Chapter 4

Katia is one of my favorite characters to write for. Her relationship with Randolf is a complex one, but they manage well together and their interactions are always interesting.

Chapter 4

 

            There have been countless instances of Lycans and humans coming together as mates and there are just as many failures of these instances as there are successes. It cannot be surprising when one considers the nature of our connection to the human race as a species. We are their guardians and our need to be near to humans is engraved into our very souls. Of course, there are warped versions of this sentiment that can have unpleasant results.

            I have been a witness to Lycan men who, in a sort of twisted rebellion to the matriarchal aspects of our society, reveled in the power they could demonstrate over human females. They would keep for themselves four and six human girls to which they would play the role of iron-handed master, basking in the feeling of power that is denied to them from women of their own race. It is a perverted display of which I’ll take no part.

            Taking a human as a mate presents three prevalent problems that can be detrimental to the relationship, regardless of gender. Though it is less common, female Lycans who decide to take a human man as a mate can also find themselves faced with these problems as well.

            Firstly, the natural biological construct of our race is very different from that of a human, even when wearing our human-looking disguises. While it may not look to be very different, disregarding this truth can be gruesome. Physically, we do not need to eat, drink, or sleep as often as humans do and are unaffected by most of the temperature changes of the natural environment. We also enjoy an aspect of physical strength that is dangerous when mixed with a swell of emotion. This makes the actual mating process difficult and relatively unsatisfying for the Lycan involved because we must be in constant check of how much pressure we apply there, how strong of a grip we hold there, during intercourse. Being very ethereal and monogamous creatures, we revel in the intimacy of intercourse with our selected mate. So being denied that satisfaction is difficult for most Lycans to stomach.

            I have heard the horrid recounts of males who lost control, who let loose their passion and strength during sex with a human woman, and the woman died as a result. It isn’t unfathomable to conceive a shattered pelvis, massive internal damage, suffocation, and other various injuries that are possible during intercourse.

            This, in turn, relates to the second cause for issues in a mixed-race relationship between humans and Lycans. Humans are not monogamous creatures, as we are, and usually do not understand the finality of our feelings when selecting a mate. For Lycan males, when a mate is selected without the effect of perverse or anarchic desires, the decision is one that ties him body and soul to that mate. But humans rarely understand the depth and gravity of this decision and the agony that can ensue from an unfaithful mate. It is something that we simply cannot stomach. While it does happen amongst various Lycans, such as in the instance of my own birth, its occurrence is considered to be unbearably shameful and the unfaithful mate is likely to find himself or herself shunned by the rest of their pack.

            Selecting a human mate comes at a great cost to a Lycan, both physically and emotionally. It is a sacrifice from which they are likely never to receive much reward apart from their partner’s love and affections. For some, that is enough. But others begin to regret their decision, realizing that they have surrendered a great deal. Humans and Lycans cannot bear young naturally, so there are no offspring. The sexual unions between the pair are fairly unrewarding to the Lycan. If the human should prove to be unfaithful, the amount of emotional damage to the monogamous-minded Lycan would be devastating.

            But the issue of lifespan is the most prevalent and destructive problem that faces a Lycan-human couple. A Lycan may enjoy several hundred years of life, if unhindered by sickness or wounds, and humans live a decidedly shorter amount of time. This causes an immediate rift when a human is presented with their swift aging and physical deterioration and their Lycan mate still looks very much like a young adult. There really is no anecdote to aid this issue; it is simply the very real manifestation of our difference races.

We were made to protect and preserve humans, not to mate with them. To force this union is destructive and troublesome and not for the faint of heart. It presents the Lycan with a landscape for anguish, grief, sacrifice, and unrewarded loyalty. But for all these problems that could cause the relationship to fail or to be emotionally detrimental to both parties, there is a very slim chance at happiness that entices beyond rational reason’s ability to refrain. But this happiness, if achieved, is the crowning jewel of a love that defies science and rationality. A love that fulfills a Lycan’s inborn need to protect, to cherish, and to be known by a human.

 

~>*<~

 

            The halls of Dervyshire Park were dim, shadows draping thickly from the corners of parlors, empty ballrooms, and silent libraries. Randolf sat rigidly in a tall-backed chair, silver eyes fixed upon the enormous marble fireplace that spanned from floor to ceiling with engravings of two Grecian goddesses holding up pots overflowing with flowers on either side of the broad mantle. It was a majestic, if not overpowering piece in the room, carved from milky white stone and controlling the focus of the small study that Randolf had adopted as his own.

            He sat with his legs crossed, arms slackened on the rests, and expression lost to the small flames that licked the fragile slivers of charred wood left to smolder in the iron grate in the bottom of the fireplace. It was as far as he had made it upon returning from the Montgomery household, his brow hardly lifting from a deeply upset furrow the whole while. Now he sat, transfixed with his own thoughts and sitting as still as if he’d become a permanent piece of furniture in the room.

            The door opened silently and the press of bare feet to the polished marble floors made one if his dark brows twitch slightly. “Did you find the horse, Katia?” He asked without turning to look and see who was standing the doorway; he did not need to see to know whom it was. He knew her scent intimately, having lived with her now for near a decade.

            The sprightly little girl strolled into his study, passing his chair and huffing a noisy sigh as she flopping down onto a long, richly adorned sofa. Her long red hair hung in loose, spiraling waves down her back and over her shoulders. It framed her small, hear-shaped face sweetly and provided pleasant contrast to her flawlessly pale skin. Katia wore not a single stitch on her lean, petite body without any visible sign of shame and Randolf took no notice of it either.

            “Yep. Herded him back towards his house. If he’s got any good sense he’ll make it there before morning.” Her voice filled the gloomy room like the joyful tinkle of bells, “Still licking your wounds? Must be hard to lose the same girl twice.”

            Randolf snorted, flicking her a chastising glare and leaning into one side of the chair and pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, “You didn’t see her. You’d believe me if you had. I know it sounds like I’m crazy.”

            “I’ve thought that all along, Uncle Randy.” Katia smirked playfully and wiggled her toes, crossing her thin arms over her bare midriff, “But if you say it’s her, then I guess I’ll take your word for it…at least for now.”

            “It is. It has to be. You don’t understand; her eyes, her smile, her voice, even her smell. It is all exactly the same as before.” He insisted suddenly, shifting to sit on the edge of his chair and fidget tensely with his hands.

            Katia frowned suspiciously, “I thought you said she didn’t have a smell before?”

            “I never said that,” Randolf replied, “Hers was a very, very faint smell like lavender or jasmine. You wouldn’t notice it at all until you stood very near to her.”

            Her face was still frowning, though Katia did arch one of her slender dark red brows, “Sounds like she’d be an awful pain to track. No wonder she snuck up on you. The way the wind moves here, you’d never find her out in the wilds. But really, Uncle, it’s been almost two hundred years. How can it be her? Humans don’t live that long…and if she were anything else you’d know it.”

            With a despairing sigh, he hung his head and nodded slightly, “I don’t know, Katia. But I’m sure. I’m certain that it’s her. And once again, I’m founding unsatisfactory in her eyes.”

            “Oh that is ridiculous, you’re being impossibly stupid, Uncle Randy. Such drama, I can’t believe I’m hearing this from you.” She retorted, rolling her eyes and waving her hands in an exasperated expression, “It’s pathetic and embarrassing.”

            He glanced up through disheveled ebony bangs, vexed and speechless as he watched his young niece glare at him relentlessly. “What do you expect me to do?” He protested in weak defense.

            “No,” She countered, pointing a finger at him accusingly, “What do you expect her to do? Maybe she’s a reincarnation, maybe the gods are giving you a second chance, whatever the case…it doesn’t matter. You can’t expect her to fall helplessly in love with you, at least not if she’s got half a brain in her silly head. It’s obvious that she doesn’t know you; she doesn’t remember anything from before. So it’s really unfair to act this way, like she’s knowingly shooting you down again.”

            Randolf, for what good opinions and thoughts he had for his young niece, couldn’t deny the logic behind her argument. He sat back in his chair a little, elbows resting on his knees as he listened. “What do you suggest?” He asked suddenly.

            Katia pursed her lips, bounding to her feet suddenly and pacing busily to and fro in front of him. Any other man might have been bashfully embarrassed to see her blatant nudity.  But being as they were, Lycans, it wasn’t something he’d never seen before. Modesty was of little concern when Lycans were amongst each other; their human skin was not their natural state anyway and shifting back and forth consistently ruined clothing.

            “You have to woo her again.” She pronounced suddenly, stopping before the fireplace and planting her hands decidedly on her hips. “Romance her. You can’t just talk to her for a few minutes and believe that she’ll swoon into your arms instantly. You have to flirt with her, get to know her more. I wouldn’t have given you my number either. Way to be awkward, Uncle Randy.”

            Randolf’s face colored a bit and he leaned back fully into his chair, pondering it all and beginning to fully realize that she could actually be right. He’d been a fool to be so forward. Especially know what he did about her. Julia had always been careful, timid, modest, and subtly stubborn.

            “A word of warning.” Katia asserted suddenly, arching one of her brows once more and canting her head to the side a bit. She cast him a threatening sort of stare, demanding that he take her words seriously, “Use what you knew about her, if you think it might help, but don’t you dare ever call her Julia. Her name is Charlotte Montgomery, not Julia Knightley. If you call her that then you’ll ruin your chances, believe me. She isn’t Julia, despite how she looks on the outside.”

            Randolf was again found speechless, staring at his silly-tempered niece whom he had never heard speak with such authoritative wisdom. But he could not refute the truth in her words and nodded gravely. “I will…woo her then.” He couldn’t help but laugh at himself hoarsely and shook his head, “I had no idea you took this sort of thing so seriously, Katia.”

            His fair-skinned niece smiled with satisfaction prevalent on her delicate, pretty features. She batted long dark lashes proudly and trotted towards the door, pausing in the doorway to stop and stick her tongue out at him teasingly before retiring to her own room.

Author's Note

Content not edited.