Chapter Text
Heavy rushed breaths, and the stomping of panicked footsteps echo through thin brush and darkened woods. Liliana Temult skids to a halt, her breathing haggard as she scrambles into the hollow of an old oak tree. Beyond her, the world stills to silence. She sucks in slow measured breaths as she curls around the swell of her pregnant belly. I’ve got you Imogen, we’ll get out of this… She thinks, feeling the gentle kick of her unborn child.
A howl pierces the still air and Liliana feels her blood run cold. It’s close, too close, and hiding is no longer an option. With a deep breath, she lurches, uneven steps on the muddied remains of the season’s first rain, but she’s off. She turns and tries to circle back to her home in the hopes that maybe Relvin has returned. The wind whips past her face, thin branches and overgrown roots impede her trek, but she’s getting closer, closer, closer.
The wolf, hulking and massive is on her now, the steady thump thwump of its gait just behind her. The night thins like her breath, she sees the bobbing light of a lantern, and reaches for the figure of her husband before everything goes dark .
Imogen
Mornings after the full moon always leave Imogen feeling lethargic. It’s midday before she slinks from her bedroom to the cold coffee pot in the kitchen. She doesn’t bother with sugar, but adds a dash of milk before chugging the chilled beverage with a groan. Her father glances up from his paper, the gnarled scar that splits his ear as it travels down his cheek almost taunting her as he sighs and returns to his paper.
“Found your contribution ,” it’s spoken like a slap, a stinging, swelling comment that continues, “this morning.” He rolls his shoulders as he stands and gestures to the smoke shed just outside. “It’ll be ready in a few more hours if you need it.”
He knows she doesn’t, knows that she got her fill of deer and rabbit last night, but she nods swallowing thickly. “Thanks, Daddy.”
Heavy steps announce his departure and Imogen lets out a held breath as she sinks into his vacant chair. It’s always more awkward just after the full moon, but every month it gets worse for both of them. Maybe it was time she found her own place away from this town she grew up in, away from the worried glances and disappointed sighs.
The newspaper takes her attention then, the weather forecast, department store sales, and local news pull her blissfully from the dread that wells in her chest like a weight. For a few minutes, she can pretend she doesn’t feel like she’s sinking below the waves, like she might actually be a part of a community for once, but it's only a few moments.
She withdraws from her distraction to a gentle slam of the front door as a steady rain begins tapping a steady staccato along the roof. It’s gentle, and Imogen feels the urge to walk outside, lay in the grass and just feel the rain sink into her hair and skin, to be one with nature in a way that isn’t monstrous and wild. She submits to some of that urge, allowing herself to exit her home and stand just inside the porch, close enough to feel the gentle mist but far enough away that she’s not drenched. With a deep inhale she smells the rain, and lets it lift the weight on her heart, even for just a moment.
Her father is gone, his old creaking truck gone from its usual parking spot just outside the barn. His absence lessens the current of her heart, something that will guilt her when night once again approaches, but for now, she can breathe easily.
“Maybe somewhere where it rains more, that might be nice…” It’s a wonderful thought; living alone. A small cabin somewhere in the woods surrounded by nature and the gentle sound of rain, a good book nestled in her lap…
Across the peaceful field that separates their home from the stables darkness bursts from the edge of the forest a mass of black splintering with spindly limbs. Gunshots echo from within the woods, a human howl punctuating each violent burst as the livestock escape to the other side of the property.
The dark figure surges, diving between scattered shots in sheer panic. Imogen leaps down the steps her shotgun at the ready as she meets the figure halfway.
Not sure what to expect she readies a shot, aiming the barrel at what she assumes is the figure’s chest only to stop short. What she sees is a woman, eyes wide with fear, unbridled fear cloaked in black, blood dripping from quivering lips.
“Please-”
There is so much in that single word; hope, fear, and longing . Longing so bright Imogen can see through all else and steels herself. “Inside, quick.”
The figure sobs, open and honest as they nod, skittering up the steps and inside the home.
From the wooded edge another figure slinks from the darkness, followed by two more. She recognizes the faces of three brothers from town, their broad shoulders and messy brown hair their only defining features. The eldest spits, his firearm dropping to his side as he chuffs.
“Temult.” There is no kindness in his tone. He is as unhappy to see her as she is him.
“Greggor.” She replies, her shotgun a welcomed weight in her hands. “I assume you can explain why you scared off our livestock in the middle of the day?” Bile coats each word, venomous and caustic.
“Chasin’ a monster.” The younger man slurs, alcohol evident in his tone. “You wouldn’t hap’n to ‘ave seen’m?”
“All I’ve seen today has been the rain, and your charmin’ face.” She adds the saccharine sweetness to her words as she gestures to the man, her grip on her gun tightening.
The brothers scoff together, but with no other leads shrug their shoulders and return to the dark of the woods, no more words left to waste on the outcast at the edge of town.
Imogen watches them leave. Follows their shadows till she can no longer discern them from the darkened trees. When she’s certain they’re gone she turns back to her home and trudges inside.
Nearly soaked to the bone, Imogen wrings her hair of the excess moisture and meets the eyes of the willowy woman she’s just saved, tucked deep in the corner behind her grandmother’s old rocking chair.
Laudna
Anxiety rattles like a dying furnace just below Laudna’s ribs. Frantically she scurries under and behind an old rocking chair nestled in a corner, her breathing still paper thin. Without the chase to focus on she can only hear the thrum of her undead heart and the bite of hunger that makes her limbs ache. She tries not to stretch her hearing, tries not to latch onto the distant sound of pulsing blood. I can’t I wont, I can’t, I won’t.
The door clicks close, not quite a slam but loud enough to pull the lythe woman from her mantra. Laudna watches the woman wring her hair free of the accumulated rain, the gentle plip plip plip of the droplets that meet the hardwood floors. The woman turns, her shoulders relaxing a bit when she spies Laudna’s huddled form.
“You don’t have to worry about them any longer.” Her voice is soft, tired almost, as she approaches Laudna’s corner. “They’re big ‘n stupid, but not dumb enough to make much of a fuss ‘round here.”
Laudna grits her teeth, her fear of the hunters giving way to waves of anxiety wrapped around her growing hunger. She nods, fisting her thin fingers in the cloak she swims in. “You’re very kind.”
“I’m Imogen,” The woman crouches low, her arms crossing over her knees as those kind eyes assess her for any damage. She reaches out her hand aiming for a pale cheek, slow and cautious, but Laudna still flinches, making Imogen pull back. “I want to make sure you’re not hurt; I saw blood before.”
Dark eyes widen as Laudna instinctively bites her lip, one of her fangs piercing the skin and filling her mouth with stolen blood. “No permanent damage, an old affliction.” The ache tightens in her chest, a restraint that drags her down, down, down . “I’m Laudna; thank you, but I really must be going-”
The statement seems to confuse the other woman, her brows furrowing as she tilts her head inquisitively. The movement shows off the rumpled collar of her white t-shirt, and the tan expanse of her freckled throat.
Laudna lurches, her frame rattled with hunger pains as she doubles over. I can’t I won't, I can’t, I won’t, I can’t, I won’t, I can’t, I won’t, I can’t-
“Stay with me-” She hears through ragged breathing, a warm hand pressed to her cheek. She can feel the blood beneath tanned skin, hears the way it pump pump pumps through Imogen’s healthy heart.
It would be so easy .
“I won’t!”
“Won’t what? What’s going on, Laudna?” Imogen’s anxiety is potent, tangling in the air with the smell of sweat gathering at the back of her neck.
No one would miss her…
Bone creeks with the force of Laudna clenching her teeth, her fingers dig into the wooden floorboards with a loud crunch . “You’re not safe-” It’s nearly a sob. She wants to run, to disappear, to sink into the earth and soil, far away from the first drop of kindness she’s felt in years ; just to save this woman from her own wretched hands.
Imogen scoffs, her hands falling to Laudna’s as she extracts them from the splintered wood. “I can handle myself.” Her tone is kind; like salt in the wound holding Laudna’s woeful hunger.
The smile she gives is like a pocket of air to the drowning woman, and Laudna takes a deep breath to steady herself. “You’re really too kind…” She almost wants to cry.
Slowly, Imogen leads Launda up and out of her corner, her kind smile never wavering. She settles the taller woman on the plush sofa across from a cozy fireplace and begins to gently examine her. Not used to this sort of attention, Laudna looks away, her fingers fidgeting nervously in her lap.
Imogen does look very capable, with broad shoulders and calloused hands. She gently inspects Laudna’s hands and arms, her ribs and face.
“Looks like there’s no serious damage,” Imogen hums, her tone light in a way that pulls Laudna’s focus toward her.
This close, Laudna could count the freckles painted across her nose; connect the dots to a constellation more beautiful than the stars. “I- I should really be going-”
As if on cue, lightning lights up the sky, and thunder rumbles it’s reply. The light chorus of rain now a symphony of its own.
“If you think I’m letting you walk out that door with the weather like this-”
Another strike of thunder and lightning, loud enough to make both women flinch, and the door slams open. An older man lumbers in, his coat hiked up over his head as he slams the door shut again. “Like a cow pissin’ on a flat rock,” he turns towards his daughter and pauses at the sight of the other woman. “Imogen?”
It’s easy to see the relation between the two; the same broad shoulders and charming dimples.
Imogen stands, her hands leaving Laudna’s and falling to her sides. “Daddy, this is Laudna, she needs a place to stay for the night so-”
He sighs, his hand wiping the rain from his brow as he hangs up his coat. “Imogen-” There’s something there, something just beyond his words. Something like worry.
“Just for the night-” She takes half a step forward, her hands rising to assist in whatever explanation settles on the tip of her tongue.
“I don’t think it’s safe-”
“For her to be out in the rain,” Imogen interrupts. “My thoughts exactly.”
Dark eyes shift from Imogen to her father and back, settling nervously on Imogen’s profile as she frowns. She crosses her arms and steels her gaze, but softens as her father looks at her.
He looks toward Laudna and then back to Imogen. There’s something in the look he gives her, something like a plea. For what, she can’t be sure, but whatever he’s afraid of, it’s not her .
He should be…
“Do what you think is best.”
