Page 426

“They lived within a pack, understood their nature, and learned about themselves over the centuries of their existence. Until the Europeans came here. Strangers with new weapons who wanted to drive them from their homeland.”

Alarik sighed. His eyelids fluttered.

“The DeLoughreys, who had feared the children of the moon since the beginning of their coexistence, had the Transformed hunt down the Esadowas whenever they crossed their self-proclaimed territorial borders. At the same time, the wealthy Quatura families exploited them for their own benefit by forcing the women to work as tongueless slaves in their mansions.”

He looked at me. His smile had disappeared.

“You must know that the Quatura knew even less about the Senseque back then than they do today. They had found ways to suppress their transformation. But not without consequences.”

Shocked, I stared at the painting of Jeremiah Copeland and the tribal chief.

Did Grace know about this? Did Julie? But now it made more sense that the Quatura spoke so disparagingly of the Senseque. It was in their tradition. Whether consciously or not.

“The Esadowa tribe quickly identified the DeLoughreys as a threat and wiped out almost the entire clan, including two family members who happened to be very active and merciless at the time, leaving behind a trail of bloodshed. That was the beginning of our enmity.”

Alarik paused, his jawbone moving.

“Although there are many versions of the story, it is known that Jeremiah fell in love with Tayen, the daughter of the tribal chief, and promised her he would place the tribe under the protection of the Copelands.” He cleared his throat. “At least, that's what he wrote in his diary.”

I looked at Jeremiah. A man from the nineteenth century. He seemed to have been sincere, if the story was to be believed... or my gut feeling.

“The first Copeland children born in Blairville carried the blood of the Senseque and therefore the same gift.”

I looked at Alarik, conflicted.

“Gift? Isn't it more of a curse? I mean, your bodies, all the pain every full moon...”

At our last dinner, after everyone had left, Mia had told me how painful her first transformation had been and that she had broken her ankle during the reverse transformation. She had compared it to severe period cramps, only in every cell of her body.

Nash had said that the pain would never go away completely. That it would feel like breaking your own bones over and over again.

Why they did it almost every day anyway? Emely had explained that it was their nature, that it made them feel whole and connected to themselves and their surroundings, as well as to the pack.

Alarik chuckled softly again, and I found myself drawn to his cool green eyes with their dark blue rims.

I understood why Alice had been attracted to him. Beyond his charisma and mystery, he radiated a certain serenity. Added to that was his openness and the way he talked about the past. And all the other things...

I pressed my lips together and looked away, feeling the warmth creeping up my cheeks.

“It is painful to transform, but something deep within us makes it bearable over time, to the point where we long to become one with the nature around us. And even though it takes a lot of physical energy, it's liberating.” He stared at the painting in front of us. “The only curse is the relentless hostility between us and the others.” He snorted. “We would have been able to overcome this enmity long ago if...”

He stopped himself and looked at me again, seemed to be thinking about how to finish the sentence.

His gaze landed on my white blouse collar, which was still covered in blueberry stains, and I felt my blush returning.

There was a crack in the foyer, and I looked up. Alarik turned around, and we both discovered Nash in the hallway behind the archway to the living room, together with Emely. They were both laughing about something, but stopped abruptly.

They must have come back from campus together.

“I'm sorry, Bayla. I still have some essays to correct,” Alarik said suddenly, smiling kindly, and I thought I saw his gaze slip back to my blueberry stain before he grabbed his leather bag and disappeared through the salon toward the hallway.

I wanted to tell him he had forgotten his fountain pen, but he was already disappearing around the corner.

“Emely, how was basketball practice?” I heard him ask his niece in the hallway, and even though they were much too far away, I could hear her telling him about Vivienna and Amber as if they were standing right next to me. It felt like I was one of them. I could feel my eyes glowing, but I didn't know what color.

Unsettled and lost in thought, I turned back to the large painting above the fireplace.

He had wanted to say something. Dammit. Although I already knew his opinion on the species. After all these years since the late nineties, nothing seemed to have changed.