Read Online The One We Answer To: A Shifter MC Novel (Pureblood Predator MC Book 3) by May Ellis Daniels - Free Book Online
Authors: May Ellis Daniels
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lifts.
The nagging hunger in my belly relents.
I feel…almost like myself again.
I feel him , my animal, prowling and pacing, and his return makes me growl with joy.
I never thought I’d miss him so much.
I break from Anne’a’s kiss and stammer, “How did you—”
She silences me with a finger to her lips, then points to the amulet. “The azure stone keeps the wolf close,” she whispers. “A talisman from the time of the One War. Created to ward off the Fallen’s spirit-withering power.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Shh,” Anne’a says. “You didn’t have to invite me in. In truth, I didn’t think you would. I thought he was wrong. I didn’t think you capable of such selflessness. Such kindness.”
“He?”
Anne’a settles her cheek against my shoulder. “I was a gifted healer. The best the elders had ever seen. But proud. Ambitious. He came to me as coyote. Told me my daughter was an apenak’a . A malicious spirit escaped from the dead land. Told me if I returned her to that dead land there would be…a great reward bestowed on me in this life.”
“You were deceived.”
“No,” Anne’a says sadly. “I was willing. In my heart I knew the trickster coyote was lying. Testing my true spirit. He gave me reason to pursue my most hidden and wicked ambitions, and I leapt at it. So one night…it was a cloudy, starless night, I snuck into this abandoned cabin and kneeled over my sleeping daughter. Pressed a leather bedroll to her face. I didn’t even have the courage to see her spirit depart.”
Anne’a’s tears track down my chest. “I let my daughter lie alone all night, and in the morning I picked her up, carried her outside and buried her in the ravine. As I was marching to the rim the coyote arrived. He stood on the rim and looked down at me and my murdered daughter, and I felt my human form waver and break. Felt the animal loose. I’d never imagined such…power. I leapt up the rim, digging my sharp claws into the dirt, seeking freedom, rejoicing in my new form.”
Anne’a raises her head and looks me straight in the eye.
“The coyote observed my terrible joy and said the worst punishment a wild animal can suffer is confinement. He said I was to be imprisoned in this ravine for eternity. Said that every night I would become the bobcat and dig up my daughter’s corpse. Said her body would never age, but that mine would grow twisted and withered and rotten and still I would remain here, at my murdered daughter’s side, forced to relive my evil night after night.”
I glimpse motion in the middle of the cabin, and when I glance over Anne’a’s head I see the dead child rising to her feet. Her frilled leather dress is soiled and dusty. The girl looks down at the dirt stains as if trying to remember how they got there.
“The coyote said there was one who may free us,” Anne’a continues. “A man who has forgotten there is real choice in this world. A man who has come to believe—”
“That nothing we do matters,” I finish for her.
“Yes.”
“You don’t remember?” the young girl says. “They didn’t name you Aaron at the beginning of time.”
“Remember? No. I’ve been trying my entire life to remember.”
“Your true name,” Anne’a says, breaking from my arms and stepping toward her daughter. “Your wild name. Who you are. Why it was your mark that awakened the All Encompassing.”
“No. I remember nothing.”
“Then listen,” the young girl says, “and hear your wildborn name.”
I strain to listen. At first there’s only the sound of my own breathing. The cabin’s rotting wood creaking as the sun’s first rays warm it. Then, off in the far distance, very faint, the sound of coyote’s howling.
Anne’a smiles. “Yes. Wait.”
Other calls join the coyote’s song. The long, plaintive wail of wolves. The roar of a lion commanding his piece of the African veldt. The chuff of a mother grizzly hastening her cubs into their
The nagging hunger in my belly relents.
I feel…almost like myself again.
I feel him , my animal, prowling and pacing, and his return makes me growl with joy.
I never thought I’d miss him so much.
I break from Anne’a’s kiss and stammer, “How did you—”
She silences me with a finger to her lips, then points to the amulet. “The azure stone keeps the wolf close,” she whispers. “A talisman from the time of the One War. Created to ward off the Fallen’s spirit-withering power.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Shh,” Anne’a says. “You didn’t have to invite me in. In truth, I didn’t think you would. I thought he was wrong. I didn’t think you capable of such selflessness. Such kindness.”
“He?”
Anne’a settles her cheek against my shoulder. “I was a gifted healer. The best the elders had ever seen. But proud. Ambitious. He came to me as coyote. Told me my daughter was an apenak’a . A malicious spirit escaped from the dead land. Told me if I returned her to that dead land there would be…a great reward bestowed on me in this life.”
“You were deceived.”
“No,” Anne’a says sadly. “I was willing. In my heart I knew the trickster coyote was lying. Testing my true spirit. He gave me reason to pursue my most hidden and wicked ambitions, and I leapt at it. So one night…it was a cloudy, starless night, I snuck into this abandoned cabin and kneeled over my sleeping daughter. Pressed a leather bedroll to her face. I didn’t even have the courage to see her spirit depart.”
Anne’a’s tears track down my chest. “I let my daughter lie alone all night, and in the morning I picked her up, carried her outside and buried her in the ravine. As I was marching to the rim the coyote arrived. He stood on the rim and looked down at me and my murdered daughter, and I felt my human form waver and break. Felt the animal loose. I’d never imagined such…power. I leapt up the rim, digging my sharp claws into the dirt, seeking freedom, rejoicing in my new form.”
Anne’a raises her head and looks me straight in the eye.
“The coyote observed my terrible joy and said the worst punishment a wild animal can suffer is confinement. He said I was to be imprisoned in this ravine for eternity. Said that every night I would become the bobcat and dig up my daughter’s corpse. Said her body would never age, but that mine would grow twisted and withered and rotten and still I would remain here, at my murdered daughter’s side, forced to relive my evil night after night.”
I glimpse motion in the middle of the cabin, and when I glance over Anne’a’s head I see the dead child rising to her feet. Her frilled leather dress is soiled and dusty. The girl looks down at the dirt stains as if trying to remember how they got there.
“The coyote said there was one who may free us,” Anne’a continues. “A man who has forgotten there is real choice in this world. A man who has come to believe—”
“That nothing we do matters,” I finish for her.
“Yes.”
“You don’t remember?” the young girl says. “They didn’t name you Aaron at the beginning of time.”
“Remember? No. I’ve been trying my entire life to remember.”
“Your true name,” Anne’a says, breaking from my arms and stepping toward her daughter. “Your wild name. Who you are. Why it was your mark that awakened the All Encompassing.”
“No. I remember nothing.”
“Then listen,” the young girl says, “and hear your wildborn name.”
I strain to listen. At first there’s only the sound of my own breathing. The cabin’s rotting wood creaking as the sun’s first rays warm it. Then, off in the far distance, very faint, the sound of coyote’s howling.
Anne’a smiles. “Yes. Wait.”
Other calls join the coyote’s song. The long, plaintive wail of wolves. The roar of a lion commanding his piece of the African veldt. The chuff of a mother grizzly hastening her cubs into their
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