Tear out All Your Tenderness

We sat in the autumn grass tucked under the shade of the gargantuan Scarlet Oak tree that took root in the field behind our house. Eva, my sister of only 7 years, laid her tiny head in my lap as I rested, back pressed against the gnarled trunk of the oak. Elijah, my older brother of 22 years, was seated to the right of me in a similar position, reading to us one of his favorite books.

It was mid-October and the leaves had begun changing their color ever so slightly. Most of the them remained a rich, vibrant green, but every now and again a splash of red, orange, or yellow could be spotted. The weather was as sunny and sweltering as ever; the cool, autumnal temperatures had not yet graced the South with their presence. The Scarlet Oak's branches stretched tall and spread wide, creating an expansive canopy that did a fine job protecting us from the unyielding sun.

In slight boredom, I took my sister's acorn-brown hair – though a similar shade to my own, hers was eons more silken than the thick, unruly mess of waves on my head – in my fingers and began to braid it in an intricate pattern. Listening to someone read could only be so captivating, after all.

As Elijah continued to blather on, I began to feel fatigue tugging at the corner of my eyelids, tempting them to close. I tried my damnedest to resist but it seemed to be a losing battle. My body ached from the physical exertion of the chores we had done in the cooler hours of the morning: cooking breakfast, tidying the house, feeding the animals, tending the garden and more. Eventually, I could no longer stave off the exhaustion and let my tiredness overcome me, shutting my heavy eyelids.

Sleep did not come, as I expected it would, but a weightless, warm state of peacefulness came in its stead.

"What a pretty picture," crooned a honeyed voice after a time. One that did not belong to either Elijah or Eva. "Familial love. So very touching."

The voice was unmistakably masculine and held a slight English accent. The tone was captivatingly smooth. It reminded me of honey as it spilled from the bottle; smooth, steady, rich. Delicious.

I knew that voice all too well.

I opened my no-longer-tired eyes and saw Logan Grimaldi standing feet away, looking positively ethereal as the sun radiated off his neatly groomed, champagne blonde hair and alabaster skin. The sun was shining from behind him, creating a halo of gold about his head, adding even more to his empyrean air. He was ever the picture of effortless style in a loose-fitting white linen shirt, snug peanut-brown slacks rolled up to his ankles, and bare feet. The mere sight of him dazzled me as always.

He sauntered over towards us, oozing confidence and cockiness, locking his enchanting blue eyes with mine.

"Evelyn dear." The words poured from his mouth and made my heart flutter in an undesired manner. "How lovely it is to see you."

Logan and I had met countless times before. Every time a chance encounter. I had never once asked him to come see me, yet he always found a reason to. There were even times he'd show up with no reason at all. Excusing himself by saying, “Why would I deny myself the pleasure of a presence so lovely as yours, dear Evelyn?”

I could easily recall the first time I'd ever seen him. I had never been so jarred by someone's appearance. Last year, on a blistering June day, I was down by the river trying– and failing– to catch a fish big enough to feed our family of 5 for dinner. I would have even settled for multiple little fish, but I was having no such luck. Exasperatedly waiting for a fish to bite, cursing and sweating in unforgivable sun, I saw someone walking in the woods on the opposite side of the shore. At first I thought it Elijah, coming to relieve me of this impossible task. But when I saw the dappled sunlight reflecting off blonde hair instead of brown, my heart beat quickened. The moment this stranger strolled out of the woods and onto the river bank, I was awestruck. Never had I seen any person move with such grace and elegance. Never had I seen such glorious golden hair, such striking blue eyes. Never had I seen anyone so beautiful.

As he crossed the water, stepping on stones to make his way over, I wanted to run. From that very first moment, I knew there was something inexplicably dangerous about him – something that I should run far, far away from. But I didn’t. I stood there motionlessly, entranced by the handsome male making his way over the river.

When he reached my side of the river, he smiled at me in that seductive way of his and said, “Not having any luck, are we?”

“Not a bit.” I was truly surprised how calm and steady my voice came out.

“Do you mind if I give it a try?” He stepped nearer and my breath caught in my chest as I got a closer view of those intense eyes.

“Well I doubt you could be any worse than me.” I noticed him take note of how badly my hands shook as I extended the fishing rod toward him.

“I won't argue with you there.” He smirked. It was one sided and lazy but it made my core bloom with heat.

He took one cast with effortless grace, as if he had done it a million times, and not 2 seconds later was reeling it back in. He pulled the line from the water and attached to the hook was the biggest trout I had ever seen.

I squealed in delight while he wore a proud and pleased expression. “How did you manage to do that? I've been out here for hours and the only fish I caught were not enough to feed even one person.”

“Let's just say, I'm very talented.” He set the fish on a smooth flat rock, picked up my knife and quickly chopped its head off.

That sense of fear, sense of danger, came creeping back the moment I saw the blood shining bright and crimson on his pale, unmarred hands.

He then looked up at me and smiled in a way that told me he was nothing but trouble. “I'm Logan, by the way.”

Ever since that day, he kept coming back. Though nothing much had ever happened when he would come visit me; just a fair amount of in-depth conversations. He took time getting to know me, understanding how I lived, what I enjoyed doing and the like. There were times he would read to me. Poetry I would never come across in my lowly life of a farm girl. He would even beg me from time to time to let him paint my portrait.

He had taken up an unrequited, and quite frankly inappropriate, infatuation with me. He often referred to me as love or dear or my lovely little doe. There was something quite possessive in those words. His forwardness was vexing, even if, at the same time, it made my heart flutter. He was 23; I was only just 19. And although there truly weren't that many years between us, he seemed ages older. Far more mature, far wiser. More experienced. He dripped confidence and power and I was average and small. He was a witch and I was painfully mortal.

I hadn't found out just what he was until nearly half a year into our acquaintanceship.

Admittedly, there was a small part of me, so small it almost didn't exist, that wished our differences weren’t quite so drastic. Ashamedly, my body ached for him. Again, allow me to emphasize just how miniscule that part was. He might have been good to me – always pleasant, always polite – but that was where his goodness ended. Logan was a witch. Which could only mean he was nothing but danger. My parents had taught me that a witch couldn't be anything but. Their opinion wasn’t based on prejudice, it was based on facts – past grievances. Had I know from the first day what he was, I would have never humored him. Would have never spoke to him, got to know him, spent time with him. But I did not know and he had managed to worm his cunning way into my heart.

My brother, not enthralled by Logan's pleasantries, stood quickly and barked, "What do you want, Grimaldi?"

"My name is Logan." He was undaunted by my brother's impoliteness and gave an impish grin. "Although, you know that. Your sister certainly does."

"Did you come all this way to dote on my sister?" Elijah's jaw clenched in annoyance. "Because if so, I hate to tell you you've wasted your time."

I stood and Eva followed. I kept her in front of me and put a protective arm around her. Though I could trust he would be kind towards me, I could not say the same of my family.

Any time Logan had come to visit, there was never anyone else around. He'd never met my parents, nor my sister, and they were completely unware of his existence. Elijah, however, knew of, and despised Logan. Elijah had not spent time with Logan as much as I, but the times that he did – well, let us just say it was anything but pleasant. They shared none of the same interests or opinions. Logan never once tried to hide his interest in me and in doing so provoked Elijah into a protective ire.

"Normally, yes. But not today." His impish grin stretched wider. "I'm here for the other Caldwell sister."

Elijah took an instinctive, defensive step in front of me and Eva. "For what?"

"Elijah Caldwell you never were the brightest." Logan chuckled a disdainful laugh.

"Tell me what you want her for." Elijah's hands were balled into fists and I could tell he was struggling to restrain himself.

"Are we really going to play ignorant?" Logan's bemused attitude fell and he stepped closer towards the three of us. "It's not very becoming. Especially when you've already the disadvantage of being a mortal."

"Tell me." He hissed through gritted teeth.

Logan rolled his entrancing eyes and sighed defeated. "I'm here to collect the selected participant for the Hunt."

A shocked whimper escaped my lips and without thought, Elijah lunged forward. Just as expected, Logan effortlessly dodged his blow. Eva let out a small scream, although she had no idea what Logan was talking about.

Elijah tried again to hit Logan and he no longer felt the need to play passively. With a flick of his wrist he sent Elijah hurtling to the ground with a pained cry. I couldn’t understand why Elijah had even bothered—magic always beat out brute force. My brother was certainly a warrior and not a thinker.

Logan turned his attention back towards me and my sister. "Hand over the child, Evelyn. She has been chosen. Your family is bound by oath."

"She can't be," my voice trembled and my grip on Eva tightened. "She's only 7 years old. The witches have never taken a child so young."

"You have no business questioning the witches," he scolded.

Elijah still hadn't gotten up from his position in the grass. I was defenseless. Eva was. "Logan, please don't. Please. Leave her alone. Please, for me." I used the only weapon in my arsenal – his affection for me. I hoped I could use it to sway him.

His blue eyes bore into me – angry that I dared to try and manipulate him. "My fragile, little fawn. Do not make any attempts to divert me from my task. My feelings for you will not affect my actions nor the orders I've been given. She has been chosen."

There was no way in hell I was going to let him take my sweet, innocent little sister. Eva was only 7; she had hardly had time enough to live her life. If she were to be taken for the Hunt, there was no way in Heaven or earth she would survive.

"No." I stepped in front of my quivering sister and dared to get as close to Logan as I could without making physical contact. "You will not take her. You will take me in her stead."

If I thought Logan was angry before I had no idea what anger was till I beheld his expression after my words. His eyes burned bright with rage and his jaw clenched so tightly I thought the bones might pop out of his skin.

"I will not allow you to do any such thing." His words came out slow and controlled. "I did not go through such hell—" His words started to stray from their controlled manner. He cut his sentence short in order to regain composure.

I wasn’t going to give up so easily. "Didn't go through such hell to what?" I questioned.

"Nothing of your concern." His anger dissolved into sheer disappointment. He put a lithe hand on my freckled cheek. "Please don't do this. The Hunt is not something you'll likely survive. The women of your family would do anything to avoid being chosen. No one in the last century has ever volunteered. Not even to save one of their kin."

"Well, I guess there is a first time for everything." I removed his hand from my face even though something deep down in me screamed not to. "You will take me and leave Eva unharmed. And restore Elijah to consciousness."

If I thought it were possible for Logan to look sad, that's how I would've described his current expression. But Logan was capable of no feelings other than anger, lust and pride.

"Very well then, Evelyn. You will come with me." His words were a monotonic grumble.

I turned and gave Eva a hug so tight, I'm surprised she didn't break. I looked at her sad and confused, innocent face and placed a soft hand on her chubby, freckled cheek. “I love you. Always. No matter what.”

She didn’t speak, only stared up at my with tearful eyes. I gave her a quick kiss on the forehead then rose and turned to leave with Logan.

Many, many years ago the wolves used to roam this land freely. Killing whatever, whoever, whenever they liked. They were unchallenged by any foe, unmatched in strength. They were fearsome hunters, and even more gruesome rulers. However, as time went on, something happened that destroyed the wolves' rule. A coven of witches came from lands across the sea and demolished the wolves’ reign. The witches seized the power that the wolves held and soon ruled more mightily than the wolves ever had. The first order the witches gave banished the wolves from freely and openly killing any beings, mortal or otherwise, on their land. The wolves were allowed to hunt animals as regularly as they had before, but no harm was to come to any man – or witch – kind. Needless to say, the wolves were not very pleased with this new order, so, in an attempt to maintain peace between the wolves and the witches, the wolves were promised a Hunt – a human sacrifice, every 10 years. I could not say why, but it was my family who was selected to be the wolves' sacrifice. So, every 10 years, during an autumnal full moon a woman of the Caldwell family was chosen to be prey and a mighty warrior of the Faelen Pack was chosen to be the hunter. That is why Logan came for Eva and that is what I volunteered myself for.