by Taylor Fray
They reached the crest of a hill. The wind gusted Zak’s hair as he looked down the slope, to an expansive forest valley. He looked back and forth, making sure no one was looking.
“Alright, guess I better join,” Zak said as he crouched down. He closed his eyes and his lip started curling as fangs protruded from his mouth. His nose elongated to a snout. He writhed as the shift took place and in a moment he was a large silver-gray wolf. He had yellow eyes and a patch of black fur that ran along the ridge of his back.
Zak began trotting down the side of the hill and Morgan followed. A passerby would think it was just two wolves in the wilderness.
Zak led Morgan down through the forest. Her natural instincts kicked in and she realized they were tracking prey. Deer, a few of them. It seemed as if hours passed by as they trotted through woods, though she couldn’t be sure—her whole sense of time was off. She did manage to realize that Zak was teaching her to hunt. When they got close enough to the deer they slowed down to a calculated, silent stalk. Morgan could barely control herself. The anticipation was like someone about to eat after a month of starving. The hunting pair spotted their prey. A grown female and two younger males, their ears twitching in the sunlight as they munched on grass.
Zak burst into a wild sprint—it seemed as if in a single motion he covered fifty feet. The deer began running off, but Zak kept pace. Morgan gave chase too. She realized that Zak was running one of the young male deer toward her. Isolating it. He bit at its legs every time he ran away from her. Morgan got hold of one of his legs, her neck twisting as he struggled. He kicked free of her grip and dashed away, but Zak intercepted him. His jaws snapped like a bear trap, crushing the young male’s neck with their grip. The deer kicked in desperation, and an instant later its limbs went limp. The other deer had run off, their instincts overwhelming them with fear.
It was so satisfying to hunt, to help in the chase. No human would understand it, but it was part of her now, that instinct to seek out prey. Perhaps it always had been.
They shared in devouring the deer. Blood smeared their snouts as they tore into it. Even though Morgan’s human side was foggy, she still managed to realize that it made sense now why she always loved meat so much. Even when some of her college friends had gone through their vegetarian phase, she had eaten meat every single meal of her life it seemed. Now as she ate, blood smattering her muzzle, her human side was disgusted with herself, but her wolf side was ecstatic. When they had gorged themselves on deer meat, they slinked off beneath a tree and relaxed, their stomachs resting on the ground as they felt the drowsiness of a big meal. They lay there for a long while, soaking in sun and enjoying their fullness.
Suddenly they heard loud, annoying barks. They reared up, ears flaring wide to take in the sound. It was dogs. Loud, annoying dogs. The sudden alarm shocked Morgan enough that before she knew it her wolf body was shifting, limbs elongating, her frame growing back into a human’s. “Oh hell,” Morgan said as she looked down at herself, entirely naked once more. This shifting thing did not lend itself to social grace. Zak also shifted back to his human form, though he still had his clothes and boots on somehow.
“You couldn’t hold it till we got back to the car?” Zak whispered, taking off his shirt and jacket. A jolt of electricity shot through Morgan at seeing his bare body, more muscular and built for a life of violence than any man she’d ever seen.
“I don’t know—it just happened!” Morgan answered, crouching and wrapping her arms around herself to cover her lady parts. “And why do you still have clothes on and not me?”
“Practice.” He handed the shirt and jacket to her without looking.
She didn’t have time to process his vague answer. She put the shirt on and wrapped the massive leather garment over herself like a skirt. It was embarrassing to be wearing a jacket like that, but she had seen women in much more revealing dresses. “How are we going to get out of here, I can’t exactly run like this.”
“Well, try shifting back.”
“How am I supposed to do that?” She shook her head. “I can’t control it.” She was getting anxious. The barking kept getting closer, making Morgan even more nervous. There were human footsteps, human odor mixed in—her senses were sharpening enough that she could start telling subtle things like that.
“Come on,” Zak said as he reached out his arms. “I’ll carry you.”
“I’m not exactly the lightest girl in the world,” she said in a rare moment of self-consciousness. “And it’s like ten miles back.”
“I can flip over a car with my bare hands. Trust me, I can carry you.” He reached an arm under her legs, and another on her back, and in an instant he literally swept her off her feet.
The barks faded as they moved with uncanny speed, Zak bounding through the forest like he was carrying a twig in his hand rather than a full-grown, voluptuous woman. Up and over he went, over boulders, over streams, over fallen trees. They were moving so fast her hair was kicking in the wind. After the worry of being spotted faded from her, she couldn’t help but smile a little, enjoying the feel of his arms wrapped around her and seeing the forest blur by—Zak was like a freaking rollercoaster, in man form.
They barreled toward a large stream of rushing water. “Wait!” Morgan said. Zak came to a sudden stop.
“What is it?”
“Water. You think it’s safe to drink?”
He set her down. “We’re Shifters. It would take a very potent poison to hurt us. I think you’ll be fine.”
“Thank God,” she said as she carefully navigated moss-covered rocks so she could drink. She drank from the stream using her cupped hand and splashed some on her face.
“I should have stopped for water earlier,” Zak said.
“It’s alright,” she said between gulps. “I was too busy going insane to even realize how thirsty I was.”
The water on her face cooled her down. She closed her eyes and let herself breathe. A massive headache was beginning to throb.
“Hey do you mind if, I just sit for a moment. All this shifting and… gallivanting around is making my head hurt.”
“Gallivanting?” Zak grinned. “…Yes of course. Rest. These haven’t been easy days for you.”
She stepped to a tree and sat against it. He surveyed the area like a watchdog.
“You’re always on guard, aren’t you?”
“No.” He walked toward her and crouched. “I sleep sometimes.”
She smiled a little; she had her eyes closed, but she felt he smiled too.
“Zak, so far all I know about being a Shifter is fighting and killing. Isn’t there anything good about it?”
“You can drink water from local streams without worry.”
She laughed silently and opened her eyes. “I’m serious. I feel like my life was just completely torn apart, and I just need something to look forward to. I know we’re not monsters like you said, but so far it sure feels like it.”
“Some of us are monsters.” Zak thought for a long moment. “But yes there are good things. We can have long lives. You can live two, even three hundred years, and age accordingly. With few exceptions, none of us ever know disease.” He reclined beside her, against the tree. “Human limitations, their frail bodies, they’re foreign to us. You’ll have strength, speed and other abilities no human could ever come close to.”
“What good is all that if it’s constant fighting for our lives.”
“That’s not all Shifters’ lives. Many choose human identities and live rather mundane lives, and if you abide by a clan’s laws, you’ll always have a brotherhood. Human relations are often insincere and weak, but a clan will be willing to die for you. Because we naturally live in packs, we have bonds that are even stronger than a human’s. Once you find your place in a clan, it will be like having a family of dozens upon dozens.”
Morgan thought about her own life. It was rather empty of those deep relationships. Her friendships had mostly been passing, friendships out of comm
on circumstances—school, work—but not out of real choice. “That sounds comforting… It might be nice to have a… family for a change, though who knows if they’ll accept me.”
“What do you mean? You had a family. You were trying to avenge your sister.”
“Yes, but… we weren’t close. Actually, to be honest I haven’t really been close to anyone… maybe ever.”
“How can that be? Your father? Your mother?”
“I never knew my father, and he wasn’t someone we talked about growing up. I guess it was kind of silently understood that it wasn’t a topic we brought up. As for my mom, I never felt like we could really be open with each other. Maybe it was because of this, because she was keeping this enormous secret from me. It wasn’t the nicest childhood. I always looked around at other families and wondered what was wrong with us. I even tried finding that through friends and guys, but it never worked. I’ve never had those deep relationships that other people seem to live for. Something always made me feel distant—maybe it was that I wasn’t with my own kind. It’s strange how so much time can pass while you keep putting off finding peace with yourself.” She blinked and realized she had been talking almost to herself. “I don’t mean to sound so bitter.”
“You don’t. You just sound… honest.”
She looked at him with a calm curiosity. Suddenly he didn’t seem like the berserking wolf man that had terrified her, of all things, he seemed gentle. Perhaps it was the rollercoaster of physical and mental traumas she had just undergone, but something inside her wanted to connect with someone in a human way. “You know, I bet even you’re not battling evil all the time. What’s something, some moment that you could never have lived as a human, that you really value?”
“I’ve won much glory in battle. I once slew nine vampires in one night—”
“No I don’t mean something you’re proud of like that—” she laughed under her breath. “I mean, something that… you treasure, that really made you happy. I just need something, some idea that all this, that I’m going to be alright somehow.”
He was silent, his eyes searching his memories.
“Yes. There are many things I treasure. And yes, most of them are great victories in battle.” Morgan felt the urge to roll her eyes but then was surprised. “But not all,” Zak continued. “There are many things that come to mind. Talking with my father over a pipe, learning to travel through realms, feasting in the great hall.” He smiled at a sudden memory. “There was one night… It was during the nights of Einherblot. I believe the closest counterpart here in the human world is called the Northern Lights. But in Grey Home, it is a thousand times greater. The very moon turns a luminescent color, some nights a heavy purple, a deep blue. The sky ripples with color as well. Everything is bathed in that light. And there are fields… to the far east, on the borderlands with the lands of the Fae. They are called the Silver Fields because of the color of their grasses. They are considered holy ground, where our ancestors rest. They reflect those lights so that when one walks on them, it is as if you are walking along the sky. We ran there once, a handful of us.” His eyes seemed like they were staring far off, a growing passion in his voice. “Myself, Thalude, Eric—friends, about six of us. We all just… ran. In our wolf forms. We just ran under those lights. I can’t explain it… running as the streaks of light shone on the silver grasses. I felt the presence of our ancestors. They chanted as the ancient bard Brihald blessed us with his music. I cannot describe it entirely. The lights. The music. Running on silver plains that stretched out as far as I could see. I only wish that I could share that feeling with others. I hope you feel something like that some day.”
As Morgan listened, she felt a growing tension in her chest, a quickening of her breath. She began hearing a barely audible rumble, a growl. It was the sound she had heard the night she was in her motel and Zak tried to speak to her. It made her tremble now that she was sitting only inches away from him.
“What about you?” he asked. “Are there not human things you treasure?”
“Yes. I like being human… because we don’t need grand gestures to be fulfilled. I remember when I was in high school. A boy… Ricky...” she smiled at the memory. “He would ride his bike to my house after school. And he would bring me a burger with a shake.” She chuckled. “Once or twice a week. He would always stop by with burgers and we would eat and talk. He became my first boyfriend. You know, sometimes I’m hard on guys. You’re not all bad. I just wish you wouldn’t all…” she trailed off as she felt how Zak was staring at her.
“Morgan,” he said, her name like a realization. His voice became somehow comforting and commanding at once, brimming with strength that she had never heard in any human voice. “You will heal. You will live. I promise you.”
In that moment his eyes went wide, her breathing raced, his lips parted and she began trembling. His arm wrapped around her waist, and his lips pressed into hers. She couldn’t take it anymore—she embraced him, massaged his lips with hers. She felt his massive hand caressing her chin, placing it just so that they could kiss completely. A rush of exhilaration shot through every part of her. She felt herself collapse under him as he went on kissing her with a thirsting ardor.
She had never known a passion like this. It was visceral, primal, accentuated even more so as she felt the grass against her back and all her senses heightened. She ran her hands along his statuesque shoulders, his powerful arms. He began kissing her neck, her collarbone. She arched in a gasp as the leather jacket she was wearing as a skirt came undone around her hips, and she felt his abs against her bare skin. She was getting so hot, soon they would reach the point of no return. Her eyes parted open as she felt pleasure begin rippling all along her body. Suddenly she caught sight of his chest; there was a blood stain there. Memories flashed in her mind, being chained, having a man contort into a bloodthirsty monster before her eyes, the image of her sister torn open.
“Stop,” she shuddered.
Zak froze and leaned back. He was speechless, as if suddenly waking from a trance. “Forgive me,” he said as he sat back. “I shouldn’t have—”
“No, you didn’t do anything wrong.” She wrapped the jacket around herself again. “I just… it’s been a pretty intense few days.”
“You don’t need to explain. I was completely in the wrong.” He stood and walked a few paces away to give her space. She composed herself. “Let me know when you feel better, and we’ll get going.”
She breathed until the blush on her cheeks dissipated. “I’m better.”
Zak began walking in silence. Morgan wasn’t sure that she could read him, but he seemed embarrassed, maybe even hurt. It was endearing that such a powerful, vicious warrior could feel that way.
They walked for a few minutes, but Morgan began slowing down as rocks and debris began digging into her feet.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m just not used to walking barefoot I guess.”
“I didn’t think of that. I can carry you again.”
“No,” Morgan thought of how fast Zak had bounded through the forest. “The way you move, I think my headache would get worse.”
“I’ll only walk this time. Here.” He crouched to one knee and bent forward.
“What?”
“My shoulders. It’s your personal seat.”
“I don’t know. I haven’t had someone carry me like that since… ever.”
“Well, all the better then.”
“Alright, it’s worth a try.” She smiled as she straddled his neck. He stood and she was hoisted up like she was at a concert. He began walking, carefully, with so much balance that Morgan felt she was sailing through the forest. It was strange how even a few feet higher and there were more breezes in the air. She almost felt guilty at how nice it was to be carried like that.
“You sure you won’t get tired?”
She felt him glance up as he walked. “Super strength, remember?”
“Right.” She leane
d her forearms on his silver head of hair. “You know, you’re like a driver, horse and carriage, all in one.”
“I’ll add ‘personal vehicle’ to my titles.”
“Titles?”
Zak hesitated for a moment. “Yes, werewolf, Shifter, that sort of thing.”
“Oh, right.”
They walked for some time, Morgan enjoying the sights and sounds of the wilderness. She was confused at Zak’s mention of titles, but she brushed it off.
They climbed back up a hilltop and began descending, back toward the dirt road where they had parked. When they made it to eyeshot of Zak’s car again, he stopped in mid stride. He crouched down like he spotted something and set Morgan down; she ducked behind a tree, concealing her body in alarm. Then she peered out from behind the tree and spotted what Zak was observing: there was a bearded man standing by his car. He was wearing a camouflage jacket, a hunter’s cap over his gray hair, and had a rifle in his hands.
“Stay here,” Zak said. Then he trotted down the rest of the hill.
“Hey! This your car?” The man yelled when he spotted shirtless Zak.
“Yes. Yes, it is.”
“Well, it’s on my property. What are you doing out here anyway?”
“I just… went for a run. That’s all. I’ll be out of your way in a minute, sir.”
By now Zak was standing by his car, and a few paces from the man.
Morgan could hear the conversation. She was watching, wouldn’t have been so nervous if she hadn’t just been a wolf a few minutes ago, and wasn’t super naked except for a shirt and an improvised skirt. The man studied the shirtless Zak, then his eyes bulged with surprise when he spotted Morgan, peeking out from behind a tree.
“Miss! What’s going on—are you alright?”
Oh crap. Her tongue was frozen with embarrassment for a moment. “Yeah, I’m fine. Everything’s alright,” she stuttered.
“You know, I’m of a mind to call the police just now,” the man said, gripping his rifle nervously.
