Chapter 101: The Woman on the Black Wolf

Annelise returned a little late in the night.

She pulled off her little cross sack and threw it on a nearby chair before falling on the small bed, spreading both arms out.

"Della," She whispered, glancing back at the small woman at the edge of the bed, facing the wall.

Whenever he lay down, she was always pressing herself against the wall even when she slept, as though she wanted to merge herself with the wall and just get it over with.

"Hm?" Della looked up at her, "Welcome back,"

"Thanks," Annelise replied. Then she took another look at Della again, although she couldn’t see her face properly from this angle, "How was your day?"

"It was ok," The reply was a little too quiet, and she had taken a second too long to reply.

"Tell me what happened. How was your time with Darren?" Annelise sat up this time, gently nudging Della’s back so she would also face her.

Della remained facing the wall, inches away from kissing the wood.

"Are you sure you’re ok? Did something happen between you two while I was away?"

"No," She let out a small, almost inaudible sigh, "Darren was... nice all through,"

"So...?"

"Nothing,"

"There’s definitely something," Annelise nudged her again, this time a little more insistently, "Come on, talk to me,"

"I just—" She bit her lips hard, "I’m the problem. He asked about how I grew up, and I ended up repeating my bad habits, which made me freak out, so I left,"

"Oh, Della," Annelise gently squeezed her shoulders.

"I embarrassed myself."

"You did not,"

"I did. He asked about my childhood, and when I told him what he could, I caught him staring at me like...I was pitiful. I just don’t know how to explain the look in his eyes, but it made me so nervous and... Insecure,"

"I’ve known Darren for a while now. I’m pretty sure he didn’t look at you pitifully. I’m sure maybe...you said something that made his heart break or something,"

"I don’t want people looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like I’m..." She hesitated. "...worth feeling sorry for."

Annelise reached over and gently turned Della around until they were facing one another, "Listen to me carefully." Her voice was calm but unwavering. "Darren wasn’t pitying you."

"Then why did he look so sad?"

"Because he cares."

Della immediately shook her head, "He barely knows me."

"And?"

"People don’t... care that quickly."

"They do." Annelise smiled faintly. "Good people do."

For a long moment, she simply looked at the young woman before her, "You truly believe you’re cursed, don’t you?."

Della didn’t answer.

"You think your existence ruins everyone who gets close to you."

Still nothing.

"Well, if that’s the case, it means I’m ruined too, right?"

Della’s gaze whirled back to her.

"Because we are close now. We wake up in the same house, and we speak every day, and I feed you your medicine every morning before I leave,"

"I—"

"I’m not cursed by you, Della," Annelise finished, her voice so kind that it almost broke, "I don’t, and I have never for once believed that Rot-bloods curse people and that they are bad wolves. Whatever Katherine did to Malachi — she did it because she IS a bad wolf, not because she was born that way."

Della’s eyelashes trembled.

"I don’t know who spent years convincing you of the lie that you’re cursed and you deserve nothing..."

A small tear rolled down her face.

"But they did a thorough job."

Silence lingered between them, then Annelise leaned forward and wrapped both arms around her, "You are not a curse."

Della remained stiff at first.

"You never were."

Another few seconds passed before she slowly melted into the embrace. Della held on to her words with everything she had, hoping that one day, she would learn to start believing them.

.

.

.

Much later that night, the cottage had fallen into silence. The lantern burned low, painting warm amber shadows across the wooden walls.

Annelise was already asleep, curled beneath her blanket with one arm dangling lazily over the edge of the bed.

Della, however, stared at the ceiling.

Sleep refused to come, as always. It left her mind wandering around everything that had happened so far.

Eventually she slipped quietly from the bed, "I’ll only be a minute," she whispered, more to herself than anyone else.

She stepped outside, where the town was now asleep.

Moonlight washed over the dirt paths, while crickets chirped somewhere beyond the cottages. Della crossed toward the old well beside Annelise’s house.

She lowered the bucket, drew up cool water and drank slowly. The cold eased the dryness in her throat, and then she gently dropped the bucket and made to return to the cottage when...

A twig suddenly snapped, and her head whipped around. She looked at the darkness in front of her, squinting her eyes slightly so she could make out the shapes better.

Nothing.

The breeze blew softly against her face, carrying the unmistakable scent of pine...and something else.

The same scent that’d been all around her the night she had been chased down by rogues.

Rot!

Her heartbeat slowed instead of quickening, and she remained standing where she was. Her instinct screamed at her that she wasn’t alone, and she listened to it without question.

A dark figure suddenly burst from the trees, its eyes glowing a sickly blue.

A Rogue!

It didn’t howl or growl as they usually did, and the eerie silence its attack carried instantly tripled her fear.

It didn’t hesitate, and lunged into the air. Instinct moved before thought, and she threw herself sideways as filthy claws sliced through the air where her throat had been.

She hit the ground hard, and pain shot through her shoulder.

The rogue spun with impossible speed, saliva dripping from twisted jaws. Its eyes locked onto her again, and she began crawling backwards away from it.

She opened her mouth to scream for Annelise to help her, but the Rogue was already on her again.

She spun around quickly out of the way, her thoughts running wild. She couldn’t help but think that yelling for Annelise to help would draw attention from other cottages, and she couldn’t risk the peace she’d found here by doing that.

Della’s gaze darted wildly instead, and it fell on a broken fence.

One splintered support beam.

She ran toward it and grabbed it with both hands, then turned around and faced the charging creature with a bold look on her face.

The look in his eyes was even worse than the last one she had encountered, and its dirty, bloody fur and teeth hinted at the Moonlight. It snarled under its breath, eyes locked against hers.

"You’re not hurting me this time," Della groaned under her breath, her palms beginning to sweat as she tightened her grip on the beam, "I’m gonna live long, and I would protect my baby...so fuck off!!!"

Closer...

Closer...

The Rogue crashed into the beam, and Della pivoted just enough for its weight to carry it past her. With every ounce of strength left inside her body, she drove the sharpened timber upward.

It pierced through the creature’s chest, and the impact knocked them both backwards, especially Della.

The rogue let out a horrible choking sound, but she refused to let it go. Her chest felt tight from the horrible impact and backlash, but she let out a roar herself and shoved harder.

The stake finally burst through its back, blood running down its body and back. The creature convulsed once, twice, and she watched as the blue glow in its eyes dimmed.

Then, it fell still.

Dead.

She let out a ragged breath, stumbling backwards with one trembling hand instinctively covering her stomach, "You’re safe..." She whispered to the life inside her, "I’ve got you..."

She could hardly believe it herself.

She had actually killed a rogue on her own.

She stared down at her hands, wondering how she had mustered the strength to do all that. Asteria was still fast asleep, right?!

Another gnawing chill crawled across the back of her neck, and Della stiffened once more.

Someone was watching her again. Another...rogue?!

As slowly as one could move, she lifted her head and focused on the direction the feeling was coming from.

Far beyond the tree line, where moonlight barely reached, a wolf stood. It was quite massive — far bigger than most wolves she’d seen, and its fur was jet-black.

Upon its back sat the silhouette of a woman. She was motionless, but Della was pretty sure that she was looking straight in her direction.

The distance swallowed every detail of her face, leaving only a long cloak shifting gently in the night wind. For one moment that seemed almost endless, neither woman moved.

If Della knew she’d come out here, kill a rogue and end up having a staring competition with a woman that pushed unnatural chills down her spine, she would have just remained in bed.

And just like that, the wolf turned around and walked away, disappearing into the darkness along with the woman.

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