She-Wolf I

by Gaëlle Bonnassieux

  Crying-time was over.

  I carefully crawled out of our giant bed, trying not to wake everyone else. Milo moved, opened his eyes and tried to prevent me from going. I kissed his forehead reassuringly, and he went back to sleep. Bridget smiled, amused. She wasn’t sleeping. She’d told me a while back that vampires didn’t sleep much, and that even though she loved to wonder in the land of dreams, she had trouble falling asleep. Therefore, she passed the time hunting, going shopping, partying… It didn’t matter, as long as she kept herself busy. She was now looking at painting samples, and she seemed particularly drawn to the yellows, and apparently, she was trying to decide which was better: amber? Lemon? Sunshine? I missed my canary car… I waved and didn’t bother raising her naughty smile.

  I stepped over the sound asleep bodies of my friends and headed for the kitchen. I wasn’t angry, quite the opposite, actually — my stomach was having a party, and was asking me to throw up that slice of pizza I had yesterday, which was actually the only thing I’d eaten in three days. I was thirsty though, and since I fancied coffee, I made some. The smell filled the room, and it made me realize that I’d missed it. I took a sip of it, and I felt better. A little bit better.

  I was on the road to acceptance.

  Rage was still harassing my soul, and I knew it wouldn’t leave until I’d killed Ryan with my bare hands. I was going to have to learn to live with it. But I wasn’t worried about it though. Rage would always help me focus, fight, and live. Sadness would always hurt, but I could channel it. I was slowing processing everything, and it was hard. I couldn’t simply snap and get it over with. But I would be alright. I had to get it together, I had to do something, to keep myself busy too. I couldn’t just keep going like that, crying and waiting for death. Yes, it hurt. Yes, it was hard. But that was life.

  And I was suddenly determined to breathe new life into… well, my life.

  I finished my cup of coffee, thinking a lot. And in order to stop thinking, I did the dishes of the previous day. My hands into the hot water scrubbed the plates, the forks and the knives, so violently that it felt as if I could just make some rage and sadness go down the drain with the dirty water. Once that was done, I went to the attic. The others were starting to wake up, I could hear them talking. I took my time to choose what I’d wear today. I wanted to gussy myself up, maybe it would take my mind off all the things I needed to do — find Johan, convince him to come back, prepare my grandma’s funeral, welcome Danny into the pack properly, even Bridget, if she’d made her decision, and most of all, revenge. There was so much to do I felt woozy.

  I went to the bathroom to shower. There was a slight apprehension in my chest once I was naked and alone in the stall, but I pushed it away. I was a big girl and showering alone wasn’t so scary anymore. Ryan-the-dickhead either. He could just come here if he wanted to, he’d receive a warm welcome. I imagined the moment when I’d get to rip out his petty heart, or when I’d scratch his eyes right out, or when I’d break every bone of his body, slowly… I could picture a hundred ways to kill him, and each one was more joyous than the other. Water was caressing my skin and steam filled the room.

  In the end, this tragedy had had some good in it: I wasn’t afraid anymore.

  I did a hair mask. I shaved, even though I didn’t really need nor wanted to. I put on a slinky black dress — it brought out my lady shapes quite nicely without being too vulgar. It was very becoming. But when I looked in the mirror, I realized my grandma wouldn’t have wanted me to wear black. And so I took the dress off, which was only reminding me of mourning, and I put on a light-blue one, which was her favorite color. That was more like it.

  Once it was dry, I braided my curly hair. Then, I put on some foundation and concealer, as well as some blush on my cheekbones. I put on eyeshadow as well, and I chose a golden color which brought out my eyes beautifully, both the hazelnut tone of the right one, and the toffee color of the left one. I finished this work of art, this fake painting, with lip-gloss.

  All of this took forever, but at least while I was arraying myself with bright colors, I wasn’t thinking, and it felt good. The make-up felt wrong, like a burden, like a mask concealing my deepest emotions, the mask I’d worn for years in my former pack. I wanted to wipe everything off, but I remembered that my grandma often complimented my makeup, and so I kept on these layers of lies that were choking me. Or maybe my thoughts were? I needed something else to do.

  In the living-room, Danny was getting used to the others’ presence. He was eating which was a good thing because he’d have to eat a lot to gain back the weight he’d lost and not to be taken away by the first gale. His damaged face was healing, and in a couple hours, it would all be just a bad memory. He smiled when he saw me passing through the hallway, and I smiled too — even though it was quite hard — before leaving the house. No one stopped me or asked me painful questions. It was crystal clear: I needed to find that soulmate of mine. A little birdie had been telling me that he wasn't far.

  But no matter what, I was going to find him wherever he was, and whether he wanted to be found or not. After a couple slaps, he’d recover his senses, and everything would go back to normal.

  I was suddenly struck by an idea, and I headed towards the woods. I suddenly shivered, horrified when I remembered seeing Bridget there, with my grandma’s broken body in her arms. I could see myself running towards them, and everything that had followed that moment came to mind, and I felt nauseous.

  I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath not to lose it. I walked into the woods and remembered how much my grandma loved them. She did love to run and zigzag to avoid the trees. Her grey fur made her look like a ghost, surrounded by the green of the leaves and the brown of the bark. But she’d never run again…

  But I could run. And so I did, as an homage. Sometimes you don’t realize how lucky you are to live and to find happiness in the little things. But when you do realize it, it often is too late. Now, it was too late for us. How I would have loved to run with her. To discover the world, to have a house of our own, more happy memories. I had to work with what I had.

  This little run was invigorating. It loosened my sore muscles, which had been numb with pain. Moving helped me move on — pun intended, I guess my sense of humor decided to show up again — and it helped facing reality.

  After all, life was like running.

  Every time you try something new, it’s like running. Sometimes you don’t start off the right foot, you stumble, you fall, it gets harder and harder, but you always end up crossing the finish line. And so you start something else, you run again, more determined or more tired, you fall again, you get back up, but you can’t give up. The path you run on is fraught with danger, but you can find a new one, that is filled with joy instead of pain and sorrow, and you can keep going to finally cross that line. There are always ups and downs, but you look back on how far you’ve come, you understand, and you realize how much you’ve grown. There are always good or bad people showing up, running beside you or tripping you, but nothing that can’t be solved.

  That’s what life is about: a myriad of surprises, hazards, decisions to make, grief to endure, and joy to enjoy.

  Johan was my joy. I needed him. And so I sped up to get to him. I could smell his presence. In spite of his sadness and his shame — because the idiot thought he had failed me — he couldn't leave me. I wouldn't either, even if I wanted to. He better not leave for good, or I’d kick his ass. But either way, he was good at hide-and-seek. He was some kind of shrew. Now wasn’t the time to get under my skin, the little patience I had was wearing thin.

  “JOHAN!” I yelled in the endless woods — I couldn’t care less about the monsters I might be waking up. “Don’t you think I deserve an explanation?!” I actually didn’t care about getting an explanation. But in that little martyr head of his, he had to think himself a loser, and he was undeniably remorseful. So I played the card of the girl who was angry and who had to take it out on him. I�
�d say I had a seventy percent chance of success in getting him to come out.

  I stopped, and waited a couple minutes with my arms crossed, humming impatiently in my sky-blue dress. And then, his scent grew more powerful. My senses went crazy, my heartbeat faster. And here he was, right behind me. My devilish plan had worked!

  Now wasn’t the time to fuss and bother. I immediately turned around. He was just standing there, looking down. His stooped shoulders revealed how much guilt he was actually feeling. Effluviums of pain and sorrow reached my nose. Bridget was barely exaggerating when she’d described what he’d said. He seemed miserable. I didn’t understand why. He had done everything he could…

  Without thinking or waiting any longer, I fell on his neck. I might as well have hugged a stone; it would have been the same. He remained impassive, and though it hurt my feelings a little bit, I tried not to let it show — or smell. I held him tight, breathed in his scent deeply, relished in his presence, in his alive-ness.

  He was here. He had come back to me, in one piece.

  Well granted, he did look like he took a good beating, his complexion was pale, he had dark circles and his clothes were torn and dirty. But those were details. The anxiety I’d been living in ever since he left suddenly vanished. Even the pain gave me some time off. It would obviously come back, but I would undeniably enjoy those little moments when my heart seemed to stop bleeding. My face cuddled up in his neck, my nose was in his collar bone. Oh how much I’d missed him!

  “You should shy away, Madelyne…” he grumbled without moving an inch.

  “Hmmm….” I answered, without obeying him. I could sense he was annoyed, but he didn’t try to push me away. Apparently, he’d rather play dead. When I’d slap him, he’d be actually dead. No, before doing that, I was going to act like a smart, responsible adult. Diplomacy, folks. Violence is pointless. Communication rules! “Are you having an early mid-life crisis?” I asked point blank.

  “A crisis? If that’s what you think this is, fine by me,” he sighed. “You wanted an explanation? Fine. I’m leaving, and I’m never coming back. How does that sound?”

  “This is ridiculous…”

  “I killed Andrea, and you find that ridiculous?”

  A dagger made its way into my heart and pierced it. Slowly. No way… Could Johan…? No. I wouldn’t have it. Daniel and Bridget wouldn’t have kept something like that from me. They told me what happened, the both of them. Johan was just being a drama king. Well, at least he had one flaw! We’d make a hell of a royal couple. “Oh you did? So I guess you’re the one who attacked her. You’re the one who hurt her. You bit her, and you broke her ribs. I guess you’re not the one who brought her here and you did your best to kill her on the way. Am I right?”

  He remained quiet for a couple seconds, shaking his head. I was still clung onto him. There was no way I could let go. He was the rock I needed to climb on not to fall at the bottom of the sea. “No,” he granted. “But…”

  “But what? Maybe you wished for all of this to happen?”

  “No!” he quickly protested, shocked. “I love… I loved Andrea very much. But…”

  A sudden wave of sadness filled his soul, and I knew he was truly hurt. I didn’t know what had happened between them while he was over there, but I guess that they had spent some time together. I could have been jealous of him, because he had the chance to spend time with her when I should have, but on the contrary, I was glad. She’d had the opportunity to meet and get to know my soulmate. And she liked him, I remembered her saying that Johan was a good man, and that we’d have gorgeous children....

  My eyes watered, but I controlled myself. To know that she liked him and that she’d given me her blessing in her final moments was comforting yet painful. It was too soon.

  “That’s enough,” I said impatiently. “You did everything you could. You brought back to me all the people I cared about in my former pack, and all my other friends. I never thought I’d get to see Bridget again, and even if you hated Milo, you brought him back too. You put your own plans and desires on hold for me, you did your best to make me happy, and you did. I’m very happy.” My life trembled. I wasn’t lying… but it was hard to say that I’d been happy recently. Yet in a way, I was now. I kissed his cheek, I needed to get it together. “And as for my grandma…” I whispered, shaken. “There was nothing else you could have done. You took so many risks for me to see her again, and thanks to you, I got the chance to see her one last time, I got to say goodbye, I got to tell her that I loved her. I was here when she died, she was in my arms. You did so much for me Johan, so much, and I could never thank you enough… So please, tell me what on earth is wrong with you, why you’re behaving this way when there was nothing else to do.”

  The armor of my human stone started to crumble. I could sense he was hesitating, but then he finally hugged me timidly. I could barely sense his arms around my waist, but that was a big step right now. I stuffed my nose in his neck, and he shivered, which was the proof I could still do something to him and get him to leave this cocoon of controlled coldness. “Mad’... You wouldn’t understand…”

  “Then explain!”

  A growl rose from deep in his wolf-self. He held me tighter, urgently, half-reprimanding me, half-craving my touch, like I craved his. I was starting to get really comfortable. If he could only hold me a little bit tighter, this’d be close to perfection. “It’s all my fault,” he said, and his voice was filled with pain. “I was stupid. If I had thought it through, I would have understood that it was so easy it had to be a trap. But I was so eager to free Daniel and Andrea so I could go home to you and see your smile when you’d see I had brought them too… I rushed in. After weeks of planning, I screwed up. I couldn’t… Andrea was too far when they attacked her. I was trying to protect Daniel, to push the others away… By the time I succeeded she was already hurt. And that’s because of me. I wasn’t smart enough, I wasn’t good enough of a strategist, I wasn’t strong enough… And because of that, you lost her. You should be hating me. Why don’t you hate me? Why don’t you want to understand?”

  I let go of him, grabbed him by the shoulders, and shook him up a bit. His eyes were still decisively closed, but I could see shock and surprise on his livid and distorted face. “Johan. Stop. Get it together. You. Did. Everything. You. Freaking. Could. You hear me? You’re the one who doesn’t want to understand. Nothing is your fault! It’s not your fault we met, it’s not your fault you have the misfortune of having me for a soulmate. It’s not your fault my former pack-mates are assholes. It’s not your fault they went after my grandma. I thank you, Johan. Do you get it? Thank you for bringing my people back to me, thank you for letting me see my only family one last time, thank you for coming into my life…”

  I was definitely crying. Well done. He won. Now wasn’t the time to torture me like that. I stopped shaking him like a plum tree. I let go of him and walked away. I didn’t want him to see me cry. It wasn’t like me, and I wouldn’t have him think I’m a whiner, he wouldn’t want me anymore. He already wasn’t so fond of me. In the end, if he wanted to go, it was because of me and everything I put him through.

  “Mad’!” He caught up with me three seconds later and took me in his arms.

  This time, he held tight. I struggled to get away, still crying, but he wouldn’t let go. I showered him with blows, but he didn’t move a muscle, and God knew he had some of those. Instead, he took in each of my punches, without saying anything, without letting go, without looking at me. I didn’t know why I was doing that. Johan did everything for me, and Johan was my everything. So why would I hit him? I cared about him. It didn’t make any sense. I guess I had finally lost it.

  My nerves were squashed. Anger, despair, pain. The terrible fear of my soulmate rejecting me. But that was stupid, everything didn’t revolve around me, and he was in pain too. But I couldn’t control those feelings. I finally recovered my senses though and stopped hitting him. I crumbled against him, and rivers of t
ears were rolling down my face. He held me even tighter. “Mad’... Please forgive me… I’ve been a complete idiot. You just lost your grandma and I’m acting like a fool.”

  “No, no,” I sobbed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn't have…”

  He framed my face with his hands and attempted to wipe away the tears that had probably left lots of mascara goops here and there. I kept my eyes close; I wasn’t ready to be overwhelmed with the emotions of two souls recognizing, meeting, discovering each other — or whatever else they did. He touched the little curls on my forehead and kissed my face all over — except my lips. This sudden tenderness soothed me.

  My she-wolf, who’d been numb for the last couple days, wriggled and stretched out of her torpor. She sorts of purred inside of me, pleased and glad that her future companion would show her some affection. I sighed, sad, tired, relieved. Johan’s presence and his love felt so terribly good I subsided into his arms.

  “Let me get a couple things straight,” he whispered, caressing my cheek. “I don’t regret anything, when it comes to you. I don’t regret meeting you, or bringing you your friends back, even Milo, and most of all I don’t regret loving you. There is not a single woman on this planet or in the whole universe that is more lovable than you. You’re amazing. There is no stronger she-wolf, no funnier friend, no more understanding alpha, no more beguiling girl. You’re everything, Mad’. You are my life. And if I hear you say that having a soulmate like you is something to complain about, then I’ll bite you. You are the greatest thing in my life, Mad’.”

  “Maybe I just wanted you to bite me…” After such a declaration, there was nothing else I could say. I was too moved. I needed a diversion.

  “You could have just asked,” he said softly while his mouth headed for my neck.

  His teeth bit my thin skin, and this — weirdly — delightful pinching echoed in my entire body, even in my heart. I moaned, surprised and pleased. His teeth let go of my skin, but his whole mouth sucked up a part of it; his burning tongue was tasting the flavor of my skin. I pressed my body against his and relished in this feeling that made me feel alive, loved, and that eclipsed my sorrow for a few seconds. He stopped eventually, and, reassured, I held him tight.