Silver Tears of the Moon
Castor rolled over under the heavy covers and draped his arm over Imogen, who sighed in her sleep. It was impossible to explain how he felt about her. She'd filled a gap in his soul that he didn't think would ever be filled, and she had made him into the man he knew he could be, rather than the man his father had made him out to be for so many years. In him, Imogen seemed to see only the good. She loved the strength in him, instead of rejecting his weaknesses, she saw the good in him instead of focusing on the bad, and she reached out to the love inside of him, instead of feeding the hatred and resentment that had been placed there by years of being treated like a waste of breath by his father, who regretted his very existence and had made it clear on a daily basis while he was growing up.
His father had found it funny to name him Castor, the mortal brother of the twins Castor and Pollux in greek mythology. The irony of his fate was that the twins in greek mythology were helpers to mankind, where he, Castor son of Blane, had only ever inflicted pain wherever he went. That is, until Imogen had found him, and released him from the despair of his childhood under the watchful eye of an unforgiving father.
A warm feeling rushed over him as he remembered the night before. He'd gone down onto one knee at a candle lit dinner, and proposed, and the love of his life had accepted him, eyes glittering with tears. He could see the diamond ring on her elegant finger as her hand rested on the pillow next to her head. He didn't know what he'd done to deserve a woman like Imogen. She was kind, sweet, and sensible, and there was something about her that reduced him to nothing when she looked into his eyes and put her arms around his neck. He sent out a silent thank you to anyone up there who would listen, and closed his eyes, focusing only on the warmth of her body next to him.
Then his eyes shot open and he squinted across the room at the calendar. He couldn't see it from where he was lying, so he silently slid from underneath the covers, taking care not to wake her, and padded across the large bedroom to the desk in the corner. Shivers ran down his spine as he realized that the days had blown away unnoticed, and it was the first night of full moon. He hated full moon. It was two nights long, the first night with the moon not entirely full but full enough to bring about the change, and the second night strong enough to cause him to forget every trace of humanity left in him.
Castor was a werewolf a curse that passed from male to male, all of his ancestors having it as far back as he knew. They changed with the onset of full moon, and his bloodlust raged on the second night with such fervor that he feared it might tear him apart if he didn't tear someone else apart first. His whole life he had hated himself for the lives he'd claimed.
When Imogen came into his life, thinks had changed. He found he could control the bloodlust more and more, and on some nights even resist the change in party, and later in full. On the nights of the change he always arranged to be out of town, using business trips as an excuse, or visiting friends in other cities that he never really had. Imogen had allowed him the freedom to do so, and he'd been able to hide his curse from her.
Tonight would be a problem though. He cursed himself for not keeping better track of the date. He wouldn't have time to arrange anything in such short notice. Not even his job called on him with such urgency. Panic rippled through his body as he tried to think of a way out. He couldn't risk her seeing anything. Through the course of their relationship he'd become more and more able to control it, and many nights he was able to stay almost completely human, with only a slight sharpening of his teeth or an outbreak of hair on his back. But that didn't happen all the time. Sometimes he was more wolf than man, even now, and he couldn't risk it.
She stirred in the bed, stretched her thin arms above her head, and yawned. Then she pushed herself up on her elbows, looking sleepily across the room.
“What are you doing?” she asked with a husky voice.
“I was just thinking.”
“Come back to bed, it's lonely without you.”
He smiled and walked back slowly, sliding in next to her. She wrapped her arms around his chest and leaned her head on his shoulder.
“Baby,” he started, unsure where to go from here, “I have to go out of town for a bit.”
“Why?” she looked up at him with her big dark eyes.
“For work. They're sending me to a conference.”
“On such short notice?”
“One of our speakers got unexpectedly ill; they need me to step in.”
His heart was beating in his chest as he looked up at the ceiling, trying not to get lost in her eyes. She had to fall for it, he wouldn't know what else to do. She was quiet for a while, frowning as she digested this.
“Alright,” she said eventually, “how long will you be gone?”
“Two nights,” he said, breathing out relief, “I'll be back before you know it, I promise.”
She was silent for a while longer, and then she sat up.
“I didn't even know you were a speaker, you've never done this before?”
“It's really just an emergency thing.”
She was getting suspicious, he could see it. He wasn't a public speaker, they'd never asked him to speak.
He kissed her, hoping to distract her, and after a while she gave in, giving herself over to him.
Late afternoon he packed his bags, taking only what he needed for two nights, taking care to pack suits as if he was really going to present himself to a room full of people. Then he kissed her goodbye, reminded her of his love for her, and drove off. He stopped at a convenience store and bought meat, to cook or eat raw, whichever he needed. Outside of town he took a winding road into the woods and drove until he found the dusty trail that lead to a cabin. No one ever came to this part of the woods. The trees grew almost on top of each other, making it difficult to navigate through, and there was nothing special about it like a lake or a good view. What mattered to Castor was that it was very far from civilization, too far for him to hurt anyone if bloodlust overcame him.
He sat on the porch as the sun dropped slowly behind the horizon, lost in a tangle of his painful past. Just after it was dark completely, his skin started tingling, and he knew it was almost time.
Then he heard a twig snap. He stilled and listened silently. Another one snapped, and another, and he heard a gasp. It wasn't a nocturnal animal, as he thought at first, but a person. He panicked at the thought. Why was someone here? He could hurt them. He ran inside and closed the door, hoping that whoever it was would think the place to be deserted.
He waited. Seconds ticked by and minutes felt like hours. Just when he breathed out, thinking he was alone again, there was a knock on his door. He froze. Another knock, and then a voice so familiar rang through the air that his heart sank to his stomach, and he collapsed onto his knees. It was Imogen.
“Castor!” she was calling, “Castor, I know you're in there.”
He walked to the door and leaned against it, closing his eyes, willing everything to go away. But her voice brought him back.
“Open up, we really need to talk.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I followed you. Why did you lie to me?”
Suddenly his eyes widened in terror. He could feel the change coming on, and Imogen was on the other side of the door.
“Please go home, baby,” he pleaded.
“I'm not going anywhere until you explain yourself.”
“Please, Imogen,” he tried, but then a pain hit his chest and he roared out in pain.
Imogen was quiet on the other side of the door. Then, slowly, the door knob turned.
“No!” he yelled, but another pain racked his body and he curled on the floor. Tonight was going to be one of those, where he would change more than he wanted to. The door swung open, and her body was framed with light from the full moon behind her. She looked at him, eyes filled with worry, but as she stared her face contorted with horror as he changed into a wolf in front of her. She turned and ran.
Castor wanted to run after her, but he knew there was no way he would be able to talk to her now, not looking like this. He was also scared that he would hurt her. The change was much stronger tonight, and he didn't know if he would be able to control his bloodlust. Imogen was the last person on earth he wanted to hurt.
When the two nights were over he went home. He pushed open the door, and found the house empty. In the bedroom her clothes were removed from the cupboard, and her car was gone. He dialed her number with trembling fingers, and when she answered her voice was distant, emotioneless.
“I don't want to talk to you.”
“Baby, please…”
“I have nothing to say to you. Stay away from me, don't contact me again.”
“Just let me—“
She hung up. He stood in the bedroom, unable to process what just happened. Then he screamed, a scream that sounded almost like the roar when he was a wolf. With enormous strength he pulled over the desk in the corner, and relishing the sort of relief that brought he started wrecking everything in the house, only stopping once it was trashed, breathing heavily, and coming to his senses. Then he collapsed on the floor with his head in his hands, and wailed.
Days turned into weeks, and Castor went through the motions of going to work, then coming home and fixing the mess he'd made, repairing or replacing what he'd broken as best he could. He switched his mind off, hardly ate, and refused to sleep for the memories of her haunting his dreams. By the time the full moon came round again, he stayed home for lack of a reason to leave. The change was quick, he couldn't even think about controlling him, and his bloodlust ruled his body. He went out into the night and satisfied his cravings, creating regrets that haunted him in dreams after he changed back into a man, and the full moon was behind him. Without her, he realized, there was no hope for him.
By the next full moon he was spent. He was exhausted from hardly sleeping at all, and skin and bones because he refused to eat other than his hunts as a wolf. If starving himself was the only way to rid this world of him, then that's what he would do. The night the full moon racked his body with pain and bloodlust again, he couldn't hold it anymore. He ran through the night to her house, his paws pushing large print in the soft soil of her flowerbeds. He didn't want to kill her, knew he wouldn't be able to, no matter how much he was craving blood. He just wanted to be close to her again. She had been his only relief from this hellish life, and without her he knew he couldn't carry on. It would be the end of him.
He paced up and down in front of her house all night growling and grunting as he fought his urges, howling as he lamented his loss. He knew she was inside, he could smell her, and his heart ached. On the morning after full moon, as the first rays of dawn reached over the horizon, he finally turned into a man. With the change being so strong he was weaker than he'd ever been after a night as a werewolf, and with his bad eating habit and sleeping pattern of two months he could only lie on her grass, breathing in shallow gasps.
He heard the front door click, but he was too weak to do anything about it. The last thing he saw was Imogen, walking across the lawn with a blanket, covering his naked body. Before he passed out, he was sure he saw tears staining her cheeks.
He woke up hours later in his own bed. The light in the room told him it must be late afternoon. He smelled coffee and turned around to find a tray with toast and a cup of coffee next to him. He sat up, hope glimmering deep inside of him, but when he strained his ears, listening for a hint that she was around, he found the house empty and dull, as he'd known it for the past two months. His heart sank, and he fell back onto the pillow, staring blankly at the plate of food.
He knew what it was now. Her love stopped the change, gave him the strength to control it. Without her he was nothing more than a bloodthirsty animal, a monster. She'd given him hope, and a purpose. Suddenly he remembered her coming to him from inside. She must have brought him home, cared for him. There was still something left.
He dialed her number, and waited. She didn't answer, it only through to voicemail.
“Imogen, please, come home. I love you.” He hesitated, wondering if he should say anything else, and then, “without you I'm nothing more than a monster, but your love changed me into a man, and kept me there. Please, baby, come back. We can do this, if you'll just give me a chance.”
He hung up, feeling like his chest was going to explode. He thought of eating, but a wave of nausea hit him, and he decided against it.
Days went by, and he gave up. Gave up hope, gave up his will to live. He lay down, and sighed, wishing the end would come. There was nothing left. And then he heard a key turn in the door. He heard the familiar clicking of her heels on the tiles, and the sound of her bag hitting the counter.
I'm hallucinating, he thought to himself, I've lost it. This is the end. But then, like a vision, she walked into the room, her arms crossed over her chest. She looked small and weathered, like she'd been through as much as he had.
“I'm not going to pretend I'm not afraid of you,” she started, not looking at him, “but I won't try to tell you that I can carry on with my life after what we've had. You broke a lot of things between us, and I'm not saying this is going to work.”
“I'll try, Imogen, I'll do everything I can—“
“I just can't do this without you. I don't want to. I don't know if I can do it with you, but I have to try.”
“Imogen,” he whispered, and he bit back his own tears and fresh ones streamed down her cheeks. It was a long road, but she was back. He would fight, forever, to beat the curse of his bloodlines. With her, he knew he could.
Chapter 1
Castor as the perfect woman, and he's asked her to marry him, happy to spend the rest of his life in the bliss she's given him for the past two years. He thinks back to how she's been the exact opposite, offering love when he'd ever known was pain.
Chapter 2
Castor is a werewolf, a curse that has been passed on from male to male in his bloodline. Since he met Imogen he can control the change and bloodlust, but he makes sure he's never around her, in case there are times when he can't control it.
Chapter 3
He realizes he hasn't kept track of time, and full moon is that night. He makes up a story to get away from her, but she becomes suspicious and follows him.
Chapter 4
When she finds him she witnesses his change and becomes petrified of him, breaking of their relationship, refusing to see him at all. He gives up and wrecks his home, refuses to eat and sleep, and his change becomes impossible to control without her in his life.
Chapter 5
He realizes he has to be with her, and he spends the night as a wolf in front of her house, trying to just be closer to her. When he changes back into a human in the morning she comes out and helps him back home.
Chapter 6
He asks for her back, but she doesn't come straight away, and he gives up hope. Then she returns, telling him that she's scared of him and it might not work but she can't live without him and she's willing to try.
Characters:
Castor - Tall, not particularly muscular, blond hair, hazel eyes. He turns into a werewolf on full moon but can control it to an extent with Imogen in his life. He can't live without her, she's the love of his life.
Imogen - Small build, dark hair and eyes, sensible, kind, caring. Willing to fight for what she loves, but takes time to think about things and make her decisions.