Chapter Thirteen #2
Julius asks questions about the life of non-Coven witches, and two more wolves join our table, one taking the remaining seat and the other pulling up a chair.
As we talk and eat, I find that I’m enjoying myself.
Our table isn’t as raucous as last night’s, but it’s relaxed and lighthearted, the air of camaraderie thick enough to taste, and I drink it in, feeling like I did when I first met Bishop.
Like I’d found something I’ve been searching for all my life.
This isn’t a replacement for my home in London, with Lenora.
Nothing here would fill my witch side. But I have two aspects, and this is what the other side seeks: a place where I can relax and be myself, freed from society’s expectations.
I can eat what I like, say what I like, and lose myself in the moment without fear of judgment.
“What are you and Miss Cordelia doing this afternoon?” Claude asks Bishop. “I heard you were spending some time together.”
“I’m taking her out into the forest for a private lesson. She wishes to explore her werewolf side.”
Claude’s brows shoot up, and Julius breaks into choked laughter as the younger werewolves snicker and elbow each other.
“A private lesson?” Charlie says. “Aren’t you supposed to wait until after the wedding for that?”
As Bishop glares, Claude clears his throat. “Charlie? Don’t forget we have a young lady at the table.”
I smile and hope I didn’t embarrass myself by blushing. “Oh, I appreciate a ribald sense of humor. It isn’t something I get in London drawing rooms. As for the lesson, Bishop is going to teach me how to use my nose.”
Julius starts choking again, and I rap him on the arm.
“Sorry,” he says. “While there are many things Bishop could teach you how to use, I couldn’t figure out how your nose would be among them. Clearly I lack creativity.”
“Julius…” Bishop growls, and there’s a definite pink to his cheeks.
“And you call yourself a doctor?” I say to Julius, my eyes wide. “You have a woefully inadequate appreciation of anatomy. If you don’t know how the nose can be used, I won’t tell you. You’ll need to find out for yourself.”
The younger werewolves burst into peals of appreciative laughter, and I congratulate myself on the response, even as I might be a little shocked at my boldness. It feels good, though, letting down those barriers without fear of censure.
“Bishop is giving me a scenting lesson,” I say.
“Well, that does sound boring,” Julius says. “Isn’t there anything more interesting you could teach your bride-to-be, Cousin?”
Bishop is definitely flushing now, and it’s adorable. It also helps ensure that no one is watching my face heat.
“Enough,” Bishop growls. “Cordelia is humoring you. Don’t make her regret it.”
“Oh, I’m fine. You seem a little out of sorts, though.” I peer at him. “Are you shy?”
As the others burst out laughing again, Bishop blusters before narrowing his eyes. “No, I’m not shy. I’m respectful.”
“But I don’t feel disrespected by such talk. Also, I don’t think it’s respect for me that makes you blush.” I turn to Julius. “That would be an odd physiological reaction, wouldn’t it, Doctor?”
More laughter. I reach to pat Bishop’s hand. “You make far too easy a target. Yes, I accept that you’re being respectful, and that coloration in your cheeks is anger, not embarrassment.”
He grumbles, and then says, “If you’re done needling me, may we go?”
“We may.”
When we’re outside, I murmur, “Did I go too far? I was trying to show I’m relaxing around you, perhaps coming to view you as my future mate.”
“You were fine,” he says as we reach the path. “Even if you obviously had far too much fun.”
After maybe a dozen steps, he glares my way. “No one has ever accused me of being shy.”
“No woman ?”
His color rises even as his eyes snap. “I’m just more particular than most wolves. Particular and private in private matters.”
“Well, if your Pack mates would consider ‘shy’ an insult, I apologize.”
He eyes me for a trick and then nods. “They know I’m not as open about such things as most wolves.
They’ll find it amusing that my bride mistakes it for shyness.
As you heard last night, I wasn’t raised in the Pack.
Julius and I grew up as human as possible, and I don’t think you’d call me ‘shy’ if I were a regular man of society. ”
“No, I’d call you prudish, as most of them are.”
He sputters.
I move aside a branch. “They’re prudish in front of women and bawdy in front of other men.
They can call it being ‘respectful’ to the ladies, but really, they want to keep us in our place, with our knees clenched until our wedding night.
Even after that, they wouldn’t want us to enjoy the experience or we might seek it outside marriage.
” I frown. “Which has always struck me as odd. If we enjoyed it within marriage, we’d have no need to seek it outside. ”
“While I don’t claim to be an expert on marriage, I don’t think either partner only seeks intimate relations outside a marriage because it’s not good inside it.”
“True,” I say. “Or that would lay the blame for the philanderer on their spouse.”
“I do still take your point about men’s reticence in front of women. I’ll argue that, for some, it really is respect—we wouldn’t want women to think we’re trying to embarrass them. Or seduce them.”
“Then I take your point as well, and I won’t tease you about it.” I look around. “Are we going somewhere specifically? Or just getting farther from the house?”
“Somewhere specifically. This lesson is best conducted in a field.”
We continue for another quarter mile through dense forest, and come out into a meadow, maybe a couple of acres in size with a creek burbling through it.
“This is lovely,” I say, scanning the field. “Was it intentionally cleared?”
He nods. “For games and such. We like the forest, but open land has its…”
He trails off as I lift my nose, inhaling.
“Is that why you brought me here?” I ask.
“Is what—?” He must catch the scent. “Damn it, no.”
He stalks off toward the source of the smell. I want to call him back and say I’d like to track it myself, but he’s moving too fast. When he reaches the spot, he grunts in annoyance.
I start to catch up, but he lifts a hand. “Don’t come closer.”
“I’ve seen dead animals, Bishop,” I say as I continue walking. In a few yards, I reach flattened grass and the remains of a deer, the bones picked nearly clean.
“It’s from last night’s hunt,” he says. “I didn’t know they brought their kill here.”
“It’s definitely been eaten. I’m guessing that’s from the Pack. Do they eat as wolves?”
He looks over sharply. “A deer isn’t a human,” he says coolly. “If you find the consumption of raw meat distasteful, then I’d suggest you shouldn’t have eaten the tartare at lunch.”
“Oh, don’t get your hackles up. I’m just surprised that they could eat after last night’s huge dinner.”
He exhales a sharp breath, akin to a laugh. “They’re werewolves. They could eat three dinners in a row, and then wonder why they’re too stuffed to move.”
I walk around the remains of the deer. “Is it like with wolves? Where the Alpha eats first?”
“The Alpha does eat first, but I’ve heard that isn’t the way of wild wolves. There are customs among werewolves where I suspect we’ve styled ourselves after misconceptions of wolf behavior, rather than the real thing.”
“Like man-eating?”
He stiffens, and I hurry on.
“I know that isn’t a thing Pack wolves do,” I say. “It’s part of what makes them Pack. It’s just some lone wolves who…” I glance at him. “Er, yes. You and your family were lone wolves. Sorry.”
“You’re right, though. Man-eaters aren’t welcome in the Pack, and if Julius or I had done that, we’d have been denied entry.
But while man-eating can be a mark of brutality—wolves who don’t bother to avoid it—it can also be a lack of training.
Like a wolf, a werewolf’s instinct is to chase, kill, and eat.
Julius and I were taught to never transform while hungry or around humans, to be sure we don’t lose control and wake up… ” He trails off.
“Next to a human body?”
He nods. “That was a more graphic explanation than required.”
“Graphic would be describing the state of that body, Bishop. I might not be a full werewolf, but I’m not human either. You don’t need to be so circumspect.” I peer around. “Should we use the remains, then? You hide a bone and I try to find it?”
He stares at me.
“Oh,” I say. “Do I need to be more circumspect with you ?”
He shakes his head. “No, I just wondered whether you were joking. If you’re serious and you don’t find it offensive, then yes, since the smell is definitely noticeable, this would be an excellent place to start.”