Sir.” The messenger backed away and I closed the door.
I looked at the letter again and laughed. I had to hold it in while I read the letter in front of the messenger, but I didn’t have to hold any such pretense now. I wondered, just how happy was Elias the next day when the servants informed him of his father’s death? Did he fake tears, did he collapse to the floor screaming “no” like in one of those Shakespeare plays? I supposed I’d ask him when I saw him again. I quickly gathered my things, more than ready to be out of that inn. The ride back to the mansion was a pleasant one, and Elias greeted me at the door when I arrived.
“My heart aches for your loss,” I said as I hugged him.
He nodded, his expression full of melancholy. “Gratitude, my dear friend. Come.” He led me to his room, and as soon as the door was closed, he was on me. His lips claimed mine and I kissed him back as I slowly walked him toward the bed.
“I see you need a great deal of comforting,” I said, then pushed him onto the bed.
His smile was wide and full of anticipation as he licked his lips. “I am a grieving son. My sorrows must be drowned out by your cock.”
I laughed as I removed my clothing. He undressed as well, and when I joined him on the bed, I knew I had him exactly where I wanted him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
A Lesson in Loyalty
I watched as Elias tended to the new brand he now had on his forearm. The brand of our pack, a wolf howling on a mountaintop. By the way he screamed as the iron brand singed his flesh, I knew it was going to be both a dreaded and desired moment when my time finally came. Elias had already taken the oath as well and was just waiting, almost impatiently, for Connor to give him the bite. We were sitting in the parlor, the fire roaring, giving off great, comforting heat. Connor was watching Elias as well, and I wondered what he was thinking.
“Do you know the story of the first wolf?” Connor asked both me and Elias as we sat across from him in his living room.
“No, Sir,” I said, and Elias only shook his head.
Three years had passed since the day I’d met Elias. I was eighteen and Elias was twenty, the age they wanted him to be. I had only started telling Elias about werewolves a little over a year ago, teasing him with the possibility of such creatures being real. And then one day, when I knew he was open, I revealed that they were real. That I belonged to such a pack, and when he was ready, I would introduce him. The thought of so much raw power, real power according to Elias, seduced him, so he’d become quite clingy.
Still, I’d done my part in bringing a very wealthy member into our pack.
Connor smirked, then crossed one leg over the other as he sat in his chair in a grand fashion. Elias stared at him in complete awe. For months, he’d been pestering me about meeting the Alpha. Been questioning when he would be turned. Finally, the time had come.
“It is said that a man made a deal with the spirit of the demon wolf,” Connor began his tale. “That, to save himself from dying, he promised the wolf he would share his body with the spirit. How together, he would heal and his vessel was strong enough to contain both of their souls. The demon wolf agreed and left the totem to enter the man, and that was how the first werewolf was made.”
“Is that really how it happened?” Elias asked.
“That is the story,” Connor said.
“Is he still alive? The first werewolf, Sir?” I asked. I had wondered about how our species had been born into existence. I had heard this story once before when I was a small child. My mother had told it to me, but her version was a little bit different. It was said that the spirit of the wolf entered the body of a stillborn and brought it back to life. If the first of our kind was alive, maybe one day, we’d really learn how we had become werewolves.
Connor smiled. “It is unknown if he is still alive. It is believed that he is, for all wolves come from him. That if he