Chapter 48: The Truth

Solaris grabbed the vampire’s wrist and stopped her sword from decapitating Duponte.

“This woman,” Solaris said very seriously, “Is not the same demon who has caused us all great strife.”

“You speak nonsense, old man!” the werewolf next to the vampire roared. His claws dripped with Duponte’s blood, staining the snow at his hind legs red. “Just because you do not have the strength to finish her does not mean I won’t.”

“Stand down,” Bruce said with a chill to his voice. He and Silvana ran over. Silvana knelt and observed Duponte’s wounds.

“They’re bad, but she’ll live,” she determined.

“This woman here is my family,” Solaris confirmed to the werewolf and vampire, who looked dubiously at one another. “Any ill intent has been removed from her because of these two talented,” Solaris paused for a moment, then addressed both Silvana and Bruce as he said, “children of mine.”

Bruce smirked, as he’d finally gotten the approval of the father of the woman he loved.

On the snowy floor, Duponte groaned and shifted a few inches. Silvana elevated Duponte’s head so the woman could better breathe.

“Amelia,” Silvana called out.

“I’m here,” Ameila responded at Silvana’s side. Amelia held out two glowing green hands and began to magically heal the wounds on Duponte’s back.

“I remember all of it,” Duponte muttered. Solaris wiped away the blood from her lip, and was in complete awe at how much she reminded him of his deceased wife. A new light started to shine deep in Solaris’s heart, and he felt warmed to be reunited with family once again.

“I remember it,” Duponte reiterated, tears welting her eyes. “I did those terrible things, and wasn’t in control of myself.”

This was no performance, and even the werewolf and vampire who had attacked her could decipher that.

“So what?” the female vampire said, setting her sword inside its silver sheath at her hip. “I am to believe that this woman is not the same monster who tried to slay us all?”

“I promise you,” Duponte said, wincing as Amelia ran healing hands across her back, “that was not me. It may have been my body and my likeness, but that’s all because of the sacrifice.”

“What sacrifice was this?” Bruce asked, glaring at the werewolf across from him who eventually stood down.

“The witches who killed me as part of their ritual so they might achieve a higher form,” Duponte said with a shiver.

She clutched her wrist and shut her eyes when she said, “I can still remember being tied to that altar, and those terrible men stabbing me with the pried teeth and fangs from werewolves they had dug from the ground.”

Duponte trembled and continued, “They told me I was the best option for the ritual because I was so pure and innocent. These men had captured me while I was baking for the children awaiting weekend lessons.”

“So then,” Solaris said, his joyous heart beating rapidly, “it would seem we have all been deceived into believing that you were a creature you were not.”

“The tales speak of the vicious Cecilia Duponte, the woman who hunted werewolves, wore their hides, enslaved and killed them for joy, and used forbidden magic to gain strength,” Bruce remarked.

Duponte glanced away, embarrassed. She winced again at the sting from Amelia’s healing.

“It’s sealing up well,” Amelia commented.

“Thank you so much,” Duponte said to her healer before addressing Bruce. “I regret to say that those are things the demon had done, but please understand that the demon was a product of the dark magic from the men in the ritual.”

“What happened to them?” Silvana asked.

“All zapped dead by that very crimson lightning that is now clearing.”

The storming skies subsided, and the air was crisp and clean and the sky was bright.

“Whatever happened during that ritual released something demonic,” Duponte said. “And I believe that the first time Solaris sealed it away, a part of it stuck with him, making him--”

“The grumpy, hobbling old man that raised me?” Silvana asked sarcastically, giving her father a smile.

The werewolf and vampire behind Duponte laughed, and they detected nothing but kindness and compassion from the woman who they had tried to slay.

“To use your words, yes,” Duponte chuckled, placing a hand on Solaris’s forearm before the chuckling vibrated her ribs and she hunched over in pain.

“Try and take it easy,” Amelia said softly.

Still, Duponte’s brief touch had soothed Solaris.

“I’m so very sorry for everything horrible that I’ve caused,” Duponte cried. Tears flowed down her angelic face.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Bruce said. “Silvana and I could tell that once we linked up.”

Solaris nodded and said, “You do realize, Bruce, that what saved this woman before us was the strength of your love for my daughter.”

Amelia snickered, “And the cheesiest-sentence-ever-spoken-award goes to--”

“Oh hush, Amelia,” Solaris laughed. “You know it to be true.”

Amelia finished healing Duponte and helped the woman to sit up.

“There are more injured out there,” Amelia said.

But a large group of bandaged and magically patched witches, werewolves, and vampires stood before her.

“We’re all okay,” one of them said. “While you all were fighting, we had a good leader by our side to help us clean our wounds.”

The crowd parted and Angus, using the blade of his sword as a cane, limped over, his long blonde hair swaying with each step.

Angus rubbed at his neck, cleared his throat, and gave Amelia a long, passionate kiss on the lips.

“I owe my life to you,” he told her with a wink.

“Well dinner would be a great way to repay me,” she smiled.

“I’m happy to cook for you,” Angus said, wrapping an arm around Amelia, “but you need to promise to not step in the cranberry sauce this time.”

Everybody who had fled the cabin laughed, and their laughter was infectious enough to make all the soldiers and battle-wounded smile.

“Oh,” Angus said, turning to Bruce but keeping Amelia close. “There’s one more thing.”

“Bruce,” Angus continued, reaching into the pocket of his torn and elaborate coat. “I found this by you after you’d been smacked silly across the skies and figured it might belong to you.”

Angus produced a tiny black felt jewelry box.

Bruce snickered and rubbed at his chin. Silvana’s heart stopped and everybody watched with wide eyes.

Bruce opened the box to reveal a wedding ring on a gold band that housed three large diamonds upon it.

“Silvana,” Bruce said, taking a knee. “Will you marry me?”