With Clipped Wings of Butterflies

Submitted into Contest #33 in response to: Write a story about a character who can't make up their mind about something.... view prompt

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General

“Delia, I’ll meet you there in the morning. Okay? You don’t have to do this alone. We can do this together,” my sister’s syrupy sweet tone comforts and aches my heart all at once. I know she only wants to help, but I’m not yet sure I want to do this.

Still, everything in me tells me it’s the right thing to do.

“Thanks Caressa, I appreciate it.” I know she can hear the mild timidity breaking through my otherwise stubborn demeanor, but my big sister remains quiet on the other end of the phone and I know she’s waiting for me to affirm my decision, but I still don’t know what to say.

I want to call our mother. She would know just what to do. She would know the route I should take. However, this is different. Complicated.

Mother always said this life was ours to choose and our own to live. Never has our mother forced us one way or the other into this world.

Sure, I was disappointed to learn only my sister was a full blood Altrinion, blessed with the lux aeterna, or eternal light of the immortals. Me, however, not a full blood Altrinion, but a hybrid. Half-Altrinion. Half Dunes Wolf. Yes, a Dunes Wolf. At least if I were half-Altrinion and human, my Altrinion nature would overtake my human state. I’d be a Breaker—as they call it. No, I’m half of a treacherous, traitorous, pack of wolves! Alas, I should be thankful I’m from the Peyroux bloodline and not marked with the wretched Dunes curse thanks to our ancestors’ great deed with Saint Roch.

But still, I’m a wolf.

Not just any wolf. A marked wolf.

Sure, Saint Roch blessed our ancestors’ bloodline, so we are no longer bound to the curse of the full moon due to the help the Peyroux’s provided during the plagues. Yet, even having the curse lifted as a result wasn’t enough to douse the kindling rage of our enemies. And I’ve met one such enemy.

A great and terrible enemy indeed.

Who knew when I ran off to France with the first man who made me feel like a woman, I would meet one who has long despised my family? I suppose the truth is I should have never run in the first place. But I did. I did because I was jealous of Caressa.

Yes, beautifully perfect, full-blood Altrinion Caressa.

For even though she wasn’t my father’s daughter by blood, he lavished all his affection toward her—at least in my eyes. Mother, well, Mother did her best to show a shared love and interest for us both, but it was evident, at least to me that Caressa was favored. Not only was she the preferred between the two of us, but she was the eldest and by rights all the manner of privilege fell to her.

Thankfully, Caressa never treated me as second class. As a matter of fact, she doted on me. Gave me whatever I wanted or needed. Her perfectly poised affection toward me made it even hard for me not to love her. It is because of her love for me that I did my best to hide my growing antipathy.

I hid it as long as I could—that is, until my eighteenth birthday.

There was one thing I looked forward to. One thing I longed for. My alpha status.

It was the only thing I didn’t have to strive for. Something that was mine alone and in need of no competition. Or so I thought.

I wondered why Mother had never prepped me for my valuation. After Papa Roux died, I thought for sure I’d be in succession. But typical for all things Dunes, we were packless. Leaderless. Divided. There wasn’t a cleared Dunes Den Leader or Lead Alpha nor had there been one for some time.

No one within five hundred miles of New Orleans had stepped to the plate in more than one hundred years to claim ranks as Den Leader or Lead. Not even Papa Roux. The last I heard; the only eligible Den Leader was a fourteen-year-old boy named Abraham Helsing that I used to babysit. His father died young—mysteriously too young some say, and Abraham isn’t old enough for valuation. He’s still a pup.

My father was ineligible to declare himself because the Peyroux’s are now considered unmarked. I supposed no longer being cursed puts us into some other category.

So there I was, eighteen and ready for the only thing that could’ve been mine; should’ve been mine—the acknowledgement of my alpha status and I was left with absolutely nothing.

Well, not exactly nothing. Mother offered her apologies to me. An apology was not what I wanted.

For me it wasn’t just something to best my sister. It was the last part of me that connected me to the person who I loved most. My father. My Papa Roux. Even though Caressa, another man’s child, somehow became his favorite, he still remained mine. I suppose it was the one thing I alone shared with him. As much as he loved Mother, not even she could appreciate how it feels to shift beneath the moon’s apex or comprehend the tormenting yet exhilarating freedom that comes with broken bones mending to marrow once a month. That alone belonged to us.

And while he was no longer with us, it was the one thing I relished because it made me feel close to him.

So I ran. I ran far and fast into the arms of a man who promised he could help me find what I was looking for. Yes, my actions were deliberate. A part of me wanted to hurt Mother, though she did not warrant my wrath. Perhaps I resented both not being an Altrinion nor an Alpha. Whatever my ire, all I knew is I had to get away.

However, this man was unlike any other. Beautifully dangerous. Seductive. Yet, despite his haunting presence his pull was magnetic, and I was a mere paperclip. Even his words enchanted me. With eyes singed in a fiery hue, bronzed pecan skin, and lips the color of raspberries, everything about this man lured me to a perilous passion I knew would be my reckoning.

But I did not care.

I knew the truth. He was a monster. An Altrinion-Vampire. A progenitor of all Scourge; or what we call mortal-made vampires. Growing up, nightmarish stories followed by his name were known throughout the community of supernaturals. But still, I did not care. He wanted me.

Me. Not Caressa. He was now the one thing that was all mine. The one thing—and person I needn’t share. Or so I thought.

Until I knew better, I let him possess me. Lavish me. Ravish me. Willingly I gave my innocence to him. And he took it. For that I have no regret.

Well, at first, I did. I feared he’d toss me aside once he had his full like the monster I thought him to be. Strangely, I never saw this monstrous beast that I was taught to fear. From him, only kindness was shared between us. Not once did he hurt or threaten me. In fact, he remained a doting gentleman.

While I’d often protest, he had even fought for my honor. If anyone dared treat me with an ounce of discourtesy his retribution would inevitably follow. He was chivalrous. Gallant. That was certainly new territory for me.

For two years we traveled around the world seeking someone who could perform my alpha valuation. I only had until my twenty-first birthday to make my valuation solid. Unfortunately, most were too fearful of his damning reputation that none dared take his request. Still, he tried. He was even working a deal with his brother who he hadn’t seen in over a hundred years to meet an Altrinion Elder who could oversee my rights. He told me it was always his plan to restore the rights to the Dunes wolves among the supernatural order. Meeting me was fate he said.

And I believed him.

Until I didn’t.

My walls of belief all came crashing down last night. Seeing him gorging himself in the blood of young ones sickened my soul as if the cave of my bower closed within me. Yes, I’d seen him drink from mortals before. More than once had I seen him take life from innocents. Truly, that should have been enough for me. Instead, I swallowed down everything I’d been taught of the sanctity of life and gave him a modicum of freedom. And for a moment, it seemed as though he tried to do better. Be better.

As a gesture to me, he often frequented the local Civility Center where he could obtain rations of his fill or even drink from willing donors. I even believed his promise that when we were married, he’d never drink in the house.

Oh how I believed his lies! Each and every lie. I drank it down like mother’s milk.

Until I saw him, indulging in the most depraved way possible! Dozens of lifeless young bodies, none older than twelve, littered like trash and bathed in their own blood across the concrete floor of our flat. There he and his young ward, Cade, and two others indulge with him. But they were not alone.

She was there.

The red head.

The one he said I needn’t fear. The one he said for whom he had no affection.

There she was, barely clothed, straddled across his lap as they both tarnish the young soul in their feverish grip.

And for the first time, I see him for who he truly is. I see the monster.

 Velvety thick red skin with the mouth of a dragon, his fangs dig far and wide into the child’s flesh and he is now before me every bit of the monster I thought him to be.

She is no better.

Although she is unlike any Scourge I’ve ever seen, just the sight of her viper-like mouth feasting with such savagery sends a sickening grief to my soul.

It took everything within me not to scream but I had to run. Again.

I ran fast. But not fast enough.

She caught me.

He had always done a good job of keeping her at a distance. Until now. I’m sure she wondered what made a monster like him give any pause to someone like me. A leaderless wolf. Intrigue marred her otherwise sinfully flawless face as she gazed deep into the burrow of my eyes. It was almost like she was looking for something, but her expression proved she did not find what she sought to see. And for that I am grateful.

Thankfully, she was too overcome with her bloodlust to pursue me, so I ran.

Charging out of the building, I was surprisingly comforted to run straight into the arms of Ms. Greenlee. Our family’s praesidium—or Bulwark as we call them in the Supernatural world.

“I’ve got you,” she said with fervor as she tugged me tight in her arms. Quickly throwing me in a black sedan, we were at her hotel in no time. She said nothing to me but muttered the ancient words quietly the entire time. Glowing iridescent lights covered the hotel and I knew instantly that she was marking our territory to blanket us from danger. No Altrinion-Vampire would ever be able to see beyond a Bulwark’s shield.

“I got here as soon as the Elders told me she was here. As if being with him wasn’t bad enough you had to get yourself mixed up with the likes of her? Don’t you know who she is? She is Chartreuse Grenoble, child! The sole hunter of the Peyroux-Dunes line! She will never forgive Elias’ bloodline for his part in her sister’s death. She has issued a swift end to any Peyroux! That includes you, missy!” Ms. Greenlee laid the truth before me in a tongue lashing only spoken by care.

I know it’s more than her charge to protect our family—her sentiment is true. Chartreuse has been a known enemy to our family for as long as I could remember. Perhaps being with the boogeyman himself, Decaux Marchand, has numbed me to these facts—I don’t know.

I am thankful I never gave my true name. I told him my name was Anne Nicaud. Mixing my middle name with my sister’s given name in marriage, I had hoped to throw him off. It’s also good Altrinions can’t read wolf minds—so he’ll never know my true identity.

Most important, neither will Chartreuse.

But I know I can’t leave it to chance. I know he’ll come looking for me. I know one day he will find me.

That’s why I called Caressa.

Now, I must decide if I can do the one thing that will get him off my scent forever.

Caressa has always suggested we live normal lives. Give our supernaturality to the waters of hominum vita—life of man. Bathing in the sacred waters will forever erase our supernatural essence, allowing us to live out our lives like humans.

Perhaps I should have waited before calling her. At least until I knew more. Until the test results were sure.

For weeks I had been queasy and with the absence of my period and my frequent passionate bouts with Decaux, I decided to pick up a pregnancy test on my way back to the flat.

I decided to take it before I called Caressa, hoping—no praying a negative result would appear while we spoke, making my choice easier.

I now know my choice will not be easy. Of that I’m positive.

Although our Mother gave her supernaturality to the sacred waters while we were young, she always said she never wanted to make that choice for us. Or as she put it, “heaven forbid she clip our wings before we knew to fly.

That is what makes this choice so difficult.

Now, it’s not just me. I have cargo. Someone else’s choice. If I submerge in the sacred waters, I do not just make a choice for me, but also for him or her.

Would he or she want to remain—whatever he or she will be? Altrinion? Wolf? Vampire? I don’t know.

I don’t even know how I could give birth or raise a child who is the seed of such a monster! How could I love him or her?

Even more, how could I not?

No matter my choice, one thing is clear—this child is mine. My own. Mine alone to love—and to love me!

I will do for this child what I wished was done for me—or what was done by a monster. Lavishly love them with every ounce of adoration I have within me! For me, this child will always be favored. The only apple of my eye. Now and forever.


“Delia?” Caressa questions once more, bringing me back to the moment.

“Yes, I will meet you there.” This time my tone is resolute. I even sense my ardent stubbornness ringing true.

I may not be an alpha, but in this moment, I know what I am—a mother. And I will do what a mother does best: protect her child. 

March 20, 2020 20:01

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5 comments

Vrishni Maharaj
13:50 May 27, 2020

I love this! Amazing job :)

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Cory Pines
12:06 Mar 26, 2020

This is one of the best Fantasy Short Stories I have ever read, great work!

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L. C. Son
16:56 Mar 26, 2020

How very kind of you! Thanks!

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LaNaiah Frieson
22:42 Mar 25, 2020

Amazing. This writing is absolutely beautiful.

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L. C. Son
02:25 Mar 26, 2020

Thank you! I appreciate your feedback :)

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