Shades of Werewolf

by T. S. Ryder

  His head swiveled, and his eyes locked on a sheep lying next to the fireplace. Its little lamb stood next to its head, still slick from being born, and it 'baaed' as its mother licked it. Towels were nested around the mother and lamb, stained from birthing fluids. A pile of books was scattered over the table.

  "I'm sorry," Mary said.

  He turned back to her and saw tears running down her face. Her lip wobbled as she held the roaster pan. Some black mass was inside it.

  Mary set the pan down, and a sob shook her shoulders. "I'm sorry."

  Andre found himself laughing. It was all so surreal. Mary's perfect homemaking skills failing so dramatically reminded him that life was messy and complicated, but somehow everything that was in this room, from the bedclothes getting saturated with smoke to the sheep that would have been just fine in the barn, to Mary staring at him as though he had lost his mind, everything was far more perfect than he could imagine.

  "Andre?" She cautiously touched his shoulder.

  He didn't know why he did it, but he suddenly wanted to kiss her, and so he did. She was warm in his arms, her voluminous body pressed against his, so soft, so real. His hands tangled into her beautiful black hair, and her arms wound around his chest. Heat rose in him, a spark forming between their lips as she closed her eyes and melted against him.

  ***

  Every inch of skin that touched him exploded with fireworks. Mary pressed herself deeper into Andre's embrace. She had given up her dream that anybody would ever hold like this, arms around her so tightly as though he would never let her go. And yet here she was, in the arms of a man who was more beautiful than she ever hoped in her wildest dreams. Her whole body seemed to glow as his mouth pressed her lips open. Tongues danced. She clung to him, feeling her Wolf howling in delight, her chest so full she thought she might burst.

  Abruptly he pulled away.

  Mary blinked, reeling, as Andre backed away from her. She panted, not understanding what had happened. For a moment she thought she had imagined it all; the kiss, the passion.

  Andre shook his head. "You can sleep by the fire tonight. I need a better sleep so I can hunt properly tomorrow."

  He yanked the nearest blanket off the clothesline and stalked into the bedroom, closing it with a solid thump. Mary stood in the smoky room, the chill of winter slowly replacing the warmth of the fire. She hurried to the door and closed it before she sagged against the wall. A trembling hand pressed to her lips, her head light and dizzy.

  What happened?

  Chapter Five

  Even if she had the softest mattress in the world, Mary would not have slept well that night. It wasn't the ewe, that seemed to take forever to settle down, or the little lamb, who woke Mary up every few hours butting her in the head. It wasn't the hard floor biting into her hips and leaving her shoulders stiff and achy. It wasn't even the lingering smoke, which made her end up coughing for several hours before it dissipated.

  It was the kiss.

  She had been kissed before. When she was sixteen, she had been courted by a human from town. He had pressed his mouth to hers before he and his family moved away. But that kiss, though he had held her in his arms and tentatively ran his tongue over her lips, had none of the fire, none of the spark, which was in the kiss she had shared with Andre the previous night.

  The way her blood surged and her wolf sung… She knew what that meant.

  "I hope you were warm enough," she said the next morning when he emerged from his room.

  "I was fine. Were you comfortable?"

  "Comfortable enough." Her lips pressed closed. She knew what she wanted to say, but didn't know how to say it. "So you're going to hunt?"

  The fake cheerfulness in her voice was enough to make her wince. Andre graciously pretended not to notice anything untoward, however. He muttered something that sounded like a confirmation and walked over to the ewe. Mary watched him pet the sheep's head as she filled a bowl with cream-of-wheat cereal.

  He was gentle with the little lamb as he checked it over. His giant hands could have crushed the tiny thing in an instant, but instead, they ran lightly over its back and along its legs. It cried as he picked it up, kicking slightly, and Andre chuckled, murmuring comforting words. The ewe looked unconcerned.

  "A fine little ram," Andre announced. He smiled broadly, making the bass clef scar on his cheek pinch together like a second smile. "But what possessed you to bring them into the house?"

  Heat flared in her face. "It was so cold out there."

  "Then you should have turned up the heat."

  Mary rolled her eyes at that. "Yes, I'll just dial up the sun."

  "There is an electric heater in the barn."

  "Oh." She hadn't seen any electric heater. But then, she didn't look for one. "I didn't know."

  "It's fine. I think the little guy is pretty happy in here. I'll help you clean up after I've got them settled out there."

  "Have some breakfast first," Mary said quickly, pushing the bowl of hot cereal towards him. She had to say this quickly, or she was going to lose her nerve! But how to start? "Do Bears mate for life?"

  His head jerked towards her, and something flashed in his black eyes, as though she had said something wrong. She stared back, holding her breath. Andre studied her for a moment and moved to the table. He sat with a grunt and stared into his bowl.

  "We are as monogamous as humans. Different Bears have different ways of displaying their affection. Some of us find only one mate and stay with them for life, some find new mates if theirs die or leave them, others never do."

  "But do you have soulmates?" Mary pressed, clutching the back of a chair.

  "Soulmates?"

  "Wolves have soulmates. My grandmother told me when I was a child. For every Wolf, there is one partner, one mate that completes their soul. When they meet, their souls knit together. They are never whole without one another."

  Andre's face was blank, and then his lips curved upwards. "That sounds very fantastical to me."

  "But it's true," Mary insisted. Her heart pounded in her ears, and the words tripped over one another as she tried to get them out. "When a Wolf meets their soulmate, they know. They just know."

  Andre looked away and shook his head. "It's just a story that Wolves use to control their children. Your grandmother told you about soulmates so that you wouldn't mate with just anybody. It's just a myth."

  Her hands began to shake. "But it's true."

  You're my soulmate. It's why I trusted you when you brought me here, even though you are a Bear. It's why I knew you wouldn't hurt me. It's why I want to stay! Let me stay. The fire between them with that kiss only served to solidify her surety. She had found her soulmate, and if she left him, she would never be whole again.

  "You think it's because of the kiss," he said softly. He stood, and she stared up into his black eyes, hoping to see some flicker in them that told her he felt the same way. "You think because you felt like you were leaving your body, that you felt closer to me than anyone before, that it means we are soulmates?"

  Her breath caught in her chest. He felt it too! He knew.

  "My soul sings when I'm near you."

  She raised her face to him as his giant hands closely wrapped around her hair, bringing her closer to him. Their lips pressed, opened. Her soul called to him. Mary closed her eyes, feeling that irresistible pull towards him, her body aching to be joined forever with his. A feeling of euphoria, of completeness, filled her.

  And as abruptly as he had pulled away the previous night, Andre did it again. Mary leaned against a chair, panting, as the Bear backed away, shaking his head.

  "It's not real, Mary," he said in a low voice. "What you are feeling. It's nothing more than physical desire. You do not know what it is like between a man and a woman, and you were raised to believe that men desired women, but women had no desires of their own."

  "That's not true." She shook her head in protest. "I was taught about physical desire."

  "
But have you experienced it?"

  "Yes. Many times. I courted a young man when I was sixteen, and I imagined what it would be like—"

  Andre shook his head. "Imaginings is not like the real thing. I'm sorry, Mary. You have been lied to your whole life. I am not your soulmate. Soulmates do not exist."

  ***

  Her look of devastation was like a knife to his heart. He wanted to gather her into his arms and wipe away the tears that glimmered in her eyes. But she had to know. It was kinder this way, to tell her everything she was raised to aspire to was worthless in the real world, that she could not hope for one single being to complete her.

  "Mary," he started, but she looked away, and he couldn't continue.

  His limbs were heavy as he gathered up the ewe and lamb. As he left the cabin, he heard a repressed sob.

  It's a ridiculous notion, he told himself.

  Unbidden a voice whispered in his mind. Then why do you want to tell her everything about Isadore and Eve, even though she is a werewolf?

  He shook his head, trying to deny it, but it was true. He hardly knew her, and yet he wanted to share his greatest pain with her. The thought of her leaving physically hurt. Listening to her speak about her life made anger simmer in his gut. But more than that, whenever he looked into her eyes, he wanted to give himself to her. Not just his body, as delightful as he knew that would be. He wanted to share his life, his future… his past.

  In the barn, he turned up the electric heater and put the ewe and little lamb in their own paddock, away from the other animals. The gentle chill stroked his arms, allowing him to think clearly. And for the first time, he admitted it to himself.

  He wanted to tell Mary about his wife and daughter. He wanted to give her his pain, his anger, his hate. But if he did that, she would turn away. She wouldn't look at him with those trusting, beautiful eyes. She would want to leave.

  Then tell her, a small part of him said. Tell her and make her go. You're no good for her! She deserves a chance to find her soulmate.

  An anguished groan fell from his lips. It was the right thing to do – the only thing to do! He had to let her go. The roads were clear, he could take her to the city, put her on the plane and never see her again. He could focus on the reason he came back here, his only reason for living.

  Moving sluggishly, Andre went behind the pile of hay bales stacked beside the sheep pen. His muscles stretched and bulged as he tore down the wall, revealing half a dozen TV screens nestled into a hollow in the bales. Each one was connected to a network of motion-activated cameras he had spread throughout the woods, and right in the middle was the one he dedicated to spying on the Wolf community–the Locke farm particularly.

  Yes–he had to take her to the city, remove her from this situation before he made his move. Before he killed her father.

  ***

  If her heart wasn't breaking, Mary might have been humiliated by how utterly Andre rejected her. But it hurt too much, and even as she cleaned up the house, tears poured down her face. She knew that her soul belonged to him, but if he didn't even believe in soulmates… it had never occurred to her that she might not be her soulmate's soulmate. Was she destined never to be happy?

  She would ask to leave again at the earliest opportunity. She couldn't stay here any longer. It would just be too painful. It was time for her to leave, to figure out her next move. What was her next move?

  Her Wolf howled as she washed the dishes, as if telling her to dry her eyes and go to him. The urge to run into his arms was almost too much to take, but she would not put him in a position where he would have to reject her again. And maybe she was wrong, and he was right. Maybe it was just physical, and their souls were not meant to be knit.

  After she made the bed, her tears dried and she resigned herself to leaving Andre forever. Staying in the cabin seemed too constricting, and so she went to the barn. Andre was there, milking the goat. His eyes were distant, and when he saw her, his tanned cheeks darkened in color. The clef-shaped scar stood out even more.

  "I think it's time that I leave." The words were harder to get out than she expected. She couldn't continue.

  Andre froze a moment, then shook his head. "You can't. Not yet. Your car is a piece of junk. You wouldn't get to the highway. And my truck… it won't start. I think it's the alternator."

  Was it just her imagination, or was he speaking too quickly? Was there desperation to his movements as he finished milking the goat?

  "Then point me in the right direction and I'll walk. I can't stay. Not when…" Not when I love you, but you don't love me.

  He untied the goat and put the bucket of milk on the other side of the fence, then easily swung himself over. He was close to Mary now, so close that she could smell the soap she had used to clean his shirt. He sucked in a deep breath.

  "Mary, it's just not safe."

  "I don't care. I have to go!"

  He cut her off, kissing her hard. She reacted instantly, wrapping her arms around him, pressing onto her toes to bring her mouth closer to his. Her Wolf sang, and she thought somewhere in her brain she heard an echo of it. But no. It couldn't be. She turned her head, breaking the kiss.

  "Why must you torture me like this?" she whimpered.

  "I don't want to torture you." Tears glimmered on his cheeks. "Mary, I don't want to hurt you. But I can't give you what you need. I can't give you my life."

  "Then don't." She pressed herself against him, holding him tighter. "Just give me today. Give me tonight."

  He groaned, as if fighting himself, and lowered his mouth to hers again.

  Chapter Six

  Andre woke with the familiar warmth of Mary against him. Today I take her to the city, he told himself, stroking her silky hair, as he had every morning for the past three months.

  Three months. He knew it was wrong for her to stay. She wanted a soulmate, someone who would stay by her side for the rest of time. And she deserved such a man. A man who put her first in everything, the way she would put him first in everything. Andre couldn't give her the love she deserved. There was too much anger in his heart.

  And yet the thought of taking her to the city, watching her get on an airplane and never seeing her again… it hurt. So he held on, even though every logical, rational thought screamed at him to let go.

  Mary stirred, and Andre grew still, not wanting to disturb her. Her eyes fluttered open, and her rosebud mouth, so deliciously kissable, curled into the happy, sleepy smile that it always went to she woke up in the morning. It never failed to elicit a smile in response. She rolled onto her stomach, resting her chin on his chest.

  "How did you sleep?" she asked.

  Andre shrugged. "Okay, I guess. I had a dream."

  "I love your dreams." Her eyes brightened. "What was it this time?"

  His fingers ran down her spine under the blankets. It was a warmer morning than it had been, but still chilly. One of the things he loved most about waking up next to Mary was that she always pressed so tightly against him. She got cold easily, but would rather snuggle closer to him than get out of bed and dress. A curl of her hair was stuck to her cheek. He smoothed it back and kissed her forehead.

  You asked for a day and a night, he thought, I have given you three months. Now you have to leave before it’s too late for both of us.

  "Well? What did you dream?"

  "I dreamt that I set the cabin on fire, and you were still in it," he said. If she would fear him, even a little bit, it would be easier to strip himself away from her.

  Her brow puckered. "That's horrible. I'm sorry."

  "Of course you would apologize for me having a dream where I killed you." Andre couldn't help but laugh. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. She welcomed him eagerly, hands roaming his torso. A light moan escaped her throat, and she broke the kiss, moving her mouth to his chest. Each kiss felt like a burst of sunshine, and Andre stroked her raven hair as she made her way up to the hollow of his throat, moving her hand lower.

&
nbsp; "I have to go take care of the animals," he said reluctantly.

  She moaned again, in disappointment this time, and moved onto her back. Her lower lip pushed out into a delicious pout, and he had to take it between his teeth and suck gently as he rolled over her. Her green eyes glinted mischievously as she wrapped her arms and legs around him.

  "Now you can't get away," she said. "You're my prisoner. You must do as I say."

  "Yes, mistress." Andre tasted the sweet skin on her neck. "Except I have to go take care of the animals."

  He reluctantly pulled himself from her embrace. As he lifted the blankets, she shivered violently and yanked them back around her, wrapping herself in the blankets until only her nose poked out. The pile shook like a shorn lamb.

  "I'll keep the bed warm for you," she said, her voice muffled by the blankets.

  Andre laughed, heart lightening. Perhaps she should stay for a few more weeks until he was certain the snow would be over. He didn't want her to be stranded in an airport for hours on end or have it canceled altogether, after all. That would hardly be fair.

  The longer she stays, the more it will hurt when she leaves, he told himself, for you and her both.

  But then, maybe she didn't have to leave.

  The goat was already standing by the milking post when he entered. Its udder bulged beneath it, and it turned a baleful, reproaching look on him. The sheep all rushed to the edge of their pen, looking for their feed. The little lamb that had been born three months ago had grown quickly and was a fine, strong young ram. Andre had put him and his mother with the others again just the day previous.

  After he had carried out his chores, he checked his surveillance. The instant he saw the screens, his heart froze. The cameras closest to his cabin had been tripped. Wolves. Their black coats distinctive against the white snow, they slithered over the land like shadows. One, a big one with green eyes and a skiff of white on his muzzle, looked directly at the camera.

  The feed cut out. Blood roared in Andre's ears. Locke. He'd found out about the Bear. Now the Wolves were on their way.