Chapter 35
His Nanny Mate
Chapter 35: The Golden Wolf
Moana
As Ethan mentioned the âGolden Wolfâ, I felt Mina react strongly in my head. She didnât say anything,
but I could tell that she was just as intrigued as I was. âI havenât heard of the Golden Wolf,â I said,
shaking my head.
Ethan smiled. âIf you want to know more about werewolves, then this will interest you,â he said. He
turned and started to walk, nodding with his head for me to follow. As I walked with him, he began to
speak, gesticulating with his hands.
âThe story of the Golden Wolf is a story that has been passed down through generations and
generations of werewolves,â he began. âIf Iâm being honest, Iâm not entirely sure if itâs real or just an old
wivesâ tale; some werewolves will say itâs real, and others will say that itâs just a legend. Either way, itâs
an important story. You see, there was supposedly once an extremely rare, golden wolf that was
spotted only once in the forest by a human. He was hunting for his village, long before humans knew
about werewolves, and he had his bow drawn to shoot the wolf, thinking it was an elk â but just as he
was about to shoot, he realized that it was actually an enormous wolf. The wolf looked into his eyes,
causing him to drop his bow and run back to his village. He told his entire village the story of the wolf
and led them back to the spot where he found it, but it was gone. There were no footprints, no trace of
the wolf. The village thought that the man was insane. He kept saying that the Golden Wolf would bring
the world into the next age, but some people thought that it was an omen of the apocalypse.â
âWhat happened to the man?â I asked.
Ethan shrugged. âThey burned him at the stake. The legend says that he continued to speak of the
Golden Wolf, even when his body was engulfed in flames.â
âThatâs insane.â
âIt is,â Ethan said. âThatâs why I donât think itâs a true story. How could the man know all of this just from
one look at the wolf?â
I paused for a moment, turning my head to look at some of the paintings around us before speaking
again. âSo, this Golden Wolf,â I said, chewing the words thoughtfully on my tongue, âwas it ever seen
again?â
Ethan shook his head. âThe people who claim it was real say that it went into hiding, and that it possibly
even went dormant. Some claim that it will present itself again as someoneâs wolf. A âchosen oneâ, if
you will. But⦠I donât know. All of this âchosen oneâ nonsense is usually just that: nonsense. And if the
Golden Wolf was somehow real, it would probably be killed by fanatics before anything could happen.â
âIt almost sounds like more of a curse than a blessing,â I said.
Ethan nodded. Just then, one of the staff members came up to him and whispered something in his
ear. âWell, Iâm afraid I have to go give my speech to end the exhibit,â he said. âWould you be interested
in coming to the afterparty with me for some drinks?â
âUm⦠Sure, why not?â I replied.
âGreat,â Ethan said with a smile. âIâll see you soon â and donât forget your painting.â
As I watched Ethan walk away, however, I couldnât get the story of the Golden Wolf out of my mind. I
reached out to Mina, whose presence I still felt, in the hopes of getting an answer.
âWhy were you so intrigued by that story earlier?â I asked.
âIâm not sure,â Mina replied, her voice growing more faint by the moment. âI feel as though itâs important
to me somehowâ¦â
â¦
At the end of the exhibition, Ethan took me out through the back door of the gallery and we got into the
back of a waiting car. I held the painting he gave me, which was wrapped tightly in brown paper, and
looked out the window as the driver began to take us to the destination of the afterparty.
âI hope Iâm not underdressed,â I said, looking down at my plain black dress and the high heels that I
had stashed in my purse to change into on the way to the exhibit.
Ethan shook his head. âNot at all. You look lovely.â
I felt my face redden at the artistâs kind words. A few minutes later, we pulled up to the curb outside a
bar. Ethan got out and came around to let me out.
As I stepped out of the car and looked up at the fancy bar, I couldnât help but feel as though it was
familiar somehow⦠I couldnât quite place my finger on it, though. This feeling continued as Ethan held
the door open for me and led me up the stairway, but I still couldnât quite recall; perhaps I had been
here before and simply forgot about it.
âEthan!â a voice called over the din of the packed room from a table in the corner. âOver here!â
Ethan perked up at the sound of the voice. Smiling, he waved for me to follow. I stood by patiently as
he hugged a woman at the table, then shook hands with two other young men.
âEveryone, this is my good friend Moana,â Ethan said with a warm smile. âMoana, this is Haley, Jace,
and Logan. Theyâre good artist friends of mine⦠Iâm going to go get us some drinks. Iâll be right back.â
I nodded politely to the three werewolves, but was surprised to find that they all reacted warmly to me.
Haley even scooched out of the way for me to sit, patting the spot in the booth next to her. I felt a bit
timid as I sat, but she immediately started fawning over my hair, and I didnât feel so nervous anymore.
âYou must be the pretty au pair that Ethan canât stop talking about,â Haley said. I felt my face get hot.
Was Ethan really talking about me like that?
âI hear youâre a hell of an artist, too,â Jace interjected. âWhere did you go to art school?â
I shook my head. âOh, no,â I said. âIâm not professionally trained. I just draw for fun.â
âWell, it certainly sounds like more than just a hobby,â Logan said. âWhat did you go to school for?â
âEarly childhood education, actually,â I replied, raising my voice to be heard over the voices and music
of the packed bar. âI know itâs not very interesting.â
âNonsense!â Haley said. âYou should tell us more about it sometime.â
For the first time since I had found myself caught up in the werewolf world, I actually felt like an equal. It
was strange to have other people asking about my own interests at first, but by the time I had a couple
of drinks in me, I felt right at home.
Eventually, I excused myself to the bathroom. I weaved my way through the crowd, making my way
toward the restroom door, when suddenly, it hit me: I had been here before.
This was Edrickâs bar.
Suddenly, I felt a hand on my arm â and as I turned around, I met two familiar steely gray eyes.