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Delilah

Sunlight roused Delilah from her peaceful slumber, warming her eyes. A slow smile stretched across her face when she opened them. She slid further into the covers, a gentle throb reminding her of Aiden's touch.

She blushed as recollections of the previous evening swept over her cheeks. His overpowering yearning, and the way he held her, seemed like a fundamental need that went beyond ordinary pleasure.

Delilah patted the bed next to her, finding a cold, empty side. Aiden must have risen early and allowed her to rest, but it was nice to enjoy the extra time in bed. She had been weary from the events leading up to their intimate activities, and reading his thoughts felt revealing.

The cool air and leaving the warm bed made her nervous. She slid out and went to the bathroom to wash her body and relieve her aches. Six streams of water massaged her flesh in every direction, leaving her feeling almost orgasmic. She'd found heaven in Aiden's home.

It was now Sunday. She pictured Aryton, her tiny furry tyrant in his cage. He was most likely mounting a quiet protest, his beady eyes narrowed in a rage. "Please, let Draven remember to feed him," she murmured, pushing herself upright. She'd always piled extra food in his bowl before leaving the apartment, a peace offering of leafy greens.

Aiden's face lingered in her thoughts, his words resonating: "Being around someone I care about is new to me, especially in this home." Was he talking about ex-girlfriends? An unsettling sensation flickered across her mind. His smooth, skillful touch last night made it seem like he was a master in the art of making love.

When he'd spoken of the women he'd been with before, curiosity bloomed. How had their paths, so different, come together in this supernatural vortex? It was a riddle veiled in mystery.

Delilah shampooed her hair and then applied conditioner, feeling appreciative of the masculine scent of her new boyfriend. She snorted, realizing that Aiden had made her mind dirtier than before. Minutes passed before she switched off the six jets and grabbed a towel to dry off. Without any makeup, she faced a simple appearance, though that wasn't her main concern. She dried herself, slipped into her panties and bra, wrapped the towel around her hair, and looked for lotion.

Her fingers quivered as she bent down to peek beneath the sink, catching her reflection. "What in the world?"

Delilah spotted a glittery tattoo on her shoulder blade and almost fainted when she saw a similar pattern on her other shoulder. She couldn't see the full length of the lines on her back, but they didn't move despite rubbing them. She couldn't have gotten the lines while she slept since they weren't fresh. No tattoo artist was as adept and quick to etch a pair of angel wings onto her skin.

The color shimmered like polished metal.

Feeling uncertain about her next step, Delilah slipped into Aiden's flannel shirt from last night. The house was quiet, and all she could do was wait for him to figure it out.

* * *

The digital clock's red glare screamed 1:00 PM, each passing second a cold jab. Four hours. Four hours passed while Aiden was away, the scent of his morning coffee serving as a harsh reminder. Delilah's stomach clenched with each tick. In no time, his closet turned into her stomping ground. She grabbed his long johns, a twisted prize under her feet.

Next, his flannel sweater, now saturated with her smell, served as an improvised armor. Her feet resonated in the bedroom, a defiant rhythm. It was time to take action. Her eyes traced the ink coiling around her arm, a promise whispered several hours ago. Was it her abilities that connected them─the raw, electrifying current that now felt severed? Or was it the entire, excruciating experience of waiting for his arrival that led her to seek him out?

She shoved her feet into his scuffed sneakers, a tangible piece of him against the hardwood floor. His sweatshirt enveloped her like a phantom embrace. Outside, a neatly shoveled path cut through the snow. He had considered that─a subtle gesture that intensified the pain of his absence. This was her boundary, and she was reclaiming it.

The steady rhythm of her sneakers hitting the ground matched the pounding rhythm of her heart. The sweet aroma of foxgloves nearby grew stronger. Aunt Edna's white fence ended with sharp ends, and the gnomes' smiles twisted into sinister grins. A robin's joyful singing didn't help ease the tension that was building inside her.

Delilah bit her lip, her eyes scanning the vacant area. Hope dwindled with each passing second. This was it, her last chance to find out if he stopped here.

Her fist hovered inches from the ancient wood of the door, her knuckles ready for a knock. The silence lingered, heavy with expectation. The door opened, causing her to gasp.

A silhouette, sculpted by a soft light, emerged in the doorway. "I was wondering how long it would take for you to come knocking on my door," an older lady expressed, smiling cheerfully.

The woman stood before Delilah, barely covering her shoulders. A halo of white curls softened a face lined with age. Her eyes, a serene ocean of summer skies, spoke of a lifetime lived.

"I... I didn't mean to disturb you," Delilah stammered, feeling uneasy under her gaze. "I was just passing by."

A small hand, fragile and graceful like a feather, flitted away in a casual gesture. "Nonsense, come on in! Looks like you haven't had a bite all morning. Wouldn't trust my nephew to remember feeding a goldfish, let alone his guest!"

Like the sound of wind chimes, a gentle giggle permeated the entryway, calling Delilah inside.

She paused, fingers brushing the doorframe. Chicken and herbs hung in the air, drawing a sharp breath. Her gaze swept over framed pictures as she crossed the entrance, their black and white hues a sharp contrast to the immaculate lace strewn across the room.

"Please join me at the table. I will serve up a bowl of chicken noodle soup," the woman said.

Delilah trailed, the scent of simmering broth guiding her. Dust motes danced in the afternoon sun, illuminating the aged table. A glimpse of pastel yellow framed the kitchen doorway, an echo of her familiar past.

Aiden's aunt entered the kitchen and returned, presenting Delilah with a steaming bowl after she'd taken a seat. Her stomach protested with a guttural rumble, painting her cheeks crimson.

The woman spun, her gaze locking onto Delilah. "My nephew," she stated, the faintest tremor in her voice betraying her displeasure. "I extend my deepest apologies. Aiden's negligence concerning his pantry's supplies is, regrettably, intolerable. He lives in the city and comes here a few times a year."

Delilah suppressed a smile. A hint of amusement flickered across her face as she realized the full extent of Aiden's aunt's irritation.

"I'm Edna, by the way." She paused, a knowing twinkle in her eye. "I doubt he's told you much about me."

Delilah shook her head, the corners of her mouth curving upward. She savored a spoonful of the aromatic soup and let out a soft moan of delight.

"I'm Delilah," she murmured, closing her eyes for a moment. "This tastes delicious and brings back memories of Idaho. That's where I'm from."

Edna watched as she tilted the bowl, scraping the last drops with a spoon. She released a contented sigh.

"Thank you," Delilah offered, a blissful smile gracing her face. "These are the kinds of soups I love."

"I'm glad." Edna's smile crinkled the corners of her eyes as she retrieved her glasses. "Now, let me take a closer look at you," she said.

Delilah felt a rush of warmth, conscious of the fact that she was wearing Aiden's clothes.

"You're more beautiful than I ever imagined," Edna said with a smile. "It's clear that a higher power blessed you."

Delilah's jaw hinged, a silent gasp trapped in her throat. Edna's words, a gentle stream of faith and purpose, hung in the air, foreign and fascinating all at once.

"I'm sorry to barge in like this," she said, her voice a touch too bright. "Just checking if Aiden's around. I didn't mean to… intrude on anything."

"It's no problem, dear." Edna's eyes crinkled at the corners, a soft sound escaping her lips as she gathered Delilah's empty bowl. The scent of baked bread drifted from its depths as she turned, swinging her shoulders, and made her way to the center of the house. "Let me just pop this in the kitchen. Make yourself comfortable."

Delilah nodded as the older woman rounded the corner.

"Aiden got a tip this morning," Edna said, turning on the faucet. "He and some others are looking in Denver for Lowell. His family's very worried, not knowing why he went rogue."

Delilah's eyebrows shot up. Aiden's walls, a gallery of his friends, betrayed a stark truth: no family portraits, no smiling relatives. She could picture how she would react if Liz were in a similar scenario. Both of them lived together for most of their lives, and they had never gone a day without taking a picture.

"But it's great news that my nephew has found his chosen one," Edna continued. "Hayyel is quite happy right now." She returned to the table and arranged a chocolate cake on top of the white tablecloth, placing it in Delilah's direction. "Here," she said, her voice clipped and even. "Eat this. You'll need the energy."

Delilah smiled and took a small bite. "Who's Hayyel?"

Edna slid herself into a chair with a quiet groan that sounded like air escaping a punctured tire. Her blue eyes focused on Delilah.

"Aiden didn't say anything, did he?" she asked, offering her a glass of water, and Delilah shook her head. "These pups couldn't describe the sky to a raven." She clicked her tongue, her eyes briefly clouding over. "Now, eat your cake, and I'll tell you the story of how the Night Shadows came to be."

The atmosphere grew thick, Edna's voice taking on the enchanting cadence of an experienced storyteller, hinting at an exploration of their family's past. Delilah knew, with a shiver down her spine, this wasn't just a story; a legacy was on the verge of being unveiled.

"A group of Scottish soldiers, known for their valor, battled countless adversaries before reaching the battlefield," Edna began. "Their leader, Caleiff, enjoyed the gods' glory but knew there was more. He inspired his troops to greater heights, planning to overthrow a tyrannical monarch and conquer a wealthy town. However, the battle proved more complex than any of them anticipated."

Aiden's aunt inhaled deeply before proceeding with her story.

"The king of the other army, cunning and studying Caleiff, prepared his men for the battle against the northern forces. Despite being outnumbered and outwitted, Caleiff called out to Hayyel, an archangel, seeking assistance to fight and secure victory in the name of the All-Father's glory."

Delilah polished off the cake she'd been savoring and placed her fork on the plate, captivated by the tale of Aiden's ancestors.

"After observing Caleiff's men, Hayyel took the Bloodmoon Brotherhood cup to the field." Edna reached for a mug and held it high. "Twelve soldiers took a sip, granting them strength and bravery in the form of a wolf. Caleiff and the others charged into the battle, fighting as a hundred men each, united by a common goal of winning."

Her voice quivered as she recounted her tale, a gentle sigh slipping from her lips.

"Following their victory, the wolves arrived at a castle surrounded by blood and devastation. They sought their leader, Skora, to restore balance, and she created chosen ones to temper the aggressive ones. The pack backed off."

Delilah gripped the worn armchair, its fabric digging into her clammy palms. Each pulse in her ears echoed the frantic beat in her chest. A parched swallow did little to soothe her throat. Edna's words resonated with her as the truth emerged, reflecting what she'd always known within herself.

"Fated to live among the wolves, the chosen mates bore the weight of a curse that shadowed their bloodlines. Neither could find genuine happiness with anyone until they found their partner." Edna winked at Delilah. "Hayyel granted the chosen ones' bloodline with celestial powers, allowing them to produce light to fight off enemies, hear their partner's thoughts, and manifest wings upon their backs. Choosing Aiden's companionship and spending time with him has enhanced your abilities, Ms. Fox."

Delilah's tongue traced the dry edges of her mouth. At this campground, she gained a better understanding of her abilities and had a revelation about her relationship with Aiden and his wolf heritage.

Edna's chair scraped against the floor as she rose, her hand already reaching for the silver server. "More cake, darling?" she offered, her eyes crinkling at the corners with a warmth that contrasted with the sharpness of her gaze.

Delilah's lips relaxed into a barely detectable grin, and her chin dropped. The deep, comforting scent of chocolate solved everything.

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