Page 3 of A Kiss From a Wolfman
Once outside, the setting sun momentarily blurs my vision. The sweet, earthy scents of the garden swell around me. The damp grass soaks my silk slippers as I trudge through the greenery.
Quickly glancing around to make sure I am alone, I hurry through the tall hedges and underneath the swaying willows. The sound of sea birds calling overhead encourages me. It’s not far now—I should still be able to make it.
As I pass underneath the final tree, leaves brush my cheeks and hair. The sight before me is glorious. Vast blue water as far as the eye can see. The orange sun is dipping below the horizon as pink tendrils coil in the darkening sky.
Glancing up, I stare at the top of the watchtower, only to find the loan guard on patrol asleep with his helmet off under the waning sun. Luck favors me once more as I travel down the sandy beach.
The wet sand makes it hard to keep my footing, but I manage it. The last rays of sunlight slip away as I reach the small dock.It is weather-worn, crumbling from time and seawater. Gruff voices of men can be heard as I approach. Heavy dragging sounds echo down the dock as various objects are hauled aboard the vessel.
It is a large ship with blinding white sails and a polished deck. A couple nods to a man standing before a ledger before slipping aboard. I make my way over to him. The worn wood of the dock presses against my feet where my slippers have split.
The man before the ledger is older—with a graying beard and a deeply wrinkled face. His red captain's coat has seen better days as I take in its faded sleeves and worn buttons. He doesn’t look up as I approach.
Clearing my throat, I wait for his eyes to meet mine.
“I’d like to buy passage on this ship. The further it can take me from here, the better.”
The old man scoffs before slamming the ledger closed.
“We’re all out of rooms.” His eyes trail down my body, taking in the sorry state of my clothes and hair. “Besides, you couldn’t afford it anyway.”
With trembling hands, I reach into my bag and riffle around before producing what I need. I drop the ten gold coins atop his closed ledger.
“I’ll take a private suite,” I say, with more command than I’ve ever heard in my voice.
The old man raises his graying brows but says nothing as he sweeps my coins into his coat pocket. He opens his ledger and dips his pen into a small ink pot.
“Very well,” he says. “Name?”
“What?”
“A name,” he says, letting out a deep sigh. “Your name—doesn’t need to be your real one. I just need something to put in the manifest.”
Why did I not consider this before? I can leave no trail of my former self lest my family try and locate me. I wait for sadness to hit me, but it doesn’t.
Instead, I feel unbridled joy at being able to shed this shackle of my past.
Princess Caryssa is no more—she died in that old room in the castle. I look up towards the darkening sky, and the first stars appear. They twinkle down at me in encouragement.
I think back to my first meeting with Laurelle—that innocent question she posed me in the carriage—now means much more.
A smile pulls at my lips.
“Stella,” I say. “My name is Stella.”
It is a name of my choosing—one that I will use happily to craft my future. Stella has no past—she is no one—a blank slate. My destiny belongs to me.
“Welcome aboard, Stella,” the captain says. “Cabin three will be yours for the duration of our journey. We sail pretty far north—our final stop will be about two months from now.”
I nod and walk towards the deck of the ship. It bobs before me, teasing me with its promise. A ship hand waits on the other side—a young boy with a round face and pale blonde hair.
“Miss?” he asks, extending a sunkissed hand towards me.
I take it and my first step towards freedom without hesitation.
1
STELLA
