki had dubbed as the Death Glare of Invisible Knives. Talk about original. Nonetheless, no one can rightfully deny the Alpha's command.
I notice his shoulders slump a bit; the sign indicates defeat. Richard, you see, had his own opinions of who caused the murders and let us just say they partly run along the same line as Daphne's. But he knows that if he tries to argue, he'll never win.
And so, Rizzo gives my angel a quick hug before heading towards the door to exit, just as ordered. Good boy; you know your place.
"So you're leaving me...here..." Daph fades off, though it's quite obvious what the end of the statement was to have been; "with him?!" Her eyes make it seem as if she doesn't trust me; she looks as if she suspects me of murdering her if we were left alone. Oh, love, how thwarted you're mind's been; the truth is right around the corner yet you fail to spot it; you're blinded by old rivalries and hatred, false suspicions and accusations.
"Don't worry, Daphne. Here, take this Snicker bar; you probably haven't had anything since breakfast this morning. Just eat it. Dont worry; everything'll be fine," Rizzo assures her before giving me his own death glare--as if threatening to kill me if I did the same as I did with Reem. But who's he trying to kid; I'd never allow myself to loose control ever in the same way, especially with my angel. Nonetheless, he closes the door behind him even though it's quite apparent how he wants to stand his ground and keep me from my supposed next victim. Silly underling; you know you can't keep me away forever.
"So..." I start off with a sigh.
"I don't wanna hear it, Devin. So save the talking for someone who gives a shit," Daphne cuts in as she tore her Snicker bar open, silencing me in shock and slight hurt for only a minute.
"Picked up a few choice words from Rizzo, have you?" I feel my nose wrinkle in displeasure.
"What's it to you?" she asks, chewing on peanuts and carmel, instantly on defense.
"Nothing at all, love. I just don't like the way he was making--what you Americans call--'goo-goo' eyes at you, looking at you like a fruit he can unpeal with his eyes--"
"Look who's talking," the angel mutters, though I can't help but notice a faint blush creep up her cheeks from my casual use of 'love'. "What do you have against him, anyways?"
"Richard? Well, he's a right foul git and he knows it, yet he still chooses to waltz around, still recycling girls more than plastic water bottles. I mean, I think I'd know since we've known each other for ages."
"Ages? I thought him and Reem just transfered a year ago from India," Daph says before throwing the bar's wrapper in the nearby trashcan, a look of suspicion etched across her face.
"Yes, well, you shouldn't believe everything you hear..." I mutter.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
I sigh. "I guess I have to start at the beginning, now, don't I?"
"Well, it would be highly appreciated," she replies in sarcasm.
I ignore her tone. "You see, all this started way back when in the medieval ages and times of war. The people of Scottland in those days had an old legend about a hero who would deliver them from the torturous times of the malevolent King Brogan IV--a king who's ways were considered even harsher than Nottigham's Prince John in the stories of Robin Hood."
Daphne's point of view...
I think of the outlaw's current fortune, how he and Little John are now defending criminals in a law firm. I decide to keep my mouth shut in case Devin turns out like Goldi and nearly kills people from just an interruption. Though the main reason for my remaining descrete is the obvious fact that all normal humans think Robin Hood is just a fairy tale. But then, didn't Rizzo say something about--
"The king's people were considered more as servants and even slaves," Devin continues. "They were confined to the gallows or sentenced to the guillotine if they commited crimes even as petty and trifle as missing their taxes or even speaking ill of the royal name. But the people of Scoti Coniunctum--a land of Gaels now divided into Scotland and Ireland--had a prophecy of a hero called Donnelly Ó Faoláin who would someday free them all from slavery and dictatorship. The prophecy was in a poem, and roughly translated from Gaelic, it would be...
The day shall come
The hour is near
Wait for the New Moon
It signals a new beginning
The hero shall come
The Dark Brave One, Of Wolf
Where Heavens meet Earth
He shall emerge
Let the King of Evil feel his rath
Days of deliverance
Days of liberation
Spent in freedom and joy
The Dark Brave One cometh
By the shine of the Great Moon
She who giveth and she who taketh away."
Devin's point of view...
"He has your last name," Daphne says. "So... What, are you, like, his great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great--"
"Your point?" I ask, quite amused by her look of mystified confusion.
She clears her throat "Are you supposed to be his descendant or something? Like, is he your ancestor? Since you're Scottish and everything? Hold up, did the Donald guy--"
"Donnelly," I correct.
"Yeah, him; did he even come yet?" Daphne asks, eyes transfixed in mine. I avoid her question, urging her to guess with a slight smile. "He did, 'cause the Middle Ages were a while ago, right? Like, in the 1200's or something..."
"Actually, the Middle Ages lasted from approximatel the 5th century till around the 15th. But you're right, the Dark Brave One of Wolf did come to free his people; however, it wasn't like anything the Gaels were expecting. You see, Donnelly Ó Faoláin was his namesake--a dark brave one and one of wolf, meaning yes, the deliverer was a werewolf who overthrew King Brogan with his band of outlaws."
"Wolf," she murmurs to herself then suddenly asks, "So you're saying Donnelly killed him?" Her eyes are wide in fear and curiosity.
"Unfortunately, yes," I explain. "That is why he was blessed and cursed by the goddess Moon. He wasn't a werewolf when he defeated the evil king, but he did worship the Great Moon--the goddess of the wolves--like many others. Many of the Moon's worshippers were often burned at the stake in later times, like in the Salem Witchtrial. You might have heard about that..."
"Yeah, the witches..." she says, eyes far off.
"Well, the Great Moon is a peaceful goddess and doesn't like taking the life of any being--be he good or evil. But because of freeing Her people, the Moon had to bless the hero and his friends out of gratitude and yet had to curse them in order for them to pay dearly for the life they took. And what you see before you now was Her solution..." I say, guesturing towards myself as I transform into my other form.
I feel my bones gradually dislocating and black fur tearing our of my skin; my hide, as dark as night, now covers me. I know, even without feeling my teeth with my tongue, that they're sharpening and growing out in both length and width as my nails grow out into claws.
"Patrons of the Night we're called--serving our Goddess forever and paying the cost of the haste desicion of one brave yet foolish man."
"Oh, my..." the fair girl mutters as she bites down hard on her palm and squeals before falling back onto my bed, eyes to the ceiling. "How long have you been a...you know," she asks.
"A werewolf. It's all right to say it, you know. It's not tabood or anything. But to answer your question...longer than you may think..." I let the whisper escape through my canines without making it seem like a growl. Truthfully, the knowledge of this curse angered me for I knew I would never have peace in this world until death came knocking at my door.
"You're not gonna go all Edward Cullen on me and make me find out you're a century old, are you?" she grumbles with her palm still slightly in her mouth. I supose it's a familiar guesture for her, the only one she can depend on in this new world of secrets.
I bark since laughing isn't really an option in my current form. "Of course not, you don't know how much of a dickhead that Cullen is, leavin that human pet of his to trail after him like a lost puppy throughout the whole series."
"You actually read those books?" the girl on the bed asks in shock, but still not looking up to meet my eyes.
"No," I answer in all honesty. "I avoid those books like the plague. Though one thing I couldn't avoid for long is the insufferable blabbering of Nikki and Ania. So, unfortunately, I am sadly well-informed of those books."
The angel giggles softly. "They are good books though; the pure love between Bella and Edward is so sweet and breathtaking and their romance is one of the best I've read by far."
"Surely you don't really mean that," I tease. Oh, laugh again bright angel, I think--editing Shakespeare.
And she does. Then Daphne looks me right in the eye and says, "I trust you, Devin. I don't know why but I do. I still have doubts about you and you may be a mass murderer for all I know, but I know you won't hurt me, right?" Her big moon eyes shine brightly as she says this, staring right through my shriveled soul.
"Never," I confirm as I slowly make my way towards her then give her a lick over her cherubic face. Again, she giggles in delight as she tries to turn her head away. "Down, doggie. Down boy," she cries.
Laughing along with her, I will my body to change back and end up kneeling in front of the bed in order to shield my private parts from her innocent eyes. One not-so-good after-effect of transformation is the fact that your clothes never reappear after you change back. I once thought they disappear off to an island where all lost things go but Uncle Danny later told me of how worn items before one's transformation are disintegrated and broken down into tiny, seperate atoms that become a small contribute to any mound of dirt, scattered all over the earth, paying back a small portion of what one had taken from this world.
Nevertheless, encouraged by her continuous giggles, I shake my jet black hair out of my eyes and bend my head down to hers, planting a gently kiss on her rosy lips. I put into mind for the future that she tasted of sesame seeds and chocolate. Who knew how long we would have together? If only...
A/N: At least 10 reviews and I'll update. And please review cuz I'm really looking forward to tellin you guys everthing. I even gots the ending chapter all done :)
By the way, thanks to everyone who reviewed; I sincerely appreciate it ;]
~Ly