“It is the dim haze of mystery that adds enchantment to pursuit.”
Antoine Rivarol
Persephone Gleason hated parties. In fact, she had hated any kind of social gathering since the car accident when she was just eleven-years-old that had left her scarred and partially paralyzed. But her best friend, Celia, had persuaded her “just this once” to attend the Halloween gala in the infamously haunted Tipton Mansion on the edge of town. The lights would be dimmed, she was promised, and a mask, as well as an invitation, were required for entry. In the end, Persephone had reluctantly relented because the event was also a fundraiser for a local charity that supported the children of domestic trauma. An issue she was all too familiar with.
So here she was, sitting at a table on the edge of the dance floor and feeling every bit as out of place as she'd feared even though a white satin mask covered most of her scarred face. She wanted to go home but since Celia had driven them and was having a good time, Persephone was reluctant to end the evening for her.
With a sigh she set aside the Shirley Temple she'd been nursing and rose to her feet. The skirts of her powder blue Cinderella gown rustled as she threaded her way through the maze of tables and party-goers, her lameness and the press of bodies slowing her retreat, until she reached the open doors leading onto the terrace where more masked party-goers had found their way outside. Vampires, warrior queens, pirates, kings, and even a strange Marie Antoinette, complete with head under one arm, roamed the vast, slate floor chatting, with some wound around one another in heated embrace. Feeling oddly intrusive, Persephone found a secluded place away from the others and sank gratefully onto an elaborate rod iron bench in a alcove surrounded by thick, fragrant juniper bushes. Breathing deeply to relax her anxiety and recover from the physical effort walking had taken, she leaned back and closed her eyes. She was unaware of how enchanting she appeared as the full moon softly illuminated her, the pale blue of her gown in perfect harmony with her delicate silver-blonde coloring, and the soft lighting causing the sequins of her bodice and the tiny, iridescent beading in the chiffon of her skirt to sparkle with every breath and slight movement.
And so it was that Gavin Wolfe found her in his own search for seclusion. He paused, reluctant to disturb her as he watched her, feeling drawn despite himself. Although regarded as outgoing and sociable, he was in truth a solitary man, careful to keep his distance and avoid any genuine relationships. But something about this woman called to him with ancient, undeniable power.
He watched as her eyes opened and she stared up at the moon languidly, her petite but lush body relaxed back against the rod iron bench. Though he remained perfectly still, his gaze riveted on her, she was suddenly startled, sitting upright as she realized she wasn't alone and those beautiful azure eyes unerringly found him in the shadows of the old brick walls. They glistened with wariness from out of the mask as she returned his gaze.
“Forgive me,” he murmured softly, “I didn't mean to disturb you.”
“Who are you?”
He moved out of the shadows into the light of the moon he loved so much.
“My name is Gavin Wolfe.”
She paused before nodding slightly.
“My name is Persephone. I'm sorry. I was just going back inside. You can have his seat.”
“No,” he objected as she began to stand, “Please stay.”
After a moment, she sat back down though she didn't relax.
“Why should I?”
Why, indeed. He wasn't certain himself.
“I feel like talking,” he finally responded, “Just simple conversation away from the crowd.”
She watched him for a moment then finally relaxed as she accepted his explanation. He knew what she saw as she looked at him: a great hairy, dark brown beast with vaguely lupine features. He knew how she'd react if she knew it was no costume created by the make-up department of the movies he produced, and for that reason he kept his distance as he tried to ignore the ancient calling from within his soul. He didn't want to see the terror that knowledge would elicit.
“What shall we talk about?” she finally asked.
“The party?” he suggested, “Are you enjoying it?”
“Truthfully? No.”
“I don't enjoy them much myself. I much prefer quiet nights at home or maybe a simple gathering with a few friends.”
“So why are you here tonight?”
“I'm on the board of the charity.”
She nodded in understanding.
“Why are you not enjoying yourself?” he asked.
She shook her head, setting the tiny rhinestone pins in her blonde hair to sparkling.
“I'm not a party person at all. Or a true people person, if the truth be known.”
He cocked his head to one side.
“Why is that, if you don't mind my asking.”
She shrugged her delicate shoulders.
“I'm just not comfortable around people, I suppose.” She looked up at him surprise. “I can't believe I just said that.”
“Why not if it's the truth?”
He waited but she said nothing further. As he watched her he felt himself drawn ever more powerfully to her and began to worry if the beast was stirring uncontrollably. Then he realized that she was staring at him in much the same way.
“Who are you?” she whispered, “You said your name is Gavin Wolfe and I know you're a movie producer.” Her beautiful eyes narrowed slightly. “I know we've never met before now, but why do I feel...?”
“Why do you feel, what?”
“Like we know one another?”
“How so?”
“I don't know. Like you're not really who you say you are.”
His smile grew guarded.
“You're saying I'm an impostor?”
She shook her head.
“No. I'm saying there's something else that doesn't ring true .” She struggled to find the words. “Like what's standing before me isn't what is real.”
They regarded one another in silence, and Gavin suddenly realized he was feeling the same way toward her. That there was something not quite human about her, either.
“Perhaps it's our masks?” he suggested softly, and was rewarded with a shy smile.
“Maybe.” She drew her gaze from his and looked upward. “I love the night. It's so much more forgiving.”
“In what way?”
“It just is. Flaws aren't as visible. They're softened by starlight and moonlight.”
“The night can hide monsters as well.”
She thought of her father, who had kidnapped her and her brother in a drunken rage one bright Saturday morning, then wrecked his car, killing himself and her brother, and leaving her scarred both physically and emotionally.
“But monsters come out in the daytime, too.”
“True.”
He wondered what monster had put such dark shadows in her lovely eyes.
“I wish I could be one of those stars.”
Her comment took him by surprise.
“Why is that?”
“To be able to shine and bring pleasure to those I look upon.”
“But wouldn't you miss being able to interact with them?”
She shook her head.
“No, not really. I would just give pleasure and not...”
He waited, watching as she struggled with her thoughts.
“And not...?” he finally prompted and was rewarded with her sad sigh.
“And not have to pretend to be someone or something I'm not.”
“I don't understand.”
Oh, but he did!
“I know you don't,” she conceded softly, “Some of us have to go through life with our faces always masked. Hidden from anyone who wouldn't accept them.”
“And you always wear a mask?”
She nodded.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I'm different from everyone else.”
“Why?” he asked again, and felt the power of her inner pain when she looked up at him.
Slowly she removed the mask from her face and he saw the terrible scars that ravaged her skin, obviously left by some long ago fire. They stared at one another for a long moment and he felt wonder shift through him, for in the night's dim light he saw something he had never expected to see. Exquisitely feminine, vaguely lupine features.
“Your scars make you different?” he asked gently, already knowing at least part of the answer.
“My scars are a result of my difference.”
She was testing him, he realized, and smiled to himself.
“And what difference is that?”
“Can you not tell?”
“Tell what?”
“I am not like you or any other human. I am,” her voice sank to a whisper, “I am an abomination.”
Anger suddenly filled him.
“No, Persephone, you're not.”
“How can you say that after seeing what I am?”
“Who told you that?” he asked instead and watched her lower her face in shame.
“My father. He said my brother and I both were, and when I was eleven he was determined to take us away from our mother and her family. He said we didn't deserve to be with normal people.”
“What happened, Persephone?”
“They had a fight one morning. He was a mean drunk and he killed her then dragged us into the car.” She paused, remembering. “He ran off the road a few miles from our farm. The car rolled before hitting a tree. It burst into flames. He and my brother burned to death. I managed to crawl out.” She paused again and when next she spoke, it was to whisper, “I wish I'd died with them.”
Gavin immediately knelt before her and lifted her chin so that she met his gaze.
“I'm glad you didn't.”
“Why? You don't know what I am or what I'm capable of.”
“But I do, sweetheart.”
Taking one of her tightly clenched hands in his, he drew it to his own face and held it against his cheek. He felt her jolt and her eyes widened in shock. For just an instant she tried to draw away, before wonder filled her face. She stroked his coarse fur.
“You..you're like-like me! Like my mother and her family. A were--”
“We prefer the term loup-garou.”
“How can that be?”
He shrugged.
“How can anything simply 'be'? Our kind has existed alongside humans throughout time.” He shifted his hold on her hand, taking it in his and gently rubbing his thumb over its back. “We simply are as we always have been. No more or less unnatural than any other creature.”
“Yet you are accepted by-by humans.”
“Only because they never see me as you are seeing me now.”
She nodded.
“Yes. It's bad enough that they see my scars. If they were to see what I become...it's too terrifying to think about.”
“What do you become?”
“A wolf.”
“And how do you feel when you're a wolf?”
She smiled for the first time.
“Free. I can run without limping. No one can catch me and--and I feel beautiful.”
“That's because you are beautiful.”
She smiled shyly up at him, hardly daring to believe what was happening.
“Come with me,” he murmured, “Let us run as wolves. Together.”
She stared at him in wonder as he stood, drawing her up with him. Then she looked around them in fear.
“But where?”
He smiled and drew her with him deeper into the shadows, away from the lighted patio and into the dark woods at the back of the house. There in the pale light of the moon and stars, she watched him disrobe, baring his body to her even as it began to dissolve into a dark mist then reappear as a very large, dark wolf.
“Come, Persephone,” he coaxed, his voice growing deeper into a gentle growl, “Come with me.”
After a heady moment, she removed her own garments and he watched as she, too, dissolved into a beautiful silver mist then into a silver-gray she-wolf, the only part of her remaining unchanged were her lovely azure eyes. They stared at one another, marveling at what they had found, before he led her away deeper into the forest. And there, as she ran unhindered beside him, she finally found self-acceptance, and her perfect freedom.
c. 2024
*My sincere thank you to author Susan Krinard whose werewolf romances inspired this story.*
Tasked by his Goddess to find, relocate, and then quicken, the last three Heart Tree gem-seeds, Vanx the bard, and his motley crew of adventurers, set out to do just that.
Tasked by his Goddess to find, relocate, and then quicken, the last three Heart Tree gem-seeds, Vanx the bard, and his motley crew of adventurers, set out to do just that.
Persephone Gleason hated parties. In fact, she had hated any kind of social gathering since the car accident when she was just eleven-years-old that had left her scarred and partially paralyzed. But her best friend, Celia, had persuaded her “just this once” to attend the Halloween gala in the infamously haunted Tipton Mansion on the edge of town. The lights would be dimmed, she was promised, and a mask, as well as an invitation, were required for entry. In the end, Persephone had reluctantly relented because the event was also a fundraiser for a local charity that supported the children of domestic trauma. An issue she was all too familiar with.
