A man in wolf's clothing

His eyes found an armchair in the corner of the room near the fireplace. It was where he often found himself kick back with a book. She seemed to be academically inclined, having both learned Italian and French, and studied at university. He returned his eyes to her when she asked him what books he took an interest in. “I’m a big fan of history,” he replied. Although, it varied. There were great books in most genres from his experience. But history was a topic he thoroughly was fascinated by. The revolutions and wars. The effects that the past had on today’s society. The intrigue and legacies. And most of all, there seemed to be a lot to learn from it. “What did you study at university?” he asked curiously, having noted that she’d almost taken Spanish classes there.

Rafael didn’t fully believe that she wouldn’t be able to forgive herself. But he liked to think that she wouldn’t. That the fact that he'd rescued her accounted for more. Preferably, much more than the fact of him being a murderer. He scrunched his brows as she smiled and then laughed. His face painted in all seriousness despite her lightheartedness. He understood that it might be an attempt to brush over just how scared she had been. But there was no reason to mask it in his company. In all honesty, he didn’t think she truly realized just how close to death she’d been. However, that was in the past and if she didn’t feel too affected by it, that was only a good thing. “I don’t,” he assured her. He wouldn’t think anyone to be ungrateful if they’d done nothing to prove this. The only reason he’d said the thing about kindness was that he’d many times experienced people pretending to be a certain way when in reality they only cared about themselves.

Rafael placed an arm on the back of the sofa as he turned his body to face her. So, nobody had told her something similar. Hm. His ability had rarely failed him, but then again, it wasn’t unlikely that other factors had interfered and rendered them dormant. His body had just gone through the transformation twice, and his adrenaline had still been pumping rapidly through his veins. Still, that usually hadn’t prevented it to work in the past. He listened to her explanation and nodded slowly. Her being unconscious or not in pain were certainly possibilities. It had just been his gut instinct that he perhaps was right, and so he’d felt the need to ask. “Yes, you’re probably right.” His lips curved into a faint smile as he looked at her. A lot had happened tonight. So, yes. It was probably nothing.

She suddenly got up on her knees, making him raise his brows while he tilted his head to look at her face. Wondering what she'd just thought of. He had to restrain a chuckle at the way she waddled closer to him on her knees, leaving just a bit of amusement in his expression.  Once she made her solemn proposition, he couldn't help but grin to show. He lowered his eyes to her pinky as she held it out in anticipation for him to swear to keep tonight a secret. He didn’t particularly understand why he had to do the same. After all, what did she have to lose by him talking about it? But he doubted that it really mattered. For all he knew, they’d probably never see each other again. He raised his hand to wrap his pinky around hers, looking into her eyes as he parted his lips. “I, Rafael Silvera, pinky-promise to not tell a soul, except for my pack members, about tonight.” This was the best he could do since all his pack members would learn about it. But he supposed he could try to keep it a secret from his friends if this mattered to her. Not that they didn't already know things like this about him. Most of them were shifters themselves and knew what that brought forth in a person. And he doubted that they knew her, at least, not unless she had connections to some of the teachers at the academy.
Again, his powers didn’t work. He lowered his gaze to their fingers before he grabbed her hand in his. Maybe the greater contact would help, but there was not a trace of any pain. He shook his head lightly. “Still nothing.” He then let go of her hand. “Anyway, I’m glad to see that you’re feeling well. Would be a lot harder to not talk about tonight if you’d gotten worse injuries from the attack,” he concluded.

Like him, she hooked her tiny finger around his and her smile only seemed to grow. Happy that he had gone with her silly little proposal without any strange looks or comments about how childish it was for two adults to do. “I’ll take that,” she said to how he refrained from promising silenced over his pack. He was very loyal, she had noticed. As well as a proud man, hacked out of some sort of hardened mineral which she was sure she felt softening a bit. “But remember, pinkie-promises might have a cute name, but it does call for the finger to be cut off if the promise is ever broken.” It would be obvious that she didn’t mean it as any kinds of threat. It was a fun little fact. There was no way she was going to actually chop of someone’s finger for breaking a promise, not like the one she had just made him do – partly so it had felt like a two-way thing – or any other for that matter. Thereafter she watched him in anticipation.
Not expecting him to decided to grab her whole hand, her eye automatically lowering. His hand var much larger than hers. More tan. Not surprisingly. She had noticed much of his as she had first laid eyes on him. Her hand completely relaxed in his and she tried to see if she maybe could feel… something. But, just like he concluded, nothing. “… Ah.” She couldn’t hide the entirety of the disappointment in her voice. She didn’t know what she had expected, not except maybe the talked about pain relief – God knows she could do without the aching – but she had surely hoped for… something. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m a dud in some way. I’ll have to settle for some good old fashion painkillers.” She sighed, sliding back down to sit her butt down on the couch and placing her legs back over the edges again. “And I guess you’re right. I can hide… whatever happened to my neck pretty easily. Just have to keep my hair down for a couple of days.” Excusing the unevenness of it as an unfortunate hair cut done by a young boy with craft scissors.

Maeve reached for her mug of tea ones again and this time she finally got around to take the first sip. A sip that ended up unintentionally large to cover up for shallowing the blockage in her throat. It was nice. Nice and warm. Almost warm enough to make her cold body shiver at the abrupt heating compared to the slow warming from being in doors. “I actually studied history myself. At university,” she opened up, preferring back to when he had asked her about it before her little brilliant idea had pushed it back. “Well, I studied art. Art history to be exact. Then I went and took a masters in marketing thinking I would work at an art gallery someday. I couldn’t help but notice that you have a few gorgeous pieces here.” She let her eyes search the open common room area for more paintings or installations such as the chandelier in the entrance hall while sipping yet again. What was it, the tea? Oolong. She liked it. She looked back at Rafael. A few small lights turned on in the brown irises by something as simple as talking about what she was interested in.

Her lips separated and the words had been so close to push through but they weren’t completely ready to get at that moment so she gently closed them again, pulling just a smidge at the corners of her mouth and the diverting his gaze for a second, until the words returned to her tongue and she spoke: “So… What else can you tell me about werewolves? Other than you have can take the pain away. And that you can decide whether or not to transform even on a full moon. Do transformations hurt? Is it true that all it takes to become one yourself if a bite or a scratch? Or are all werewolves born like one?” The questions just kept stacking as soon as she had started and she had to physically press her lips shut to make her stop when she felt she had given him more than enough examples to get started with.
She was genuinely interested, and not only because the situation made her feel like she should know more. And she hoped it came across as such.

He hadn’t thought her to not agree to his terms. After all, this was quite a silly idea. And she was the only one who'd be hit with the consequences should she not keep the promise. At least, she didn't seem like the type of person to hurt others. His smile widened by her addition. “I’m glad we cleared that up,” he played along. Appreciating her joking nature as it distracted him somewhat from the seriousness of tonight. And more so it helped to confirm that she wasn’t going to become an enemy by exposing his secret. He nodded slowly to her comments regarding his ability not working. It was strange. He looked at her expression, noting that she seemed slightly disappointed by this. But if she truly was in pain, it should have worked. He was certain of this.

Rafael adjusted his position, removing the hand from behind the couch, and grabbed his mug to take another sip. She then replied to his previous question. Revealing that she’d studied art history at university with a former intention to work at an art gallery. “That sounds interesting. Are you an artist yourself?” he asked, wondering if she drew or painted herself or if she simply appreciated art. He followed her gaze into the room, landing on a piece of tribal artwork on the wall. “Thank you. But I have to admit that most of the pieces were here before I moved in. Things that the pack has collected over years. I don’t really understand much about art, but I do like to create things myself. All the chandeliers and pieces with antlers are something I’ve assembled. So are some of the beside-tables,” he explained. He had always been very hands-on, so he liked to spend his spare time in his workshop or working on mechanics in the garage. At the same time, exploiting things in the forest that would otherwise go to waste.

“What is your current job?” he asked, curious to know what she’d chosen as a career instead of a job at an art gallery. He took another sip of his tea and placed it back on the table. Her question about werewolves had him wonder where to start. Because there was a lot to tell, and he didn’t know if she'd be interested in their history. But her additional questions gave him some sort of starting point. It was very few of them who could control their transformation, especially on a full moon. He’d stood in the bathroom for a good while before he’d managed to do it, and even that seemed a miracle. It took a lot of training for wolves to be capable of that. However, he wasn’t going to say this to her - or rather correct her assumption. He'd already caused enough fear about his race. “Our transformations are extremely painful, that’s one of the reasons we train to control them,” he explained. It was a lot less painful to transform nails to claws and teeth to fangs than it was to feel your whole body being ripped apart and for your bones to break and expand. “A bite is the only thing needed to become one yourself, but it can only occur at full moon. So, if I were to have bitten you tonight, you would have turned into one.” Another reason to be grateful for his control over his instincts earlier. “However, I was born an alpha just like my father and his before him.” He was born into an ancient line of werewolves in Spain. He could only assume that this was the main reason for the vampire attack on his pack. But he had yet to figure out which exact clan had done it.

Maeve perked up even more because it was indeed interesting, history and art and all the techniques which were used and invented and she was simply happy that he seemed to think so too. It was as if the already pretty comfortable - well, considering the constant thought hacking away in the back of probably both their minds -  atmosphere became more so. She automatically followed his eyes to the tribal artwork as soon as she had looked to him and found his focus elsewhere. So, he wasn’t the one only one behind the artistic décor around the house. While he wasn’t looking, her eyes wandered slowly back to him, looking at his face with a just as wandering thought. So, did this mean the house had been doing through generations of pack history as well? He hadn’t lived here for long, if he had only just arrived. She suddenly cringed a bit, at herself of course, when she got reminded about her first instinct as she had woken up and turned to look away from him as to hide the cringe itself. “Now I feel even worse about freaking out and almost knocking over the bedside table,” she said, although she originally only had been close to ripping the lamp out of its socket. But she could very well have been causing more damage in her frenzy. “Now knowing they are handmade. You’re quite the handy man, huh. Next thing I know and you tell me that you even build this house yourself.” Her smile was back as well as her eyes had returned to him. She couldn’t really look away. Not for very long at least. Maybe because it felt awkward?..
“But no,” she then replied, shaking her head lightly. “I can’t say I’m an artist myself. I just like looking and admiring pieces. I never got further than crayon doodles on cheap printer paper for the fridge or the occasional finger painting session. I was told I had a painter’s hand, though.” By that notion she carefully lifted her left hand up and spread of her fingers, looking at his, trying to see how that made sense. Her hands were a clear indication that she hadn’t been working with them. They were soft and smooth and over all pretty tiny. But so was her whole self. They weren’t as delicate as a ballerina or dancer but when she imagined herself holding a brush… she guessed she would kind of see it?
She lowered her hand again, placing it back under the cooling cloth-wrapped ice bag. “Do you know the magazine Clover?” she asked as sort of answer to the question he had followed with. “I work for that magazine as a second-on-command manager. So I oversee a lot of the stuff that goes into it. It’s not exactly what I had imaged I’d be doing but… when you think about it, it’s not too far off. I still get to use what I learned in school in some way.” And it payed the bills. Very well, actually. So would commission at an art gallery but this was a lot more stable and engaging.

The human’s ears sharpened as he began to let her in on what it meant to be what he was. A werewolf. However as soon as he weighted upon how she would’ve become one, had she been bitten - possibly by him, since he had been the only werewolf near her so far - she would have become one herself, she felt her stomach suddenly sucking in on itself. Just for a very short second. And she gulped as discreetly as she could. “I can get that. And yet you must have gone through that pain a couple of times just today. You were a.. You weren’t human like you are now when I saw you in the forest.” She was sure of it. She hadn’t gotten the best look, since it had been dark and her human eyes were far inferior in the dark, but she couldn’t get the image of the large furry wolf on two legs out of her head. And that hadn’t been what she was sitting next to right now. And somehow, sitting and talking with him, knowing it was him, had made the vision of the beast less scary. “But perhaps that’s why werewolves evolved the ability to take away pain. Since your transformations are so excruciating.” She leaned her head to one side as her big eyes looked at him with a sense of anticipation.

And then her eyes widened even more. “Alpha?” Rafael Silvera wasn’t just any werewolf. She didn’t get why it surprised as much as it did. “Wow.” What for maybe a moment had looked like she was about to get nervous about it a bright smile broke through unto her lips. “Not only did I meet my first ever werewolf. My first alpha as well. That exclaims how you’ve been talking about the pack as ‘yours’. Then is it on your blood? Novels and movies has always portrait someone becoming one when defeating an already existing alpha. But I guess that’s not reality?” She had so much more to learn. And the more she talked to Rafael, Maeve realized just that. How ignorant she must come across…

“Don’t be. If anything, the entertainment I got from it was worth it,” he said with a grin. It had looked rather amusing from his point of view. Besides, cracks or scratches in the wood would probably happen eventually. He had never been sensitive about those kinds of things. He looked around the room, at the pillars holding the foundation. His smile diminishing albeit still being there. It’d probably take him a long time, and he’d need help on certain aspects, but he could probably build a house of his own. “Yeah no, I just inherited it from the previous alpha.” He then returned his eyes to her as she replied to his question about her being an artist. He looked at her hand as she said she’d been told to have a painter’s hand, imagining her holding a paintbrush until she spread her fingers out. Rafael wouldn’t know what painter’s hands looked like. He supposed a lot of it was in the movement as well. He raised his gaze to her eyes as she asked him about a magazine. “I can’t say that I have.”  He never read magazines, nor would he probably remember if he’d heard the name of any. But when she explained that she worked for it, he could clearly see it. How a position like that would fit her. “That sounds like an interesting job.” He understood how her art-knowledge would be useful for a magazine. From the photoshoots to the final edit.

It was purely a good thing that things hadn't taken that turn. But it could as well have. If things had gone much worse. “You’re right.” She hadn’t imagined things back in the forest. He’d carried her home in his wolf form too, and for a moment he wondered what her reaction would have been like had he not been able to turn back. Waking up to a large werewolf with red eyes. At the very least, she’d probably thrown the lamp at him and tried to flee the house as fast as possible. Only bringing herself in more danger, and hence he’d chase her. It would have been a mess. “Well, we’re not able to take away our own pain… just from others to ourselves. But maybe you're right. It seems likely that we are better suited to deal with the pain.” He couldn’t be sure if this was part of the reason, but it seemed like a possibility.

Rafael nodded to confirm that he was an alpha. Of course, she wouldn’t be able to tell if she’d never met one before or compared his looks to another werewolf. But he had already talked about his pack as if he was their leader, so he wasn’t so sure why she found it surprising. “Yes, it has been quite the night for you,” he agreed as another smile found its way to his expression. “It is in my blood. But I’ve heard of rare cases where one became one by hard work. However, alphas fighting each other is a very common thing.” He had not once gotten along with another alpha. And it had been part of the reason why he’d always gotten kicked out of the packs he’d joined in Spain. Although, that was just as much because of him being a troubled kid. It had been especially bad when he was a teenager where his aggressiveness had been at its worst. He’d also gotten his first prison sentence during that time, but he liked to think that he’d learned a lot since then. And now that he had a pack of his own, he finally felt a happiness that he'd missed for all that time.

He took a larger sip of his tea before he got up to his feet. “Well, I really should go out there.” He glanced at the windows. It was important that he dealt with the body before sunrise. Before anyone else got its scent or worse, discovered the body. “The bathroom was just across from your room upstairs, feel free to take a shower and get comfortable with a book if it helps you fall asleep.” He looked back at her, wanting her to feel at home as much as possible. Despite the crazy and unusual circumstances of tonight. “Do you need anything else?”

Him seemingly having sound comedy in her little stunt as well as the grin that followed automatically ledged onto Maeve too, bringing forth a chuckling smile. Had he been someone else, someone close to her, she might’ve even swatted him for that comment, for finding her genuine freak out funny, although he really wasn’t wrong for thinking that. It must’ve looked very comical when looking back at it. What would she even have been able to do with a lamp. Even if the lamp had been chord-less and she could’ve show it around freely, he looked to be a guy who’d overpower her easily. If he wanted, that is. A thing she had come to understand that he didn’t. He had been so kind to her. Letting her stay at his place, worrying about her - in some way, she doubted it being anything close since they barely knew each other and probably wouldn’t get to know each other further. She had made entrance to the supernatural world, his world, but still she got the feeling they were still very far from one another. A shame really. Perhaps it could be changed, though… Thing was, she was really starting to feel more at ease and him looking upon his first impression of her - awake - in a more positive state made her feel good. Like, she hadn’t messed up completely.
Ah she thought. “Of course.” She shook her head with a bit of a squished grimace as she realized how what she had said had sounded overly optimistic and fairytale like and it kind of embarrassed herself. “I was thinking you’d just be able to sooth each other but I completely forgot about how you’d just be left with the same amount of pain in the end,” she explained, looking away for a short moment to change her expression to something more apologetic one, yet a trying smile kept her from looking like she cared too about being in the wrong and having to correct herself. She had a lot to learn. Her thought process probably also needed an update. So, to be able to laugh about herself was a good trait to have.

He wasn’t wrong that it had been quite the night for her and she couldn’t help her smile from growing significantly as her eyes lowered from him, and she readjusted her seating for something more comfortable where her arm wasn’t squished into the back support of the couch. Even if the cushioning was soft it still cramped up her shoulder. She then simply listened and she noticed more and more how she enjoyed just listening to when someone explained concrete things about all those new creatures she’d run into and probably already had but just never known about. She thought back to the book she had been offered, the book which would let her know everything she’d ever need. But it wasn’t the same as being told like this and she much preferred hearing about it from the source. Or not even the direct source but by word-of-mouth from who had the knowledge.

Him then suddenly getting to his feet, pulled her back a bit and she looked rather surprised up at him, reflectively moving around to also stand up herself, when he said something about needing to go out there. Into the woods. She turned to look over her shoulder to the dark windows and then back at him. It really shouldn’t have surprised her. “Oh yea, you did say something about you instinct itching,” she partly accidently blurted out. She must have kept him from his instinct, having it passed her mind in the time they had talked. Their conversation had been so nice, after all. She pressed for a convincing and thankful smile, wanting to hide the disappointment since she fully understood. “Thanks. I’ll be fine, I don’t need any more than you’ve already provided. I feel like you’re almost being too kind to me, Rafael. Are you sure about letting me stay here alone?” Of course, she wasn’t going to do anything! She was no thief and she’d like to think she was trustworthy but it just seemed very trusting of him to let a stranger stay in his home like that.

The house was very quiet, now that she had been left by herself inside it. She had been in large places before. Houses like his. Luxurious apartments. Big company buildings. But never actually alone like this. She simply wasn’t used to the space. And the quiet. She was used to an almost cramped home and constant sounds from cooking the kitchen or running and playing of her brothers, the TV running or a toilet being flushed. Even when she was alone in the house at home in Aston there was some creaking or cars driving by. Here there was none of that. She imagined howling wolves in the distance, but truth be told, her human ears could hear none of that. Only silence. It wasn’t all bad, she felt warm and strangely safe, it just made her feel… restless. Good thing he had allowed her to use his shower which was what she eventually took him up on after finishing her tea and placed it in the kitchen with the icepack - giving herself an excuse to look more around that way.
She came to know just how cold she must have been when the hot water had burned on her skin for the first few seconds. And as she even took the liberty to borrow some shampoo for her hair, she found a few hidden twigs that had been stuck in it this whole time. She had washed that morning but still it felt like she washed off a lot more dirt and grim than anticipated that second time. She felt good afterwards, even if the trip in only a towel back to her assigned room was very awkward. She didn’t have any spare clothes to her disposal so of course she simply dressed back in what she had been wearing. The nylon tights were not worth anything anymore so she didn’t bother and had them thrown in the first trash bin she found but the dress was luckily soft enough to be comfortable sleeping in. Sleep. Her eyes looked to the window in her room. It was very dark outside but all it took was a quick look at her phone to know that the time hadn’t even passed ten yet. She felt exhausted though. She had brought a book up with her, not sure where in the house she’d find it less intrusive to read - there or back in couch by the fire, but she was so tired that she completely forgot about it as she crawled under the covers. She even forgot that her head was still very damp because she instinctively put her head on the pillow and turned to lay on her side. And closed her eyes. Albeit..

Maeve Poe couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t even that she fell asleep and then woke up. No. The moment she had closed her eyes, she gulped and pulled a face as the horrors of the night immediately started to haunt her right then and there. The eyes of the dark skinned man. The vampire. The growl of the werewolf. The blood. The brutal …The brutal murder. She opened her eyes and it all disappeared but she felt her heartbeat having rose slightly already. She gently closed her hand around the pillowcase as she felt the phantom pains from the unhuman powerful grip of the vampire. But Maeve Poe was a stubborn woman. She wasn’t going to let something like that frighten her. She needed the sleep. She couldn’t possibly stay up all night. She curled her body up a bit and adjusted her position, closing her eyes again.

She had done many more attempts much like that until she had sat up to sit on the edge of the bed. She couldn’t fall asleep. Her body just didn’t allow her to. Adrenalin from the experience must have still run somewhere in her body, even if she couldn’t feel it. And mixed with the unfamiliar feeling of the place she was, that didn’t leave the optimal cocktail. So, she got up. And she got out of the room. There was one thing she knew that would calm her.
She hadn’t had the opportunity to look properly at the art pieces in Rafael’s home and there wouldn’t be a better time for that than now. In the morning she’d be back in Aston. Back to her normal everyday life. Her arms gently crossed, she started walking on bare feet down the second floor hallway, her eyes looking to the side admiring the paintings on the wall. Left there by the previous owner. Another werewolf, and alpha, like Rafael. She tried getting a feel for just who that could have been, like she got snippets of impressions of Rafael through his antler crafting. She stopped more permanently in front of one of the painting and let her eyes glide over all the aspects of it. The brush strokes. The colours. The image. The age. She was searching for the signature to see if she’d recognise the painter when she notices something else out of the corners of her eyes. She turned her gaze. A door not far from her stood open. Only slightly but by the angle she stood she had a perfect view inside the slim sliver into the room. She fought her meddling personality on a daily basis and usually she’d win with arguments of common sense, but the exhausted part of her didn’t even have the energy to start the fight because she found herself walking towards it with little to no hesitation. Her arms fell back down her side and she carefully pushed the door up a little more before stepping inside.
The room was dark as any other unused room, but it was taken care of easily by her turning on a stationary lamp on a desk in the room. It didn’t lit up everything but now she could at least see. See the wooden shelve - possibly another one of her host’s creations - filled with what looked like a collection of sorts. A mixture of different collections, since there wasn’t only one type of things. There were figures as well as books. And filling folders. It was very nicely organised and not overfilled. And like everywhere else it wasn’t completely covered in dust, but she guessed, that she’d still see an outline of the base of everything that wasn’t books, if she removed it. So, she reached out to one of the books, one that looked both more used and more often taken off the shelve. She had to stand up on her toes and use the shelve as a support to stretch herself long enough to reach it, but it worked in the end. Without her crashing everything to the floor. However when she tipped the book all the way out, a slip of folded paper fluttered down and landed by her feet, catching her attention. She leaned down and picked it up, feeling the thick quality of it. Just bordering between printer paper and craft cardboard, but the edges where it had been folded were getting pretty delicate so it was with delicate hands, that she un folded it, the book tugged under her arm for a moment. Names. Scribbled in in what looked like a list. Some of the names were crossed out. One had even been edited to another name entirely. She frowned in confusion as she turned her attention to the book. The paper had been slipped in beside it.

The sense that she was snooping was slowly creeping up on her and yet she carefully opened the book. He had said she was allowed a book to read. And the room hadn’t been locked… She turned to a random page and an old drawn image of a vampire - lanky, bald and with teeth long and sharp as bradawl - showed up next to informational text. The book was clearly not of that century but still new enough that it had been printed professionally. She scanned the pages without reading much until she turned to the next one where small hints of short notes having been written in pencil and faded and smudged over time. This was either a beloved book or just one that had been used a lot over time.

It would be nice if it worked like that. But unfortunately, it didn’t. The only consolation was that they were quicker to heal than other species, and so in that sense, it was sometimes worth taking someone else’s pain. “Yeah,” he said in a low voice. He could hardly blame her for not knowing the ins and outs of all species and their abilities, not even knowing of the supernatural until recently. On his feet, he nodded slowly to her notion about it being about his instincts. Because it wasn’t about that. His thoughts hadn’t been on that for a while. Luckily it had become nothing more than an itching annoyance. Something he could resist. And regardless, he needed to resist it. He couldn't afford to wait until daylight to deal with the body.

His lips curved into a smile as she said he was being too kind. He only did what he hoped someone would do for him if he ended up in a similar situation. If anything, the world needed more kindness and empathy. And it was just as much about securing another incident from happening, which he was convinced it would if she went into the night on her own. In all truth, he wasn’t keen on letting her stay alone in his house. There were secrets and objects that he kept hidden here, things that no one outside the pack should get to know about. But it was either that or dragging her out to deal with the vampire. And so far, he had no reason to believe that she wasn’t trustworthy. That she at the very least would be tonight, taking his charity into consideration. “I hope I will be.” In other words, he would only not be sure about his decision the moment she gave him a reason to. “Goodnight, Maeve.” He left the living area to place the mug in the sink of the kitchen, then placing his hands on the edge of the counter, inhaling deeply. Hoping that his nerves wouldn’t get to him once he was outside, because he could hardly take care of the body in his wolf-form. He grabbed a glass from the cabinet to fill with cold water that he quickly downed before he ventured outside.

The scent of the vampire appeared much stronger. And he knew the burning of it wouldn’t help avert attention from it, but there wasn’t much he could do about that. He carried the body into a spot further away from any houses, particularly his own to keep the evidence of his action at bay. And by the end of this, he hoped there'd be no evidence at all. He cleared the ground in the clearing before he prepared the spot for the fire, placing the body in the middle of it. He stayed with it until the body was disintegrated completely, keeping it at a very high temperature to speed up the burning. His members had all come by at the smell, and he'd explained the situation. He'd also told them that the human-victim, Maeve, currently was inside his house, so it wouldn't come as a surprise to them if they returned. They were then all ordered to keep guard and make sure that no one neared the surrounding area. Once the burning was over, he’d dug a deep hole for the remnants of ashes, not leaving the area until every little trace was covered up, so the clearing would look like it had when he'd first arrived.

It was with weary steps that he entered the house again, heading straight for the bathroom to wash off the worst of the dirt. He then heard a noise upstairs, a frown showing on his forehead because it didn't come from the bedroom. He slowly dried his hands in the towel as he listened more intently, mostly to confirm that there was a person in that room. He walked out of the bathroom toward the staircase. Stealthy and vigilant, thinking that there was a slight possibility that someone had snuck in since he hadn’t locked the door. He glanced into the bedroom with the emerald green covers to discover that nobody was inside. He closed his eyes for a moment while he let out a slow exhale. If there was one thing he didn’t want to deal with tonight it was to find the person he’d saved had decided to snoop around and probably steal from him. He couldn't see any other reason for why she’d be inside that room. He stopped in the doorway. His gaze landing on the human with a book in her hand. A very rare book on vampires that was passed down from the previous pack. And a note. A note that no one was meant to find. “What the hell are you doing?” he roared, angry, disappointed, and with the demand of an explanation. Because here he’d gone out of his way to help her, only to have her snoop in his personal things. He’d clearly made a huge misjudgment of character for thinking she had better manners and values than so.

What kind of book was this. The cursive writing as well as the words used were so old that she really had to strain herself to decipher any meaning to it. It was about vampires - or rather ’ vampyre ’ as they spelled it in the pages. She was pretty quick to just simply give up in actually reading the text and made do with just flipping through, looking at the drawn pictures - strange weapons, partially unfamiliar plants and more gruesome illustrations of these bloodsucking creatures; looking more and more like the one she had encountered as she got further towards the end of the book, but yet still depicted monstrous. In the end it was simply  childlike curiosity that held her from putting the book back on the shelve where she had found it and not any hunger for the knowledge that she could probably get from whatever was written in it. She…


The shock of the sudden roar and just the sheer anger that it brought with it, grabbed an iron grip around the human and immediately a startled scream passed over her lips in the same instant that she spun around, fast enough that she staggered and almost lost balance and fell into the shelve. Fright was ever so apparent in her face the moment her widened eyes stared at the broad male in the door. The scream had fortunately quickly halted as her throat had closed up by the gasp Rafael’s abrupt reappearance had forced out in the middle of it. Hastily she had moved a hand up to her chest to cramp tightly around the fabric of her dress. Her poor heart was beating too fast. It hurt and she already felt faint. But she stayed to. “Rafael?” she burst out completely stunned. Then her eyes fell to the hand still holding the book. And then quickly back up at him. “I’m so sorry! You told me I could borrow a book. And I couldn’t fall asleep.” She had to calm down. But first she had to explain what was doing on. The fury in his eyes, no, his entire person was possibly more intimidating than the beast she had seen in the forest. “The door was open, I didn’t know this room was off-limit. I should’ve known. I… I didn’t mean to.”
She breathed in as deep as her nerves allowed her before she slowly exhaled through O’ed lips. Repeating until she felt the startled tension dim in her. She was aware that she had trespassed, accidentally, which she could understand him being displeased with, but she wasn’t in the slightest aware of the seemingly grave nature of what else she had done. She didn’t know the importance of the book or how it wasn’t for her eyes.

Instinctively and unconsciously, she leaned the last millimeter up against the shelve, not noticing how a carved figure of solid and strong wood started wobbling on the edge above her head. Being awfully close to fall. Maeve’s eyes were still only looking at Rafael, looking more or less like a shamed puppy than anything. Or a shocked mouse. “I’m sorry,” she reuttered, this time with a lower and more genuine tone and the hand by her chest carefully loosened its grip as it hurt less. She gulped, discreetly, although it probably wasn’t as concealed as she imaged.

He didn’t know if he’d expected her to be this startled, because he would have found out that she'd snooped around regardless. And surely, she'd taken that into consideration prior to entering the room. Then again, she'd probably not heard him in the hallway which would explain the initial shock. It was a good thing, however. He wanted her to tremble. He wanted her to fear him and this new world. Just a bit. He lowered his gaze to her chest, her quickened heartbeat giving him a bit of that satisfaction. His dark eyes then returned to her. He most of all wanted to grab her by the shoulders and yell at her, let all the frustrations out at once. Instead, he strode to her side and yanked the book out of her grip without a care for whether it hurt her fingers. “I should have never trusted you.” His tone bore the same anger and disappointment as before. Albeit, he was mostly disappointed in himself. Of why he’d suddenly acted differently because of her. He looked down at her, trying to decipher what it’d been that had caused it. Her innocent doe eyes? That she was human? That he'd falsely believed her to return his favor by behaving once he'd left? They were all factors that mattered none in the end. She was a complete stranger. He should have never let his guard down for that reason alone. He scoffed at her explanation. That she’d done it because he’d allowed her to read a book - as if it hadn’t been obvious that he’d meant the books in the living room. There was a vast difference between a common room and that of a private one. At least in his house.

Rafael’s eyes darted up to a sculpture that made noise the moment she leaned up against the shelf. He put his free hand on her upper arm to force her out of the way, his grip tightening around it, fueled by the anger he felt towards her. He then let go of her to grab the sculpture just as it tipped over the edge and fell. He exhaled sharply as he looked at the sculpture in his hand. Unharmed. It was a rare wood-carved figure of Faunus, the Roman God of the forest, harboring magic that he’d yet to grasp. The eyes in the figure glowed a translucent green. Something that first diminished once he placed the figure back on the shelf. He then placed the book back before scanning the rest of the bookcase to make sure that everything was in its rightful place. “I saved you out there,” he said, not thinking she truly realized that she might have died if he hadn't come at the time he had. He then turned around to face her. “I took care of the body so no one can tie either of us to the scene and this is what I return to. You snooping around in my personal belongings.” He tried to gather some understanding from her eyes, but he knew it was a lost cause. He would never understand why she'd decided to read through that book and note. He wished she’d just appreciated his help and stayed in her room. Leaving him out of this dilemma and mistrust between them. But he supposed that wasn't where the events of the night planned to end.

He scoffed. Not intentionally? He couldn’t believe she would go around in a complete stranger’s house like this if she hadn’t meant to snoop. She’d only done it because she knew he was out and thought she could get away with it. He felt like an idiot not having caught on to her little comment about trusting her earlier. He should have known then that she had ill intentions in mind. But it wasn't like he'd had much of a choice except trusting her, his first priority at the time being to take care of the body. He crossed his arms as she said it was a misunderstanding, intrigued to hear what had made her walk into the darkened room if it wasn’t to snoop. “So, you’re telling me you just happened to pick up one of my most valuable books by coincidence?” He shook his head and moved a hand up as a gesture for her not to answer, knowing what she'd say. “Look, I don’t care if you were curious or if you hadn’t intended to anger me. You shouldn’t have done it. You were just supposed to be thankful for what I did and get some rest.” His voice remained loud throughout the whole speech. Yelling when it wasn't the least necessary. “Was that too much to ask?” His eyes turned to a glowing red as he stared at her, only barely holding his transformation back. It had always been harder to control on a full moon and then she pulled this. He’d always been quick to anger, but to add this on top of everything else that had happened that night. He didn’t need that. Not when he already had so much on his mind and was fighting to stay in his human form.

He breathed out as he averted his gaze from her to the window. He needed some fresh air. But he could hardly leave her alone, so instead, he was stuck with the heavy air of the room and a person he wanted out of his sight. “I will take you to Atheria,” he declared in a voice that had calmed to a more tolerable level. He then looked back at her with his natural brown eyes. He was done playing nice, but he had to remain in control. Otherwise, he’d just escalate this to something much worse. And it wasn’t her fault entirely. Perhaps in another time and mindset, he’d taken this incident much lighter and forgiven her. Perhaps he’d even been willing to talk about what she’d read or seen. But this wasn't one of those times. “Now,” he added before he took the first steps towards the hallway and headed for the entrance hall. Looking past the fact that he didn't want to leave his pack. “And we’ll just forget that this happened.” He thought this would be for the best. Because if they kept arguing, he didn't know if he'd be able to hold his transformation back and he couldn’t exactly allow her to stay after what she’d done. Neither did he think she'd want to. After his reaction, she'd certainly want to get away from him as soon as possible.

Her startled exclamation had him furrow his brows and lean back slightly. It made him doubt his initial assumption of her wanting to get away from him. Because even if they’d be able to talk about this in a calmer manner, surely, she’d not want to be near him. And she shouldn’t want to. She'd witnessed him murder someone in cold blood. If that didn't scream bad guy, he didn't know what did. Yet, she’d not freaked out to him about that. Instead, she'd treated him like any normal person. Looked at him like any normal person, despite knowing that he was the monster she’d seen in the forest. But regardless of those prior moments, they'd shared, her leaving was for the best. Because he didn't want anything else to do with her. He gave her a slower nod as she said she understood before he headed out of the room. However, he’d only just reached the staircase when she uttered a request. He stopped and let out an exasperated sigh. He shouldn’t be annoyed by something so simple, yet it was so easy for the slightest thing to piss him of at this point. “Go ahead.” He turned his head over his shoulder as he looked at her. He gave a little wave towards the room as he turned his gaze ahead of him again and walked down the stairs.

He opened the double doors downstairs to let the cold breeze fill up the entrance. Hoping it'd help cool his mind. He then unbuttoned his shirt, looking down at the stains of blood and dirt, not wanting to be reminded of the vampire by it, nor the dreadful scent of burning flesh that he could distinguish from it. He got rid of it in the laundry room before he grabbed a pack of cigarettes in his leather jacket and went out to sit on the first step of his porch. He took one out and balanced it between two fingers as he ignited it. He inhaled it and slowly exhaled the smoke out, immediately feeling the sense of relaxation he was seeking.

With the door open, he was able to hear her steps, ensuring that she did indeed only return to the room. Once she descended downstairs he inhaled deeply, preparing himself for the words she might throw at him. His back was scarred with a few long and distinguishable lines that were visible even from a good distance, most of them were claw marks but he also had a few scars from knives, although they were mostly present on his arms and chest. All from times where he’d been in fights. He took another drag of the smoke when the door closed behind him, her first words making him turn his head with a raised brow. He’d thought it was rather apparent. But then again, what did you say to someone after the argument they’d just had? “Sometimes.” He turned his head back and extended his arm to flick the ash into a tray he kept on the porch. He usually only smoked when he was drinking or stressed. And the cigarette combined with the calmness of the forest helped immensely on the latter, so if she’d said it in judgment, she should just be grateful that he’d taken the time to do it before their ride to town.

After a few silent moments, he patted his hand next to him on the porch, inviting her to sit next to him. And whether she did, he moved one leg on the step above its current position to turn towards her. “I am sorry for the way I reacted,” he apologized in a sincere voice. It was something he’d always been quick to do, knowing that even though he believed her to have been in the wrong, he’d been so as well. Rafael didn’t know why he always got so angry, but it was something he’d struggled with ever since he was a kid. And no matter how much he tried to combat that, it was always just there, right under the surface. Never able to be completely under his control. It was as if the beast in him took over those times. He placed the smoke between his lips as he kept his gaze on her and once he’d exhaled, he continued, “The book you held. It has been in the werewolves' possession for generations. It contains valuable information that's been passed down for hundreds of years.” It wasn't him trying to justify his reaction in any way. It was simply him being willing to tell her what the book was about. Rafael had made it his mission to continue that legacy. One of which was aligned with his beliefs and ambitions for their kind. Besides, it was pretty clear to him that she wasn't a thief. Even if he still had many doubts about the type of person she was.

It was clear to see that she hadn’t expected his apology. It was a vast shift from the anger he’d showed moments prior, telling her that he should have never trusted her. He knew it was unlikely that they'd be friends after tonight. But he didn’t want them to be on bad terms either. After all, he was fairly convinced that she didn't carry any intention of crossing him or his pack. What had happened upstairs hadn’t been that bad in hindsight, he genuinely thought she deserved the apology, and… then there was the fact that one of her good friends was a hunter. Rafael had dealt with a few of them since he’d settled in Gaia. Most of the time he’d tried to lead them away from his territory or hidden tracks from them. And if they didn't make amends he thought she just might tell him. He couldn’t trust her not to. So, it gave him even more of a reason to apologize.

His lips curved into a smile at her sarcastic remark. Even if she was after that information, being it a spy or a collector, it seemed very far-fetched. The whole night had started with her getting attacked, after all. That could hardly be the approach such a person would have taken. Still, there was always a chance. He took another drag of the smoke as he moved his eyes from her to the forest. It occurred to him that part of the reason he’d even suspected her to steal was because of his own mentality. Living amongst criminals for most of his life and for the greatest part of it being one himself. He exhaled slowly, the smoke flowing into the cold air. An uneasiness settled in his stomach to something much calmer when she admitted that she shouldn't have done it. He was happy that they’d both admitted to their wrongdoings so they now could move on from it. Especially considering the rest of tonight's events.

Her question surprised him. Not so much that she smoked, but more so that it meant she didn’t mind sitting here with him, having whatever moment this was. And maybe just extending it a bit. After all, his own cigarette was more than halfway smoked. He was about to agree, give her one without the need of trading when she pulled out a few items from her pockets. “You can keep those,” he replied, his eyes filled with amusement. “It’s the least I can do to make up for my behavior.” He grabbed the cigarette pack to pull another out, then handing it to her and once she’d taken it, he’d ignite a small flame from his fingertip that she could light it with. It was also the reason why he didn’t get cold. “I can generate heat and fire, so no I'm not cold.” Fortunately, it was part of his pyrokinesis. Otherwise, he’d probably dislike the English weather much more. If she’d get a chance to feel his skin, she’d sense that it was warm. A teasing glimmer then appeared in his eyes as he looked at her. The way she restrained herself from looking was rather obvious. “I'll put on a shirt before we leave if it's distracting you.” He already knew she’d deny the statement, but if she reacted the slightest to his comment, it was all the more worth saying it.

His eyes didn’t stray from hers as the flame flickered between them. Her astonishment was rare to come by, but he was sure it wouldn’t be the last time she’d witness something similar. Not now that the door to the supernatural world had been opened. Once her cigarette was ignited, the flame vanished, and his hand lowered to rest on the edge of the wooden planks. It had indeed been a convenient superpower to have growing up. Without it, he might not have survived the cold winter nights on the streets. “Yeah,” he murmured, flicking the ash again before he took another drag. “Have you been?” he asked, glancing to her side again. He knew it was a popular holiday destination for people who lived here, but also that they often visited the touristy islands, some just for the weather. Often missing out on authentic Spain.
He thought about her comment for a moment - whether she was missing out on anything. In some sense she was. But living life without knowing might have been more peaceful. Besides the positive of not having to deal with the controllability of one's superpower and other side effects. “If you could pick a superpower, which one would you choose?” he asked curiously, often finding that random questions like that told a lot about a person.

He couldn’t have prevented the smile from forming on his lips at her initial reaction. The quickened heartbeat. The flushed cheeks. The stumbling sentence. He didn’t try to hide that he very much enjoyed it. Of course, she quickly composed herself. His smile widened slightly at her explanation before he gave a simple nod, took one last drag of the smoke, and extinguished it in the tray. He returned his eyes to her as she tried to put his mind to the reverse scenario. “I think I’d be a bit more than that,” he said, glancing at her upper body before he rose from his seat. No, had he found her like that, they’d not be talking right now. However, it was common for shapeshifters and werewolves to see each other this way, so it wasn’t like he’d stared her down if such was the case.

He walked back inside to put on a shirt as well as retrieve his car keys and wallet. One of his pack members had returned in which he'd given him a quick explanation to where he was going. He returned to her outside and locked the door behind him. “Are you ready?” he asked before he walked the last few steps towards her. It wasn’t like he was going to stand and wait if she wasn’t, so it was more a cue for her to get up. He wasn’t sure when the first bus would depart from Atheria, but he had not changed his mind about her not being welcome to stay, and he really needed to get some rest. He walked down the steps to his porch towards the garage, clicking a button to the doors on his keychain before he entered a black SUV. Once she’d sat in one of the passenger seats, he backed out and drove down the gravel road that led to his mansion and towards the nearest paved street. “Do you visit the woods often?” he asked as they drove through a quite packed part of it. He hadn't taken her for the outdoors type, but many liked to resort to nature for some peace of mind. Even though she might not be so inclined to visit after tonight's events.

Maeve gently shook her head as a pre-reply. “Sadly, no. Family vacations have either been to Italy or Greece. Or back to England for a weekend to visit my grandparents or other family.” And while her work brought her internationally as well, it had yet to bring her to Spain. Recently she had been reminded of a place in Spain, however, that had made her look up plane tickets. Only to close the website without getting anywhere because… how could she go travelling now? She wouldn’t even be able to take time off from work with the busy season being about and another one being just around the corner. Christmas. Then winter. And valentine’s day. Spring. It suddenly felt like nonstop now that her thought wandered towards it. And of course, how could she travel the world now knowing what she did? She sighed faintly and as she looked at Rafael she sent him a kind smile. A content one. She wanted to ask him the same question, if he’d ever been in England or only the Gaia-region but he was faster.
Quickly, both her brows shot further up in her forehead and she clearly showed the surprise for just a moment before transforming into visible thought. “Oh? Hmm, I actually don’t… know,” she answered truthfully as she realized the oddity of it. And then she chuckled, moved the cigarette to her lips to take a calming draw of the tobacco. “One would think that I’d have spent my time imagining that rather than sitting around being bitter.” She slowly blew the smoke in a stream downwards by pulling her bottom lip a little bit in. The contemplative expression stayed on her face for some more time as she probably for the first time in a long time - years - gave it some thought. What would she like to be able to do? Fly? Move things with her mind? Control fire like him? Her eyes distractedly feel to his hand, holding the cancer-stick and then softly glided right back up to his eyes. Narh. “Wouldn’t it be fun to be able to go into paintings? You know, experience the world inside what was painted. Maybe you’d be able to actually go back in time that way too but without fucking everything up like in those time travelling movies.” She crossed her arm over herself and tapped the ash from her cigarette on the ground beside her, and away from him. “I remember seeing Mary Poppins doing something like that. Sorry, that was a long-winded answer.” Her tone abruptly changed in the midst of it and she once again shook her head, but this time at herself.

I think I’d be a bit more than that.
Surely the little human was only projecting whatever it was she thought she sensed. She was the one with the inappropriate thoughts - she was only human after all. And yet while she was fast to suppress them she couldn’t help but notice the teasing glimmer in his eyes again as he stood up from the porch. Oh, he was a beast. In more ways than one and yes, he had without a doubt seen her flush involuntarily before but she was happy her back was turned to him and his to her this second time. This just was ridiculous. Flirting with another man, one who had seemed to want to throw her out the nearest window just fifteen minutes ago, nonetheless. She should be ashamed.. What was she? Some kind of mimx? Most definitely not.. With Rafael having gone back inside the house for.. some reason, she took a good, big drag of her cigarette, really feeling the smoke and nicotine. Desperately distracting and re-settling herself. And before she knew it he was back.
“Hm?” She looked back up at him beside her, her body showing signs of actually not wanting to stand up or uncurl from the cozy porch. Her subconscious not feeling up for having to get out into the dark forest. She wasn’t so much afraid of what was out there but she would lie if she didn’t prefer staying where she was. Because frankly; it was nice now that thing had calmed down again.
Also, he was dressed again. Ah, distractions gone. Good. “Ye-, Yea. Just..” As soon as she had caught on she started looking for placed around her to put out the half-smoked tobacco roll and decided on a gravelly part of the dirt just where the steps ended. She wasn’t about to squash a bud right into the marvelous wood work she guess Rafael must have done. Again, that would just be rude. She then rose herself and after pulling the jacket probably down she followed him, silently.

Maeve allowed herself to get into the frontal passenger seat next to the werewolf. Of course there was a concern for it being awkward had she sat in the back but for the most part she had just come to enjoy his company again. She made sure to buckle up and almost immediately she started to hold on to the seat belts with both hands near her chest, the rest of her posture was relaxed, though. And a yawn became inevitable just before the small talk continued. “No. The most nature you’d usually see me in is the city park,” she said as her eyes look at him driving and then straight through the window where the road was dark ahead where the strong headlights didn’t reach. A bit eerie she had to admit. But it had been the same when she had taken that taxi all the way to the forest in the first place. “Do you often find lost people out there?“ she asked, again, glancing towards him and leaving her gaze there for now. Watching his focused eyes on the road, his hands on the wheel and his overall comfort in the car. She hadn’t been driving much since the crash.