Page 14 of The Wolf Prince's Fated Heart
It's better to call someone else crazy than to admit that the world is becoming increasingly surreal, I conclude.
Besides, it's not like I can tell everyone that I've seen a wolf-shifter hybrid. I'll be given a one-way ticket to the loony bin.
"Tell me everything," I demand. "The whole truth, from A to Z."
If I knew my employer's secrets, at least I'd know how to act. It will be a weird way of having been told where my professional line is drawn, but so be it. What else can go wrong?
"Very well," Graham says, straightening his back. For a human with mental problems, he appears very serious. His face is pale like that of a supernatural being from the movies I used to watch on TV. "The first thing you should know is that the so-called supernatural creatures live among you."
Not something new, I think. Everyone walks around thinking they're more important than other people. Even I sometimes slip. What comes next, a part of me thinks. Yes, I'd like to say, 'What comes next,' but I stay silent.
"They've been living their own lives, creating their own societies, and hierarchies," Graham continues. "For example, the wolves have monarchies, the witches have covens, and the vampires have some sort of system based on their ages.”
“To be honest, no one knows much about the bloodsuckers. They tend to keep to themselves and are very secretive. We don't even bother mentioning them much. There are other species, but wolves and witches are the only two worth talking about, in my opinion."
Nodding like a kid, I pay close attention. No detail will be left out. He doesn't have a way out.
At least that part is interesting, my inner nerd relents.
"Okay. So what we saw there, that wolf-man is a king?" I remind him and this time it isn't funny. If we aren't playing a prank on each other, as Graham shows absolutely no signs of deceit, we might as well put two and two together and see how much is left after this crazy tale.
My world is spinning and not because I'm drunk. Everything is connected. I wish I would've read more fantasy books. Fuck, if I had known that was the reality, I would’ve devoured them one after another. But because I've been too into cozy mysteries, I am completely unprepared for what Graham tells me next.
"He's not a king," Graham says. "He's not even a part of any official courts."
"How do you know?" I ask, challenging his statement. No doubt we were looking at the wolf royalty of some unknown universe. He was too white to be normal. I think. But hey, what the fuck do I know?
"I'm going to give you a quick history lesson, okay?" Graham asks.
I nod. I have all the time in the world.
"We are going to go way, way back to the Upper Paleolithic period. That's about thirty thousand years ago," Graham starts, his brows furrowing in concentration as he gathers his thoughts.
"It was during the ice age when a small group of hunters went on search for food to feed their families. They came upon a group of nomads who looked like they were doing well. At first glance, the hunters could see nomads were well-fed, warm, and comfortable despite the many dangers coming from nature itself."
"What did the hunters do?" I ask, caught up in the tale as if I were back in school. I love learning new things.
Graham sighs and gives his head a sad shake. "Instead of approaching the nomads and asking them for help, they attacked them. They raped the women and murdered the men. They left destruction and death in their wake. The nomads weren't fighters. Not like the hunters. They didn't have the means to defend themselves. But in the end, it turned out that the nomads were something much more dangerous."
"What do you mean?" I ask, even though I'm quite sure I know the answer to my own question. I'm far from a genius, but a person doesn't survive the foster home with a brain full of mush.
"The nomads were one of the first covens," Graham explains. "Back then, they didn't use their magic to fight. They used it to keep their camp warm and their bellies full. They were a peaceful group."
I nod, leaning back against the sofa. The wood presses into the back of my legs. I wrap my arms around my middle as my entire body shivers, but not because I'm cold. Everything he tells me should be impossible.
The thing with impossible is that it rarely is.
And yet, it's hard to believe.
"After raping the women, the hunters didn't bother killing them off," Graham continues. "They left them alone in their grief and anger. It's when their hate and thirst for vengeance was born. The women began practicing blood magic. They located the hunters who had returned to their own camp.”
“With the use of their powers, the women murdered the hunters' wives and kids. They left the men alive but not before cursing them with spending an eternity as the beasts they were."
"Wait, but if they are to spend an eternity as the beasts, then how come they are able to shift?" I ask, completely confused. Is there a new definition of an eternity that I'm not aware of?
Graham smiles. "That's a great question. Well, you see, one of the hunters was a young boy, barely in his teenage years. It is said that he protected one of the young witches from being raped or hurt during the attack. The witch felt like she owed him, so when the coven cast the curse as one, she added an extra line to it which changed its entire meaning."
"She broke the curse," I whisper.