The Victorians Wolf Den

Cecil's Curiosity

Cecil sat at the edge of the bed as she tended to her frazzled dad. She whistled a tune her mom taught her when she was very young, a song that her father would often whistle whenever she was sick growing up.

She held his hands and went over childhood stories. She laughed and cried, reminiscing on all the good times she had spent with her dad those past years. She couldn't fathom the thought of losing him. Cecil never had it easy growing up; the only person who understood her was her dad. In fact, she aspires to be a great writer and composer like him.

After tending to her father, Cecil refilled her water, grabbed new towels off the rack, and gently pushed the door where the young lad rested with her foot. She laid the basin with the warm water and the towel on the brown leather bedside stool. Cecil stood there for at least twenty minutes, contemplating what to do next. She had never had to tend to a young man before and didn't know what to expect once she lifted the covers. "Do I undress him completely or just clean his uncovered parts?"

She thought she would start with his face, clean his chest, and move toward his lower body. "That's a much better plan," said the sweet little angel voice inside her head. Cecil looked down and realized Branson had an open wound on his right hand. Nothing serious, but it still shouldn't be left unattended.

She grabbed the sterilized bottle and gauges, pulled the other footstool closer, and sat down. She timidly rested his right arm on her lap as her heart skipped around like the children dancing for hot corn porridge at the harvest festival. Cecil couldn't help but notice how soft his hand was as she applied the ointment and bandages.

She used the back of her hand to clear her clammy forehead and gently unbuttoned his shirt. She dampened the towel, split his hair to clean his face, and realized he was a handsome man- too attractive even. She leaned closer and contoured his mouth with the warm towel when his eyes suddenly opened and stared at her bosom.

Embarrassed, Cecil pulled the cover over his head, preventing him from analyzing her breasts further. Befuddled, Branson sat up too fast and hit her forehead,

"Ouch, that hurts," Cecil murmured as he flipped the cover off his head.

"Who are you? Where am I?" He asked with a husky voice, looking at the ceiling and falling back on the bed. He wasn't used to taking medication, and whatever the Dr. gave him was messing with his system.

"I'm Cecil, Winston's daughter, the mayor, and the doctor brought you here from the ship this morning... do you remember anything beyond this point?" She asked, gently rubbing her forehead. She moved closer as his words turned into a shallow whisper.

"Cecil, Cecil... so it's you," he said with a grin and fainted again.

"Hey, wake up, wake up. What do you mean it's you?" Cecil demanded with a quizzical look, but She couldn't get a word out of him. He was too sleepy, which was a good thing, actually. Sleep helps him regenerate fast, faster than any medication could. Cecil paced up and down, peeking at the door, hoping and waiting for him to open his eyes again. "What did he mean by it is you?" She pondered.

Cecil gathered all his damped clothes and thrust them into the basket. She usually isn't part of the curious bunch, but she would go arm's length to find out who that perfect stranger who seemed to know her by name was. Cecil heard a thump on the floor. She looked down, and It was Branson's wallet. It fell off the laundry basket.

She gazed at the ceiling innocently and dragged it with her foot. She pulled the door slowly behind her and flipped the wallet open. She first saw a family picture, a well-dressed couple arched by two handsome young men. Cecil recognized the tallest one as Branson and wondered if the other was his brother. She looked at the back of the photograph, the paper seemed old, and the date was scratched. There was a signature, and it read the 'Victorians.'

Cecil again peeped through the door, making sure Branson was still asleep. She continued her inquisition and thoroughly flipped his wallet but found nothing incriminating. Cecil turned it, and there was wolf head insignia on the back. It looked handcrafted and well-designed, a family quest perhaps.

Her curiosity didn't stop there. She scrupulously searched Branson's pockets and found a small box and a locket. Cecil hesitated before opening the box, 'Open it. You've already gone that far,' that little voice from her subconscious said. She found a broken watch and a ring inside, and by the look of it, it hadn't been worn in a long time. Cecil opened the locket, and on one side was a picture of Branson and 'future wife' written on the other half. 'Future wife, I wonder who that could be?' that little voice said again with a smile. Cecil was too anxious to fall asleep that night, and when she finally did, she had a bizarre dream.

Cecil woke up with heavy heart palpitation, it might have been a dream, but to her subconscious, everything felt real. She was running up the hills, chased by a rather large wolf with furs coaxed around the neck and glowing rings in its eyes. Reaching the cliffs, Cecil eventually stopped running. She should have been scared, but instead, she felt a surge of courage coursing through her vein.

Her eyes widened, and her heart skipped a beat as the ferocious wolf approached her and stared deep into her eyes, which were docile in contrast. She gently put out her hand and patted the wolf's nose. It tilted its head and howled to the moon. Its howling echoed through the woods, and sat passively at Cecil's feet. She woke up from her dream, and the morning sun hadn't yet risen.

Meanwhile, rumors circulated in the neighborhood about what might have happened on the ship. The mayor and the police were investigating the case of the passengers found dead aboard the Durkheim the 2nd. They assumed it might have been sharks since the boat got damaged. What other explanation could there be? How do you explain dismembered bodies and chewed limbs?

Everybody in Lenchester was just thankful that the storm had passed and their loved ones were back in town. Cecil might not be the most loveable person in the city because of her straightforward attitude, but Sir Winston is loved by all.

Though he became famous and favored by the crown, he was still attached to his people and town. He had big dreams, and his endeavors created many jobs in the community. Cecil was very grateful. Her dad was the most valuable thing in her life, and she couldn't stand living without him. All she had to do now was tend to her father and nurse him back to health.

Cecil felt a slight throbbing as the thought ran across her mind. Her ambiguous thoughts left her even more confused. How is she going to cope with a perfect stranger in the house? There'd never been another man besides her dad in their home or her life. She cracked a smile looking at the mirror. How ironic! It's only been a month since she stood in front of that same mirror and made a wish for a companion, and now that a handsome man is lying in the room next door to hers, she wishes to back out.

'Either way, it's all temporary. Branson should be up and out of her hair as soon as he gets better.' Cecil twirled and twisted her hair with her finger trying to figure out why she was so nervous about him. 'So what, he saw your breast and almost kissed you? It was all coincidental and didn't mean a thing, right?' the little devil figure said, sitting on her shoulder, legs crossed with a pitchfork. All that would have to wait. The morning was fast approaching, and Cecil needed to go back to sleep.

Branson perspired as his body heat rose. The medication was wearing off, and his wolf instincts were taking over. He was dreaming of his training days back at the Victorian den. Every young boy and girl had to undergo the vigorous and sometimes torturous vetting process to become a den member. Being the first son of the queen made it worse for him. He had to show prowess and ambition suited to be a leader. He would one day have to replace his father and mother, but that can only happen if he is the most potent alpha male. When the time comes, he'll have to face anyone who challenges his rights, so he has to train harder.

Cecil's journal

What an odd young man father has brought home. He seems to know mine and father's name very well, yet we know nothing of him. He's good-looking and possibly searching for a future wife.

I wonder what kind of woman he's looking for, or yet is he good husband material? I can't wait for him to wake up and find out what he meant by it's you. Could it be? Is he the answer to my wish? Did father bring him home because he saw in him a future son-in-law? I need to know more about him before jumping to any conclusion.