by Naomi Clark
“You did it,” Devon whispered, grabbing her hand and squeezing it. “You’re amazing!”
Callie didn’t feel amazing. In fact, she was pretty sure she was going to throw up. Her knees knocked together when she stood, and her hands shook when she reached cautiously for Noah. She felt out of her depth and very young and naïve.
Holding her breath, she touched his shoulder.
He mumbled something, but didn’t stir.
“I think he’s unconscious,” Devon said, kneeling beside him to check his pulse.
“That might be for the best,” Callie said. She retrieved her quartz and brushed the dirt off it. “What do we do now?”
Devon sat down again, hugging her knees and staring up at the silent sky. “I have no idea. What do you think?”
“I think meditation is off the cards for now,” Callie said, trying for levity.
Devon looked surprised. “But it worked! Sort of, I mean. You got Noah to change and you helped him change back. Not to mention stopping him from attacking us. You were amazing.”
“But it was all an accident! I don’t know what I’m doing here, Devon. Not at all!” Callie threw her hands up, her fear and frustration threatening to turn into tears. “What if it hadn’t worked? Noah could be rampaging around the woods right now murdering baby bunnies. So could you, for that matter!”
Devon’s expression turned sober. She rose and offered Callie a hand up. Once they were standing, though, she kept hold of Callie’s hands. “Look, I’m not saying I’m thrilled about knowing it’s true. That I’m … you know.” Devon sighed and closed her eyes. “But if nothing else, you proved tonight that Noah isn’t just a mindless beast. There’s a way to control all of this. He responded to his name and your voice. Maybe the secret to being a good werewolf is just practice.”
She smiled hopefully and, to Callie’s surprise and delight, she kissed her.
It was sweet and far too quick, just a soft brush of her lips on Callie’s. But it rang through Callie’s whole body like a bell, that kiss, leaving her spirit singing in response.
“And if you’re willing to help me practice, I’m willing to try being a werewolf,” Devon said.
Well. Callie wasn’t going to refuse if it meant more kisses.
Chapter Nine
The next morning the three of them sat around Callie’s kitchen table, eating vegan banana muffins in oddly comfortable silence. Noah was more relaxed than Callie had yet seen him. His presence could easily have been grating, with her and Devon growing quietly closer, but she found she didn’t mind him being there. The three of them had been through something wild and unique together last night, and perhaps it was only natural that it forged a bond between them all.
“I knew what was happening last night,” he said suddenly, finishing his second muffin. “Not at first. There’s a gap between the start of the meditation and the change, but I knew I was a wolf. I knew what was going on around me. That’s never happened before.”
“If you knew that, why were you acting like you wanted to take a bite out of us?” Devon asked, not unkindly.
“It was like … I was in the back of my own head. The wolf was in the front. It wasn’t until Callie called my name that I could get back in front. Does that make sense?”
Callie nodded, picking absently at a muffin. “In Germany they thought that would actually cure lycanthropy. I guess this is the next best thing, though.”
“Do you think we can try it again?” Noah asked plaintively. “You have no idea what it’s like to have a glimmer of hope in all this. I thought I was cursed. Now… Now maybe I think I’m just … well, slightly less cursed.”
That didn’t sound entirely hopeful. Callie hesitated, unsure. The truth was, they’d all been blundering around in the dark last night, figuratively as well as literally. They were relying on guesses and old books, folklore and fables. If the German name-calling trick had failed, Devon and Callie could both have been seriously hurt—if not worse.
Devon and Noah both seemed to think that Callie knew what she was doing when really, she was just feeling her way through that darkness, barely a step or two ahead of them. On the one hand, she was scared that her lack of knowledge would get someone badly hurt. On the other hand, the name-calling had worked, and she had managed to change Noah back to human. That was certainly no small achievement.
And how could she abandon either of them now?
Aware they were both watching her expectantly, Callie forced a confident, breezy smile. “Of course we’ll try it again,” she said brightly. “We’re just getting started!”
****
Noah left after breakfast. Devon helped Callie clean up the kitchen. They worked in silence, but it wasn’t the easy quiet of earlier. There was a tension between them now, something vibrating with promise and uncertainty. The kiss from last night, as brief as it was, clung to Callie. It was summer ice cream and meeting a friendly dog and riding a rollercoaster all at once—exciting, energizing and spirit-lifting, and she had no idea if it would happen again.
“I need to find a way to thank you properly,” Devon said suddenly.
They were standing at the sink together, Callie washing up, Devon drying. Not quite close enough to touch, but close enough that Callie felt fluttery, happy, and nervous.
“For what?” she asked, a bit stupidly.
“Everything. I was just some crazy woman crying in the woods, and you’ve gone above and beyond to help me. It’s … humbling. And, well, attractive.” Devon swallowed, staring very hard at the mug she was drying. “And I want to thank you.”
Callie blushed. “I’m not doing it for a reward.”
“No, but still… Maybe we can go out for dinner together soon?” Devon met her eyes, smiling. “Maybe we can talk about something other than werewolves.”
Callie reached out with one soapy hand, then stopped herself before she dripped washing up water all over Devon. Grinning madly, she said, “I’d really like that.”
****
Normally Callie looked forward to the full moon. It was a potent magical time, a night for cleansing crystals, charging candles, and taking care of witchy house-keeping. But as October rolled into November and the moon began to grow from an invisible sliver to a fat ball, she found she suddenly had no time to think about anything except werewolves.
During the day, she ran her book store as usual and did her best to chat with customers and keep an eye out for estate sales or auctions for new stock. But her mind was always leaping to other, more immediate things. Devon, mostly. They hadn’t gone for dinner yet, but Devon had come over almost every night since their first near-disaster with Noah. They researched and talked and speculated and laughed, but that was all.
It wasn’t anybody’s fault. The closer they got to the full moon, the more preoccupied Devon was. It was clear that she was still afraid of what she might become, of what she seemed almost certain to become, and no amount of reading or meditation was going to reassure her.
Not even the progress Noah was making seemed to set Devon’s mind at rest. He was also over at Callie’s almost every night, insisting they trek out to the woods and practice the guided meditations. Callie had been reluctant after the first one, but she’d committed herself to helping him, and ultimately that would also help Devon, too. Hopefully.
And the truth was, it was helping him. He didn’t change into a wolf every time they meditated, but on the three occasions he had, he’d clearly been in control. There were no more near-attacks, no more threatening howling and growling. Noah-the-wolf would pad happily around the woods, exploring the undergrowth with his other form, as harmless as a puppy.
It was both miraculous and terrifying, and Callie spent those nights waiting anxiously for his mood to snap, or for him not to be able to change back. It was simply too massive a piece of magic for her to understand, that he was doing this, that she was helping him.
/> But it really was happening, and every time it happened, Noah seemed more confident, more at ease in his own skin.
Two nights before the full moon, the three of them were in the woods again. Bundled up against a bitter frost in thick scarves, hats, and gloves, Callie and Devon watched as Noah-the-wolf bounced around joyously, impervious to the biting cold. They sat together on the rim of the well, sharing a bag of yogurt-coated cranberries in silence. Just two girls with their dog, Callie thought.
It wasn’t that simple, of course. Devon watched the wolf with a mix of apprehension and sadness. Callie reached for her hand. With them both in gloves, they couldn’t really hold hands properly, but Devon smiled at the contact.
“It’ll be okay,” Callie said softly. “If Noah can make it work, you definitely can.”
“I hope so. I just can’t stop worrying. There are so many unknowns. What if I can’t make it work? What if I hurt you? What if I can’t take control the way Noah has. Some nights I dream that I change, but I can’t change back, and that’s it. My life is over. I’m a wolf forever.”
Her voice was bleak, her eyes unfocused, and she was shivering. Not from cold, Callie was sure. Callie kissed her cheek.
“That won’t happen,” she said firmly. “You’re brave and strong, and you’ve had the benefit of learning from Noah’s mistakes.”
“I hope so,” Devon said again, but she didn’t sound too hopeful.
Callie watched Noah chase something across the clearing and sighed. Now that she was used to him as a werewolf, it was impossible not to admire the beast he became. He was big and beautiful, with a thick, glossy coat and a deep, soulful howl. She could imagine Devon as a wolf all too easily, her dark hair becoming luxurious fur, all that strength and bravery making her a noble, powerful wolf. It was fanciful and silly thinking, surely. But Noah was in front of them, proof that this curse was not a fate worse than death. He was having fun, for goodness sake. Had any of them thought that was remotely possible when they all first met?
This was magic, after all. Tangible, touchable magic. How could she not be excited?
So, sure, Callie was being fanciful and romantic about it all. She’d never say any of that to Devon, not when Devon was so anxious about the looming full moon and what it might bring. But privately, Callie couldn’t help but be hopeful. And she was going to keep right on being hopeful as long as possible, and maybe, just maybe, she could help Devon be hopeful too.
****
The morning of the full moon dawned frosty and clear, the world outside Callie’s bedroom window glittering as if coated in fairy dust. She opened the window and leaned out, breathing in the promise of winter. The woods would be beautiful tonight, she thought, excitement and apprehension skipping through her.
She showered and dressed, putting on a homemade perfume of lilies and moonflower, both flowers with strong links to the moon. She put on a moonstone necklace, lit a silver candle and meditated briefly. It was important to remember that tonight was about Devon. Not Callie’s dreams and wishes, but Devon’s future. Callie stared into the dancing flame and schooled herself to calmness. All her focus tonight had to be on Devon’s feelings. Her life was about to change beyond the craziest imaginings, and Callie intended to help her however she could.
Feeling serene and charged with good intentions, Callie went downstairs to open the bookstore up. All her serenity melted like ice in a sunbeam when she saw Devon waiting outside. Her heart backflipped, that nervous excitement rushing back. She hurried to unlock the door.
“Devon! Is everything okay? I thought we weren’t meeting until six?”
Devon bit her lip, looking as nervous as Callie felt. “We were. We are. I mean, we can, but I wanted to see you first. Can I come in?”
Worried, Callie stepped aside. A hundred possible reasons for Devon’s appearance hit her brain all at once, making her head thump. She should probably have meditated for longer.
Devon leaned against the counter, arms folded. She was frowning slightly, as if she had to deliver bad news, and Callie’s stomach started flipping instead of her heart.
“We don’t really know what’s going to happen tonight,” Devon said, after a too-long pause. “I might not change. I might change and be a wild animal. I might hurt you. I just don’t know, and I wanted… Just in case, just so you know in case I can’t tell you later… I’m really glad I met you, Callie. I’m really grateful for your help and how relentlessly positive you are, and how willing you are to go along with whatever crazy thing lands in your lap. It’s made all of this so much more bearable, and I don’t think I could handle any of it without you.”
Callie gaped, feeling her face burn. “Well…”
“And I don’t want to handle it without you. Any of it. Anything. After tonight, whatever happens, I want you to be part of it. Part of my life.” Devon’s blue eyes blazed, her voice shaking just enough to tell Callie she was worried about Callie’s reaction.
“Devon.” Callie’s heart and stomach were both doing somersaults now. This woman, this brave, strong, magical woman wanted her, Callie McIntyre. It was somehow even more unbelievable than werewolves and curses.
“If you’re not sure—” Devon began, obviously misreading Callie’s dizzy silence.
Callie lunged forward, taking Devon’s face in her hands, and kissed her. And she poured her answer into the kiss. All the yeses, all the hopes and wishes and fantasies, everything she felt. Devon made a tiny sound of surprise, then slipped her arms around Callie, holding her close and tight.
They melted into each other, as easily as if they’d been kissing forever, bodies fitting together like a dream. Devon tasted delicious, like coffee and cinnamon, her lips both teasing and giving. Callie slid her hands from Devon’s face to wind around her neck, wondering if it was possible to make a kiss last forever.
When they did part, Devon kept hold of her, hands firm on Callie’s hips, and pressed her forehead to Callie’s. She was smiling, relief and a slightly smug satisfaction on her face.
“You make me believe everything’s going to be fine,” Devon whispered. “You just … make me believe.”
It occurred to Callie then that a kiss was a kind of spell, one to bind and please and promise, and she found herself smiling back.
Chapter Ten
The woods were indeed beautiful that night. The frost had lasted, and even though the night was bitterly cold, it was impossible to feel anything but joy. The trees and ferns glowed silver in the moonlight. Piles of dead leaves were painted ethereal blue by the frost. The sky was clear, the stars scattered across it like diamonds on dark velvet. The moon rode proud and high, the jewel in midnight’s crown. Callie wouldn’t have chosen to be anywhere else in the world tonight.
A tiny part of her wished Noah hadn’t come, that it was just her and Devon. But it made sense for him to be here. He was so much more comfortable with his wolf-side now, and if something did go wrong—if Devon turned violent, or had problems changing, or something they just hadn’t foreseen happened—he could be the difference between a bad night and a deadly night.
But Callie wasn’t letting herself dwell on the bad possibilities. She was pretty sure they’d prepared as well as they could, and since their kiss this morning, Devon seemed charged up and brimming with energy.
“I feel it,” she murmured to Callie as they reached the spruce clearing and the old well. “I feel the moon. It’s like I’ve had a couple of shots of vodka or something.”
Callie grinned. She was sure the way Devon felt the moon was very different to the way she did, but she liked knowing they had that bond. The hike to the well felt buoyed with optimism after that.
Noah was ahead of them, moving eagerly and confidently through the shadows, such a contrast to the man she’d first met.
Devon stayed at her side, her breath fogging in the cold air and mingling with Callie’s. Once again, their thick gloves meant they co
uldn’t hold hands, but every so often, Devon’s hand would brush hers, and Callie quickly realized the contact was deliberate. Her smile deepened.
By the time they reached the well, Devon was practically vibrating, unable to keep still. She stalked around the clearing, hugging herself, head lifted to the moon. A rich, palpable mix of fear and anticipation rolled off her.
“Calm down,” Noah said, with just a hint of condescension. “You’re getting yourself over-exerted.”
Devon’s head whipped in his direction, and she bared her teeth at him. “When did you become the expert?”
“Well, of the two of us—”
“Okay!” Callie cut in, falsely cheerful, dreading the thought of an argument breaking out. The situation was too volatile already, no matter how optimistic she might feel. “Devon, how do you want to do this? A guided meditation?”
Devon came to a standstill and closed her eyes. “That sounds good,” she said.
Callie quickly spread out the blanket she always brought with her now, letting Devon settle herself cross-legged on it.
Noah seemed unsure whether he should join her, but eventually took up position nearby, at the tree-line. He didn’t say anything, but Callie could guess his thoughts. If something went wrong for Devon, he would need to be close—but not close enough to get hurt.
Usually, Callie sat on the well for the meditations. But she saw doubt and worry flicker over Devon’s face when Noah placed himself so far away from her, and decided tonight things needed to be different. So instead, she sat down on the ground, a couple of feet away from Devon, and gave her a reassuring smile. It was a display of trust and faith she hoped she wouldn’t regret.
Devon smiled back, but it faded quickly as her gaze was dragged back, inevitably, to the moon overhead.
“Okay?” Callie asked her softly.
Devon drew something from her coat pocket, turning it nervously between her fingers. A piece of moonstone, Callie thought.
“Okay,” Devon said. “I’m ready.”
