by Lewis, D. C.
Katrina spent the next two hours spooning broth into Kiera's mouth, boiling water for more, and looking for signs of improvement. By the end of the two hours, Kiera was readily swallowing as soon as the liquid filled her mouth, and some of her color had started to return. Finally convinced that Kiera had gotten through the worst of it, Katrina picked her daughter up to carry her to the bath she had prepared.
As her powerful arms lifted Kiera from the bar, Kiera began to mumble something very, very, softly, the first real sign that her brain was perhaps still alive. The whispering was so faint that not even Katrina's superhuman hearing could make it out but it pleased her that Kiera had started to regain her power of speech.
The water was still steaming in the tub as Katrina laid her daughter in its warm embrace. Even though she had done what she had considered a good job of cleaning Kiera's battered body with a washcloth, still the water changed color when Kiera was completely submerged to her neck. Not only Katrina hoped this would soften the blood and dirt still caked on Kiera's body but also loosen the muscles that had started to lock up as Kiera's life force left her.
Kiera's hair was another matter. While the water had helped to relieve the grip that the knots had on her hair, multiple washes and brushstrokes were needed to return it to its former glory. Cupping her hands, Katrina scooped water and let it fall on Kiera's head, watching the water trickle down, carrying with it the filth of Kiera's encounter. When her hair was good and saturated, Katrina gently massaged shampoo into the tangle, all the while making sure that Kiera's mouth stayed above water. It would do no good to get her this close to recovery only to have her drown in the tub.
Katrina worked the shampoo down to the roots of Kiera's hair, removing twigs and other small solid objects from her locks. Kiera moaned softly as her mother rubbed her head and Katrina recalled a time when, putting Kiera to bed, she would refuse to sleep until Katrina rubbed her head, which worked like magic to lull Kiera asleep.
Over and over, Katrina washes Kiera's hair until the familiar blonde glow was shining brightly. She has to empty and refill the bath twice due to the dirtiness it achieved while cleaning her daughter. On the third tubful, the water stayed clear, all the blood and grime finally having taken a journey down the drain just one tub ago.
Katrina attempted to brush her daughter's hair and rid it of the tangles. The task proved to be easier said than done. Trying to deal with so much hair while a person is lying unconscious in a bathtub isn't the easiest of endeavors but Katrina did her best, ridding Kiera of the worst of the tangles and returning her hair to some semblance of normalcy.
Even Lycoans aren't immune to overexposure in water and Kiera's fingers had started to prune as proof. While this wasn't a concern, Katrina figured an hour's soaking and warming was adequate and the best thing now was to get Kiera comfortable in her bed and allow her body the time to heal that it so desperately needed. Holding Kiera with one arm and toweling her off with the other, Katrina dried her off entirely before putting her to bed.
Katrina easily transported Kiera up the wooden stairs to her bedroom. Kiera stirred while in her mother's arms. It almost seemed as if she were trying to defend herself against an invisible attacker. She was still too weak to be much of a nuisance and this lasted only a few seconds. Regardless, Katrina continued up the stairs unhindered.
Depositing Kiera into the warm comfort of bed, Katrina made sure her daughter's head was propped up, and her nude form covered with her down comforter. Katrina had suspicions that Kiera had "changed" this evening. While the attack would account for torn clothing, only a "change" would completely denude someone in the fashion Kiera was. Give the current situation, Katrina couldn't even rejoice in this suspicion, for too many other things were happening that overshadowed celebration.
Pulling up a chair to the side of her daughter's bed, Katrina would be the second being standing vigil this evening.
Twenty
Larissa was fuming.
All the planning that had one into the evening had been for nothing. She literally had her prey between her teeth, her tongue tasting the fresh blood of the blonde whelp, a moment she had only dreamt about, and then things had devolved into chaos.
Just as Kiera’s heart slowly began to beat its last few beats. Just as Larissa was about to erase the problem that had plagued her for the last 18 years, Kiera’s heart began to beat with renewed vigor! And the weakling pup had “changed”!
Enraged, Larissa smashed the table in front of her with both hands. The impact easily shattering the particle board top, halving it almost perfectly. Her turquoise eyes seething with rage.
“I was told she was resistant to ‘changing’”, she said through clenched teeth to no one in particular, her cohorts having immediately and conveniently found other places to be upon her return.
But the reports had been correct, Kiera had been resistant to ‘change’. She refused to embrace her Lycoan nature which is what made her such a poor choice for Alpha which had been the basis of Larissa’s argument against Kiera’s ascension and the reason why Larrisa’s followers had sided with her and not Katrina.. Now that she had seemingly embraced this part of her, brought more significant issues for Larissa and her timeline needed to be accelerated. There was no longer any time to wait. But now…
There was also the added complication of the creature that interrupted them. Whether it friend or foe, Larissa did not know but had no plans on waiting around to find out.
Being honest with herself, Larissa admitted that it was the creature more than Kiera’s change that caused her to break of the attack. She could have easily finished off Kiera in her weakened state, even if she “changed” but she had never smelled anything like the creature in the woods, its scent dark and ominous. And it terrified her to her core.
Her body shivered and goosebumps appeared up and down her arms as she recalled that menacing presence. In her haste to escape she did not get a look at it and wasn’t sure that she even wanted to but unfortunately, it was now a wildcard and she had no idea its intentions. Was it there for her, or for Kiera? If she were lucky it would have finished the job she started. If she wasn’t…
She refused to fail after coming this far. Besides, there was no turning back. There were two outcomes, either she became Alpha or she died. Particuarly after tonight and her assault on Kiera. Katrina would not take this lightly and she still had enough packmates under her control that wouldn’t take this lightly either. Larissa was in a very precarious situation. She knew that even some members of her own pack wouldn’t approve of her tactics but they were too scared to confront her about it.
She would regroup and see this to fruition. Her plans would need to be accelerated and she would have to take greater risks if she were to see herself as Lakaia.
Her anger turned to amusement as a new plan formed in her mind. The moonlight reflected off her white teeth, teeth still stained with the blood of Kiera Hemming.
Twenty-One
The light streaming through her eyelids was painful, like someone driving daggers into her corneas. Disoriented, it took her a few seconds to become accustomed to the light and get her bearings. Surprised, she realized that she was at home, lying in her own bed in her own room. Somehow she had managed to make it home. Kiera had no memory of the drive. The last thing she remembered was walking towards her car after the attack. Even that seemed like a dream, a blur of memories, most coming from a third-person perspective, as if Kiera were a spectator watching herself.
But one thing that she did remember and with a clarity unmistakable, she had "changed." She had become the creature of her nightmares, covered in hair, Lycoan. Her worst fears had finally been realized. Attempting to sit up, Kiera was amazed at how sore her body was. It reminded her of the first time she took a yoga class. Stubborn person that she was, and thinking that yoga was a silly way to get exercise, she signed up for the advanced class. During the hour-long session, she didn't feel like she was overexerting herself, but the next morni
ng she was so sore she could barely get out of bed. Even her toes were sore.
This was like that, ten times worse. The simple act of drawing air into her lungs hurt when it expanded her chest. Due to the pain, she couldn't straighten her arms or legs, as if her tendons had shortened. Apparently her encounter was even worse than she had thought. She struggled to move.
"Do not panic," came her mother's voice, "All Lycoans who 'change' for the first time are sore like you."
Focused as she was on her discomfort, Kiera hadn't noticed that her mother was sitting next to her, and visibly started. Filled with anxiety, Kiera's mind wasn't yet functioning well enough to even attempt to lie. Stammering "How did you know?" was all she could say.
"I put two and two together," Katrina said. " The way your clothing was completely torn off your body. Not the smallest scrap of cloth remained. Even an attack as brutal as yours would have left some clothing on your body. Only a 'change' while fully clothed could remove all of it with such efficiency. Also, your wounds. The only thing that saved you was your 'change'. Your Lycoan side has a much greater regenerative capacity. As soon as you 'changed' the healing process began and started to close your wounds. Your 'change' saved your life."
Taken aback by the shock of having been saved not only once but twice by a side of her that she had tried denying for so long, Kiera was speechless.
"It was...," Kiera began.
"Larissa, I know," Katrina finished for her. "I initially figured it was her and then this was confirmed yesterday morning."
"Confirmed?" Kiera asked.
"Yes, confirmed. I couldn't just leave torn clothing and a bloody ground at the park for anyone to discover. The backlash would have been overwhelming, especially with the signs of a struggle and large paw prints. Too many questions would have been asked which would have risked exposure. Members of the pack still loyal to me went and cleaned it up and confirmed it was Larissa. I would have gone myself but I did not want to leave you alone."
"How did you know I went to the park?"
"It was the most logical place for you to go at that time of the night. I have known for years that it was where you went when you were angry, so it was the first place the pack looked. We are fortunate that I was correct."
Trying to mentally digest all the information with which she was being assaulted, Kiera's mind focused on something her mother had said earlier.
"You said yesterday morning. How long have I been asleep?"
Standing up and moving closer to Kiera's side, "A little over twenty-four hours," Katrina said as she sat down on Kiera's bed. "A very tense twenty-four hours. I was not sure you were going to pull through."
Then in a gesture uncharacteristic for her mother, Katrina softly stroked the side of Kiera's head. Kiera was unaccustomed to such displays of affection from her mother and was unsure how to respond, electing to act as if this were nothing out of the ordinary. The moment didn't last long and Katrina pulled her hand away. Kiera secretly wished that the moment would last for an eternity. Affection from her mother was rare to the point of non-existence and greatly desired by her daughter.
Once more attempting to achieve a sitting position, Kiera faltered until she felt her mother's arm assisting her. The comforter that had been covering her slid down as she sat up, revealing Kiera's nude body. Face turning red in embarrassment, Kiera quickly grabbed the fleeing covers and clutched them tightly under her chin, trying to recover her modesty. Katrina, unfazed by the sight of her half-naked daughter and not feeling like telling Kiera that she had seen her naked quite a lot over the past day, remarked, "It is nice to see some color on you," and said no more, which only causes Kiera's face to go even hotter with a darker shade of red.
Desperately wanting to change the subject, Kiera took her right hand and rubbed her left shoulder, trying to assess the damage. She wasn't prepared to find unbroken and unblemished flesh underneath her fingertips, flesh that appeared never to have been injured. Kiera was fully expecting a series of bumpy scars, visible blemishes that would forever taint the beauty of her skin. So unprepared was she for her discovery, she almost lost her grip on the modesty-saving covers, coming close to exposing herself once more.
"You can thank your Lycoan side for that as well," Katrina commented, completely immune to her daughter's potential embarrassment. And she looked directly unabashedly at Kiera, assessing where there was any permanent damage or if she had pretty much fully recovered. "The soreness will be gone by tomorrow. It will leave even faster if you get up and start moving around. That will help to work the lactic acid out of your muscles. With each 'change' the soreness will become less and less until it is gone altogether."
Kiera wanted to inform her mother that she would never "change" again, but she currently lacked the energy to argue and just let the comment pass without reply. Katrina, taking this as acceptance, slightly inclined her head in approval and said no more on the subject.
"I will go downstairs to get you something to eat, I know you must be hungry since you have only been able to drink broth for the past twenty-four hours," Katrina said as she turned around and headed through Kiera's bedroom door.
Almost as if her stomach had actually heard Katrina, Kiera's midsection started to growl loudly and the back of her mouth started to salivate at the thought of food. Kiera waited until she heard her mother's footsteps hit the downstairs floor before she released the blanket protecting her bashfulness and attempted to get out of bed. Simply swinging her legs over the side exerted her to the point that sweat beaded on her forehead and she had to grit her teeth to keep from yelling.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, panting more than breathing, it took Kiera some time to muster the courage to try to stand, motivated more by wanting her mother not to walk in on her before she had a chance to throw on some clothes, than any real desire to get out of bed.
Her first attempt to be upright resulted in her falling back down, luckily in the direction of her bed, and her descent was cushioned by the feathered softness. The stubborn side of her that had demonstrated itself numerous times over the years made another appearance. Now more determined than ever, Kiera wanted to be able to stand up, for no more reason than to prove that she could, her mother totally forgotten.
Once again sitting on the edge of her bed, Kiera attempted to stand. Her balance was slightly off and she swayed from side to side, again coming close to falling but she was strong in her resolve and finally achieved her full height. The stretch was painful but at the same time, felt good, an enjoyable pain that a person gets when they have had a really good workout.
Still wobbly, she held her arms out to her sides for balance, mimicking a tightrope walker even though her feet were planted firmly on a flat surface. The teetering act continued for a few moments and Kiera fought to remain in the vertical position. She felt almost like a baby learning to stand for the first time. It was with a sense of accomplishment that she regained her balance and was able to stand without fear of succumbing to gravity.
Taking her first step proved to be the next obstacle to overcome. The muscles in her legs, still recovering from their lack of nutrients and not wanting to be disturbed from their state of rest, were very resistant to movement and not pleased with suddenly having demands placed on them. But with each step they became less and less resistant. Kiera was pleased with how quickly the soreness faded from her legs, her confidence growing with each step as she made her way to her closet. This was one of those times she wished she wasn't quite so tidy, that there was a shirt and pair of lounge pants lying on the floor within arm's reach of the bed.
Opening the closet door and grabbing the first few things she could find, she had barely pulled her shirt down over her head when she heard her mother's footsteps come through her door. Katrina was carrying a plate of chicken, and much to the amazement of Kiera, it was all grilled, not a single piece raw. It also smelled like Katrina had taken the time to season it. Apparently Katrina's desire for her daughter to eat solid f
ood outweighed her desire to argue about the foolishness of cooking, she had and acquiesced to Kiera's wish without a fuss. Kiera began to wonder if aliens had abducted her mother and replaced her with this surrogate.
Her stomach, once again letting Kiera know it was empty, growled, craving the plate of food Katrina was holding. Making her way to her mother, Kiera graciously took the plate from her hands. Saliva had formed in the corners of her mouth, her body anxiously anticipating the forthcoming meal.
Ravenously Kiera tore into the food, using both hands to feed her mouth, taking large bites and barely chewing before swallowing whole chunks. With each bite that fell into the vast emptiness of her stomach, she felt her strength return. Even though the broth her mother fed her while she was unconscious had saved her life, it was no substitute for real food.
So focused on consuming the meal in front of her, Kiera hadn't even noticed the smile that cut her mother's face in two. At first Kiera didn't understand what amused her mother so much and then it dawned on her, she was eating like her mother always wanted, like a Lycoan. Having thrown away all sense of propriety and manners, here she was stuffing her face like some animal, bits of chicken clinging to various parts of her face, juice running down her hands to her elbows. She did in fact look like some wild animal gorging itself on a fresh kill.
Pausing long enough to regain her composure, Kiera set the handful of chicken she had gripped back down on the plate. Wiping the remnants of fowl from her cheeks, Kiera fought the urge to dive right back in to her meal. Sitting down in a chair at her computer desk, she did her best to appear back in control.
"I will need some silverware if you want me to eat."
Bringing her arms from behind her back, which Kiera would have thought a suspicious posture for her mother had she been paying attention, Katrina revealed a fork and knife wrapped in a napkin which she handed over to her waiting daughter. The smile on her face spoke volumes, and Kiera could hear her mother saying "You can't deny what you are" in her head as Katrina turned around to leave Kiera alone.
