When she woke up, he was there. The daylight illuminated his hair, making it shine with golden highlights. Michael greeted her with a smile. "Good morning! Breakfast?"
Alex nodded, squinting into the light. He helped her sit up and brought her a tray overflowing with dishes: bacon and scrambled eggs, toast and jam. A glass of fruit juice and a small one-flower vase with a large orange gerbera.
"All this is for me?" asked Alex. Then he looked up. "Have you had breakfast yet?" He shook his head, she smiled at him and tapped the mattress with her hand. "Then we'll share it."
"If you insist..." And he sat cross-legged beside her.
When they had emptied all the dishes, Alex leaned back on the pillows, a satisfied smile on his face.
"Then I had not overindulged!"
"I would say no!" She felt like she hadn't touched food in days.
"Would you like anything else?"
She smiled. "No, thank you. I'm satiated."
"I'll bring the tray down."
A few minutes later there was a knock at the door. "Come in!" said Alex.
She immediately recognised the man who came forward: it was the brother Michael had told her about. "I hope I didn't wake you up," he said.
"No, we just finished breakfast."
"I thought in fact I would find Mick here."
"He went to the kitchen."
"I would still like to introduce myself, I am Christopher, Michael's brother."
"Alex," she replied, offering him her hand.
"May I?" he asked, pointing to the armchair beside the bed.
"Sure."
"I will not stay long. However, I wanted to personally thank you for everything you have done for my brother and apologise for the damage done to you. We will compensate you..."
Alex had raised a hand to prevent him from continuing. "That is not necessary. In fact, I am indebted to you."
Chris smiled. A warm, welcoming smile. "Don't even joke about that." Then the door opened behind him and Michael made his entrance. "Mick! I thought I'd find you here, but I took the opportunity anyway to introduce myself and make Alex's acquaintance. I'll leave you now. I have work to do, and Dr Fredrik has done nothing but recommend absolute rest for our guest,' he said as he stood up, then turned to Alex. "I hope to have the pleasure of chatting with you as soon as you feel better."
"The pleasure will be mine."
When he came out, Michael sat down next to Alex.
"You don't look much alike," she told him, looking closely at his face, "although there is a nonsense that makes you similar."
He shrugged his shoulders. "The family genes."
---
Michael took a shower and, after putting on clean clothes, joined his brother in the study.
Christopher got up from his desk and walked over to him, and together they sat down on the dark leather sofa. "Alex looks much better."
"Yeah." A smile spread across his face.
Then Chris' tone became serious. "Does he know about us? Does he know what we are?"
Michael shook his head.
"So you don't suspect anything?"
"I don't know. When I arrived at her flat I transformed to protect her from the other wolves, but I don't know if she remembers it, or how her unconscious processed the event."
"So you still haven't erased her memories of that night." Michael shook his head. Christopher scrutinised his brother's face. "What are your intentions, Mick?" Receiving no reply he continued. "Are you going to tell her what you are?"
Michael raised his eyes to meet his brother's gaze. "I wish I didn't have to lie to you."
"Do you want her to stay in your life?"
Yeah. That was exactly what he wanted. He did not want to erase the memory of him from her mind, he did not want her to forget him.
"Are you in love with it?"
Christopher's voice came to him softer than the previous questions. Michael stood up and reached the window, followed by his brother's gaze. "I have never met a woman like her." She intrigued, fascinated and attracted him.
Christopher's hand rested on his shoulder. "You know you don't have much time to decide, brother." For then they would no longer have the chance to erase their memory from Alex's mind. "Know that I will be on your side, whatever you choose."
Michael turned to meet his brother's eyes. "Thank you." And in that moment he felt that all the years he had been away had not loosened his bond with Chris. A sense of warmth and gratitude lifted the weight of the decision he would have to make.
"In any case, Alex will have to be removed from Oldgrove: she would be in danger in the city."
Michael nodded. If she had returned to the city, the wolves who had attacked her would not have been long in finishing the job. "Is our mother aware of what happened?"
"Not yet. I was waiting for Alex to recover." He paused. "Now I will wait for you to make a decision," she finally told him.
"I thank you."
Chris raised an eyebrow. "And of what, brother?"
"Any news of Nat?"
Christopher shook his head and his face darkened. "Not yet."
"She will call as soon as she can. Have you made Sabrina aware of the situation?"
Christopher shook his head again. 'She's in London. She was supposed to come back at the weekend, but I told her to postpone it. I'd rather stay away for now, she'll be safer."
Just before lunch Michael silently entered Alex's room. His eyes intercepted him as soon as the door opened. "I didn't want to wake you."
"I wasn't sleeping," she said as she sat up. In fact, she had been awake for a while already, pondering the distorted and ragged memories of the night of the attack. In those days her dreams - or nightmares - had been populated by images of wolves and men who were also wolves. Memories of the fight that took place in his flat in the dream version were peppered with supernatural creatures. In her waking moments she had long pondered what she remembered... or thought she remembered. The image of a wolf turning into Michael, the wolf that had attacked her changing form and speaking to her. She had kept wondering if those were her memories or the delirium of fever. That was the most plausible explanation, and her reason encouraged her in that direction, but, at the same time, she could not dismiss those memories as mere hallucinations: they were so real, so strong in her mind... but also inexplicable, irrational, utterly dreamlike. Not least because one question continued to remain unanswered: what the hell were wolves doing in his flat? How had they managed to break down an iron door? None of this made sense.
Michael walked in and placed a duffel bag on one of the armchairs. "I got some stuff back at your place," he said, interrupting her thoughts.
"Thank you."
"The bike was also brought... and your swords," he said, opening the bag and showing them to her. "I thought you might like to have them back."
Alex smiled. "Thank you." Then she motioned for him to come closer and he sat down next to her. "How are you?" she asked, brushing his torso with her hand.
A shiver ran down his spine. "I'm fine, thanks to you." He stood looking into her eyes and felt a strong desire to kiss her; but first he had to decide. Decide whether to reveal to her who he really was and involve her in his life, which at that moment had taken a dangerous and unforeseen turn, or to push her away from him for good, erase her memories and let her go back to her normal life, as if nothing had happened, as if they had never met. This thought weighed like a boulder on his chest, but the decision he had to make was not for himself, he had to choose what was best for Alex. And for her, right now, it was best to stay out of the whole situation. He had already risked getting her killed and would not forgive himself if she died because of him. The most sensible solution was therefore to erase her memories and put her safely in any English town, as long as it was far away from there. But something prevented him from doing that: a dull ache in his chest at the thought of losing her.
"Are you sure?" asked Alex, reading the distress on her face.
He nodded and sketched a smile. He liked the way she looked at him, caring and concerned. She, a mere human, so fragile compared to him, a werewolf.
Alex shifted his gaze to the window screened by the white curtains, then sought her eyes. "I need to know what happened in my flat," he finally said. "My memories... are so fuzzy... mingle with dreams...."
"What do you remember?" he asked.
"I remember the door being torn off... wolves..."
Michael waited a long time before replying. 'They were looking for me. They were the same people who had attacked me when you brought me to your home. Wolves... they are trained beasts by them." Michael felt the chill tighten in his heart with every word he spoke. He was lying to her. He had finally made up his mind. For her sake, he would protect her from his world.
Alex furrowed his brow. "Then they were real... I have no memories of people... however someone spoke...."
"There was a man who gave commands to the beasts, you may not remember him."
She shook her head. Memories kept wandering unconnected in her mind, but Michael's explanation made sense. The delirium of fever had turned the man into a talking wolf. "What happened to them?"
"Two of the wolves died, the other escaped with their master."
"Why do they want to kill you?"
Michael shook his head. "Actually I think their intent was to kidnap me to ransom my family. As you know, we are well off."
"Sorry."
Michael looked at her. "I'm sorry for everything that happened to you." She shrugged her shoulders. "But I will keep you safe until those responsible are caught."
"It is not necessary. I can take care of myself."
"But I am responsible for the danger you are in. They might be looking for you to know where I am hiding."
"I will move somewhere else for a while," she said with a shrug. 'As you once said: I am a nomad,' she said with a smile. And my flat is now unusable. She wondered how she would explain this to the landlord... and how she would pay him back for the damage. The little she had to spare would be used to move to another city and start again.
'We'll talk about it when you've fully recovered,' Michael said as he stood up. He walked to the door. "Rest now."
Closing the door behind him, Michael stood on the landing, still. The frost had totally engulfed his heart, which now lay inert and heavy in his chest. Slowly he went downstairs and into the semi-circular east lounge. He poured whisky into a glass and sat down on the velvet-lined armchair near the fireplace.
Christopher found him with the glass in his hand and his gaze fixed on the flames. "Everything OK, bro?" Michael turned his head and nodded. "Alex is sick again?" asked Chris as he approached.
Michael shook his head. "She is much better. We will be able to take her to a safe place in a little while."
"So that's the problem. Did you wipe her memories?"
"It was not necessary. Her memories were clouded and she accepted the explanation I gave her: the wolves were ferocious beasts commanded by one of the men who had attacked me with the aim of kidnapping me."
"And he believed you?"
"So it seems."
"Don't you think it would be better to erase her memory of you and what happened?"
"No." Michael's reply was dry. "He has no suspicions." And I don't want him to forget about me.
Christopher nodded. He understood his brother's state of mind and did not insist further. "You made the right choice," he therefore told him. "And I understand that it cost you a lot. But telling her who you were would have involved her in an even more dangerous situation. She is a human, she is fragile."
Michael nodded, then smiled. "Never say that in front of her, though." He set his glass down on the coffee table, then stood up. "I need some time alone," he said, and walked off into the now dark park.
He took a few steps towards the hedges, then undressed, left his clothes on the ground and turned. He began to run towards the hill. The earth was cold and firm under his pads, while the grass was moist and soft. He continued running down the rocky slope, among the heather and low shrubs, until he reached the top. There he threw back his neck and howled at the moon for a long time.
When he returned to the villa he still felt restless, but at least his muscles, if not his head, seemed tired. He let himself lie on the bed still dressed and after a while sleep came to give him respite from his own thoughts.