Wolfe's Lady by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy Page B

under the full moon.”
    He shut his eyes and the expression on his face was as bleak as an icy winter night.

    “That must have been rather frightening,” he said, after a long silence. “I am sorry you had to witness that. I did intend to tell you, Stella.”
    “I know.” He should have done it sooner, she thought, before she found out in such a shocking way. Despite her love, fear remained whenever she thought of him in full wolf form but she tried to hide it, knowing that it would hurt him to know she felt afraid.
    “So, what do you think now that you have learned my secret?
    Will you run away, my Stella-star?”
    He expected that she would; Stella saw that in his face, harsh and ravaged.
    She collected her breath to answer without wavering, “I won’t leave. I do love you, Darien, werewolf or not. It scares me, though, and it will take time for me to get adjusted to the idea. Until last night, I thought you were a man, human like me. Now I know that you aren’t but I have to figure out just how to wrap my brain around that.
    I think that I can and like I said, I love you but this is hard for me.”
    That conclusion, reached in the dark lonesome hours of the long night, came after an inner struggle. Reconciling what she knew of Darien, the man, and the beast she saw transform staggered her soul but she found that, within the werewolf, the man remained. On that small and shaky foundation, she pondered the deepest hidden rooms of her heart to find that despite his affliction, she still found him, as a man, to be handsome, charming, sexy, and so much more.
    Only after sifting through her shattered soul had she realized that she could and did love Darien and that she would not leave him. Her hope was that love would carry enough strength so that they could endure until she could accept his status quo, in all facets. Beyond the horror, past her fear, Stella realized for the very first time in her life how very powerful love in its most basic form could be.
    He made no sound as he listened to her response but she watched the tears collect in his topaz eyes before they spilled down his cheeks like a heavy rain. She ached for him, felt his pain in herself but she struggled with this reality. If he still loved her too, then she could deal with it but at the moment, but she wasn’t sure quite how she would.
    “Stella, you are all I could hope for and more. I never thought I would hear a woman say those sweet words to me ever again and mean them. You do, don’t you?”

    “Of course I do.”
    Darien patted the sofa beside him. “But you’re both worried and afraid. I see it in your eyes. Come sit with me. I have much that I must tell you.”
    “I am worried and I told you that I’m scared,” she said, struggling to conquer both emotions without success. “The more you tell me, the more maybe I can understand.”
    He nodded. “First, do you know how old I am?” Stella thought for a moment.
    “Are you twenty-eight?”
    He laughed sadly. “I am one hundred and ninety years of age if you count from my actual birthday, April 11, 1830 in a little English village, Eckington. I am, for all purposes, however, twenty-seven for all eternity. Not that it matters, really, but I’ve been in America since just after the Civil War.”
    “How did you become a werewolf anyway?” she questioned.
    If she could ever understand and try to accept this, she had to know.
    “Did it just happen or were you bitten by another werewolf or just a wolf or what?”
    “Ah, that,” Darien said, voice steady. “I was out walking on an April evening near the village. I was on my way to visit a young lady who had impressed me with her charms. Just as I passed Dickon’s Woods, a wolf sprang out of the shadows and attacked me.
    I fought it, thinking at that time it was indeed a mere wolf and it bit me on the shoulder. I slashed at its face with a small knife I wore on my belt. Then I rushed home and let my mother tend the wound.
    Everyone,