by Tamar Sloan
“Hey, pretty lady. We were hoping you would come this way,” says Snake, his smile getting bigger. His two comrades snigger. Chinless steps farther out to the side, while Fridge holds back a little, his rifle tapping his palm.
“What’s your name?”
I keep my head down as my eyes dart left, right. The men’s formation is wide enough to form a threatening semi-circle but close enough that there are no openings. A sense of claustrophobia closes in.
Snake shrugs. “It doesn’t really matter.”
He steps up, close. His dark eyes are calculating; his pale tongue flicks across his smiling bottom lip. My eyes settle on the top button of his army-colored shirt.
“Excuse me, I need to get back to my friends.” Yes, pretend there are others. Waiting for me.
“Friends?” Snake seems to think this is humorous.
“Yes. If you can just let me pass, I won’t bother you.”
“Well, sweetness.” He draws out the words, the final sound hissing along his pale lips. “I don’t think I can do that. You see, my friends are pretty upset that you ruined our shot.”
I consider denying it. I never said a word. But then anger shoots through my veins, settling in the fingertips clenched in my palms. “You were shooting in the park!” That proud animal did not deserve to be shot, unsuspecting, mid-hunt.
Snake’s smile dips a little as his eyes narrow, like the muscles can’t keep up the pretense.
Chinless steps up closer. “I like the way she smells.” He wipes his hand across his mouth.
“I like the way she sounds.” Fridge is bouncing on his toes, his rifle jiggling in his pudgy palms.
And I know I’m in danger. Desperate danger.
“I don’t want any trouble.”
Snake’s hand comes up with measured slowness, then picks a leaf from my shoulder, brushing my throat. I swallow; my nonexistent saliva does nothing for my dry mouth.
Snake’s eyes follow the pointless process, fastened on my neck. “Too late.”
Fear is peaking, pounding through my body. Spiking along nerve endings, tightening muscles, running in rivulets down my sides. I hope it’ll provide the strength and stamina I’ll need.
I’m going to make a run for it. Knowing it will be useless. Knowing they will catch me within seconds.
And horrible things are going to happen.
My weight eases back onto my left foot, ready.
The silence is ruptured by a powerful growling thundering through the clearing. The sound slams through me, reverberating among the trees. Snake’s head shoots up from where he was leaning over me. He looks behind me, the white around his dark eyes growing, multiplying exponentially.
I turn to see a giant wolf breach the trees and enter the clearing. Even larger than the last, this one is white. Snowy, blindingly white. Except for pink gums that gleam dangerously over razor-sharp teeth.
The wolf leaps toward us, fierce muscles coiling and releasing. Teeth snapping, it roars out its rage, head shaking with fury. I stand frozen, any thought of flight obliterated by shock. It slows and menacingly dips its head, ears flattening across his massive head, white muzzle corrugated to expose intimidating canines. It stalks forward, terrifying in its size, power, and ferocity. The three men stagger backward.
Leaving me in the middle of the path. Alone.
The wolf continues to walk forward. Powerful muscles bunch as it glides toward me. I’m rooted to the spot as it stalks closer and closer. It’s not physically possible for my eyes to go any wider. My heart to beat any faster.
The wolf is now beside me. He’s practically eye to eye, and I’ve never felt so small in my life. Intense blue eyes assess me from his white, furred face. His lips dip for a second, his head coming up a fraction. An almost familiar sense of connection reaches out to me.
The crunching of gravel captures the wolf’s attention, and we both turn to see Snake steadily walking backward, his hands patting the air in a conciliatory gesture. Once close to the tree line, he turns and runs. He doesn’t look back.
Fridge is the next to react. Sausage fingers grapple with his rifle, the muzzle rattling. He fumbles with the bolt. Before he can grasp it enough to hold, the wolf leaps forward, another terrifying roar filling the clearing. Fridge jumps, the rifle flying from his hands. He turns and flees.
Chinless is wobbling, from his concave face down to his army-issue boots, chanting incoherently under his breath. He spins on the spot, and promptly trips on his lanky legs. On all fours, his boots grapple for purchase as his torso strains to move forward. They finally grip and he stumbles after Fridge. Snake is long gone.
Silence descends amongst the trees.
It’s just me and the wolf. I stand in the center of the narrow trail, chest heaving. The wolf turns and his massive head slowly lifts. His whole body unwinds as he straightens; his teeth disappear as his face relaxes. His wild blue eyes connect with mine. There’s something about them that pulls at me. Without thinking, I take a step forward. This animal just saved my life.
The wolf’s eyes widen, and he takes a step backward. He’s scared of me? I consider humming, but sense it’s not needed right now. I pause. How do I tell him ‘thank you’? The wolf turns and walks toward the trees. He pauses, looking over his shoulder. His piercing blue eyes transfix me. Then he turns and leaps, disappearing into the dim shade.
Disappears just like his black counterpart.
Except this time I’m not willing to let him go. I leap into action and sprint forward after him, a renewed burst of energy pumping through my veins. I don’t know what I’m going to do if I find him, but I can’t just let him disappear again.
I break through the trees and come to a skidding halt. Not far within the forest edge I see him, glowing white in the dappled shade. Surprisingly, he hasn’t gotten far. I frown when I see his back haunches sink to the ground. He was hurt? But the hunters never got near him. I stand, torn. I want to help, but even I’m not stupid enough to approach an injured wild animal. Particularly a mutant-sized one.
His front legs give out and he sinks to the ground. Without a second thought, I rush forward. And stop.
Because the great beast is changing. Altering. Shrinking. He writhes and arches; an anguished sound begins as a growl and ends as a groan. Muscles tremble as they tear and reform, bones morph and realign, fur converts to skin. A final shimmer of light, a flash of naked skin…
And a fully dressed Noah lies before me.
14
Noah
The first thing I register is how much my exhausted body aches, from throbbing limbs that refuse to move, to burning eyelids that are too heavy to lift. Have I been hit by a car? It feels more like a semi-trailer. Scents trickle into my consciousness: conifers above me, the earth beneath me, and wildflowers beside me. The twigs digging into my back are the final piece of evidence telling me that I’m lying on the forest floor. What in the heck just happened?
My mind tries to process what, where, why… I remember going for a drive to get a burger, to try and silence my constantly rumbling stomach. When I was hit with that same gut-clenching fear from before. This time I didn’t question it. With white-knuckled force I swerved the truck around and drove blindly, guided by instinct.
I’d ended up at the ranger’s station. Without another thought, I leapt out of the car and into the forest. And ran, desperately hoping I could get to wherever I was going in time.
I remember stumbling, slowing as intense pain constricted my chest, my back arching, my torso twisting in agony. It felt like my heart was swelling, like everything within me was rearranging. I regained my balance, knowing I couldn’t stop. I had to get to her.
Another stumble, as I felt like my bones were breaking. The torment of grinding and crunching screamed through my body, the sounds of cracking and snapping crashing across my eardrums. And, in what felt like slow mo, I pitched forward as dislocated joints gave out.
My hands shot out to break my fall.
B
y the time they hit the ground, limbs and joints had painfully reformed. And it was four paws that regained the frantic forward momentum.
New sensations were hitting me all at once: the feel of the wind coursing through fur; the sensation of fangs resting on gums; the strength of claws gripping the soil as I was propelled forward faster and faster.
Keener senses than I’ve ever imagined assailed me. I maneuver around obstacles as reflexes instantly react, leap, deflect. Scents assaulted me: resinous pine, mossy bark, a rotting log. I could hear the wind coursing past me, birds calling in alarm, prey scampering away.
But I didn’t have time to understand or grasp the significance. All that consumed me was the ice-cold fear that was not my own. I powered through the forest, one word chanting through my mind.
Eden.
I remember seeing those three scumbags surrounding her, that slimy guy’s hand touching her. Ice-cold fear was replaced with the fiery blaze of anger. The animal I am wanted to rip them apart. To sink teeth into fleshy stomachs, stomp on sunken faces. To claw off creepy grins. But I held back, because of Eden…she was so scared.
I remember them running away. Cowards.
And I remember Eden’s wide-eyed shock. Her standing deathly still in the middle of the trail. But the feeling of fear had gone. There was no trace in her tilted eyes. No frozen fingers gripping my altered insides.
And then she took a step forward.
But I didn’t feel steady anymore. I remember knowing I had to get away. Things were shifting again. Changing. I ran into the forest. I don’t think my unsteady paws got me very far.
Then I remember more pain. As once again bones rearranged, muscle and ligaments realigned, and hair receded. Although this change felt quicker, as my body returned to its familiar form.
“Noah?” I don’t think any more shock, confusion, or astonishment could be injected into one word.
And I register. I shifted! For that period of time when those lowlife’s were threatening Eden, I was a wolf. A wolf!
“Noah?” Eden’s voice picks up a notch, sounding panicky. I hear her move, and the scent of wildflowers sprinkles down on me.
I groan as I cautiously open my eyes. Through the narrowed slits, I see a world that looks less sharp, less defined. Ah, the loss of wolf senses.
Eden lets out a breath, and it puffs across my cheeks. I turn my head slowly. She’s crouching besides me, a cautious hand stretched out, but not touching.
“Are you okay?”
Despite feeling like Thor dropped his hammer on my face, a train has rammed through my body, and a hurricane has reorganized my brains, I grin. I shifted!
“Never better.”
She looks at me like I’ve lost something vital. Like my mind.
“I shifted!” As if saying it out loud makes this more real. Just as real as the pain tingling along my nerve endings, as the petrified faces of those men, as the pale face next to me.
“But how…?”
I sit up, and Eden falls back with a soft thump. Like her legs have given out.
“I don’t know. I was running here, the next thing I know—bam!”
“I mean, how is this possible?”
And through my euphoric haze I realize Eden is assimilating far more than me. Although I never thought this was possible, at least I knew Werewolves existed.
“I think I need to explain a few things.”
Eden’s eyebrows shoot up. Okay, understatement.
I take a deep breath, and say the words I’ve never said to anyone before, forbidden words. “My family are Werewolves.”
“You’re a Werewolf?”
“Well, I wasn’t until about half an hour ago.”
Eden pulls farther back, her brow furrowing. And I realize what the catalyst was.
“Until I met you.” Eden instantly begins shaking her head. I start explaining, fast.
“My family are all Werewolves, my dad is Alpha. Mitch shifted at 16, like we’re meant to. Like all Werewolves do.” I swallow. “I didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“No one knows. It’s never happened before.” I move forward to rest my wrists on my knees. “I’m an anomaly.”
Eden sits still, watching me. Most likely wondering how much to believe. I’d be skeptical too, unless I’d seen a massive white wolf change into me.
Her eyes widen. “Mitch is the black wolf. The one that rescued me.”
I nod slowly, seeing how much she will figure out.
“And Tara, she’s one too?”
I nod again, smiling. “Yep. Both our families. Everyone except me. But you were the reason I changed.”
Eden is still again, wide-eyed.
“It was you in danger that triggered it.”
Eden is back to shaking her head, now with more energy. “No, it’s not possible.”
This time I go silent.
“I don’t believe you.”
“You can believe Werewolves exist, but not this?” I wave my hand to encompass the two of us.
Eden’s head dips, her hands twisting in her lap. “So, you’ve never changed before?”
I roll with the fact she’s ignored my statement. “Nope.”
“How do you feel?”
“Like I just got taken down by Godzilla. Totally amazing.”
She nods, gaze back in her lap. “We’d better get you back.” Her eyes settle on the rifles, two abandoned by the rock, one lying on the ground.
“I’ll take those to my dad. He can dispose of them.”
We both stand. But there’s one thing I want Eden to understand before we leave. To believe.
“Wait.”
She stands still; I step closer.
“It was you, Eden.”
Her hands come up to cover her face. I close the last of the distance between us. Peel back the hands that try to create a barrier. My hands stay to frame her face.
Her eyes lift to mine. They are wide open, so vulnerable.
“It was you.”
She takes a shaky breath. “Noah, you are the one person that can hurt me the most.”
I stroke one thumb across her soft cheek. “I’m the one person you can trust to keep you safe.”
She looks at me for long moments, eyes searching mine. I remain there, just as still, just as vulnerable.
“I don’t know how to do this.”
“Let’s figure it out together.”
Her head, resting in my palms, slowly nods her agreement. Her hands slowly, ever so slowly, creep up to rest on my chest. Her warm, soft palm cups the mark I spent the past two years believing was a farce.
A beautiful smile spreads across her beautiful face. I feel my lips tip up in response.
Actually, a grin splits my face with such ferocity that I doubt it will ever be the same again.
15
Eden
I wake to a wet nose nuzzling my face. I smile, stretching out a hand to ruffle Caesar’s fur.
“Need to go out, huh, boy?” Caesar’s tail thumps the bed, and the nuzzling intensifies. “Okay, okay.” I pull back the covers, swinging my feet onto the heated floor.
And it hits me.
Noah…is…a…Werewolf.
By the time I’d arrived home yesterday, it had been late afternoon. I’d climbed into bed, drained and done. Despite a mind full of images that defied belief, I must have fallen into an exhausted sleep.
Now, under the light of a new day, I try to process it all. I feel shell-shocked. Like someone has detonated an explosive, disintegrating the world as I know it. I’m left standing with thoughts fragmented, beliefs demolished, and emotions tangled.
I blink at the floor. The world I thought I knew no longer exists. Gone. Kaput. Creatures that I thought belonged in the realm of fiction are undeniably real. They are huge, fearsome, intimidating and…friendly and welcoming and warm. I bring my fingers to my temples, pressing in as my mind struggles to accommodate the evolution, the confusing contradictions, the implications…
Caesar barks, jolting me from my stunned musings. “Sorry, boy.” We pad to the back door and he disappears into the trees. I cross my arms as I stand in the doorway, the early morning light making the mist glow.
For all intents and purposes, just another day.
But everything is different.
Noah is a Werewolf.
And I said I would give this thing between us a chance.
And I thought this was scary before. The one and only boy who I’ve felt attracted to. Who moves me in ways I didn’t know possible. Who transformed only when I was in danger. Is the one who asked me to take the leap of faith…and I agreed.
I breathe in the morning air. It smells of conifers, the brisk morning fog, and something else. Possibilities? Promise?
Caesar comes bounding back, exhilarated by the cool air. I squat down to bury my face in his neck, wondering what this new world will hold for me.
I suppose there’s only one way to find out.
I shower, put my hair up, and pack my bag. My stomach grumbles, grouching about its missed dinner. I throw some cereal in a bowl and gulp it down. I’m rinsing my bowl in the sink when my mother walks in, pulling on her suit jacket as she enters. The matching pinstriped slacks flare above her spiked heels. She must have a big meeting today.
She pauses mid-stretch, one hand slowing its travel down the sleeve. “Off to school already?”
I turn back to the sink, stacking the bowl in the dish drainer. “Yes.”
“Since when did you get to school early?”
I shrug, drying my hands on the towel hanging next to the oven.
“Anything in particular happening?”
“Not really.”
“I can’t remember you ever getting to school early.”
I return the towel to its hook, carefully arranging the folds.
“Unless there was something happening.” I turn to find her grey eyes watching me.
I shrug again, and start heading to my room. “I have a presentation I need to work on.”
When she doesn’t answer, I look over my shoulder. She’s adjusting her jacket, tugging on the lapels so it sits just right. Her eyes narrow a little. “Okay.”
