Shiftless: A Fantastical Werewolf Adventure

by Aimee Easterling

  The wolf and I turned to follow the male’s scent, and I wasn’t sure which of us was in charge as we put our nose to the ground and traced his path upstream through the trees. It smelled like the alpha had been there only hours previously, and the sinuous path suggested he’d lollygagged about, wandering through the woods as if they were his own. Another rumble came deep in our throats as we smelled where the male had marked his territory on the side of a lightning-scarred oak tree at the crest of the ridge.

  Another few feet, and the wolf himself came into view. He was lounging on the leaf litter, where a gap in the canopy caused a ray of sun to warm his hide. The huge wolf was clearly well aware of our approach, but he simply yawned and laid his chin back down on his paws as we came closer, closing his eyes as if he was planning on finishing out his nap. And I wasn’t surprised by his behavior, either, because I recognized the canine’s coloration. The alpha male was Wolfie.

  ***

  My wolf urged us forward to sniff under the alpha’s tail, but I pushed her down and fought to initiate the shift back into human form. As a canine, Wolfie was nearly double my size, and I suspected his human form was equally imposing, but I trusted my tongue more than I did my feet to get me out of this mess. I’d simply explain to the mutt that he was trespassing on private property, would threaten him with a restraining order if necessary, and would then head back down the hill to check on Keith. I had no idea why Wolfie was nosing around my nephew, but I wouldn’t feel safe until the kid was once again under my watchful eye.

  Unfortunately, my wolf didn’t want to be locked away. It wasn’t just the lost joy of the hunt that made her irritable, it was Wolfie’s presence—my annoying wolf wanted to protect me. She also wanted to play with the alpha male for some crazy reason. Bending her forelegs down onto the ground, she lowered her head, raised her tail, and yipped.

  Wolfie opened his eyes and tilted his head at us quizzically, then rose to his feet. He didn’t seem to know what to make of my wolf any more than I did, but I couldn’t spend much time paying attention to the alpha. I was focusing all of my energy on trying to still my human mind enough to initiate the shift back to two feet.

  My reverse shifts always felt entirely different than the change from human to wolf. Instead of pain, as fur melted away and paws became hands, I usually experienced supreme relief, a bit like stepping into a warm shower after a long day on the trail. Today, though, I didn’t feel any relief...because there was no shift. My wolf was thoroughly in charge. In fact, I could feel her gently guiding my human brain down toward that cage I’d built deep in the dark recesses of our mind to house her. Seeing the trap closing around me, wolf-like, I clawed to escape.

  Despite our internal battle, our external form was still dancing around Wolfie, and it soon became clear that the larger wolf was less than pleased by our presence. He turned as if to go, then sighed and walked back toward us. Gently but firmly, the male wolf took our nose in his jaws, just like my father had done years ago, but without the part where his teeth pierced my skin. Even though the younger alpha was gentle, his act of dominance chastened my wolf long enough for me to escape her clutches, and at the same instant when my human brain became dominant, Wolfie shifted, pulling me with him back into human form.

  The relief of the change elicited a breathless gasp from me, more euphoric than usual because I’d thought my wolf had won our battle and terror had begun to kick in. My legs were wobbly from the shift and I would have fallen to the ground in surprise if Wolfie’s huge arms weren’t wrapped around me, his mouth still on top of my nose. “Whoa,” he breathed as he steadied me, and I became aware of the fact that we were both naked, the alpha’s bare skin pressing against my own.

  Kiss him, demanded my wolf just as I clanged the iron-barred doors behind her and locked the canine away in her prison. Ignoring the unsolicited advice, I took a step back and struggled to pull my eyes away from Wolfie’s very masculine form.

  ***

  “It seemed like you were having a little trouble with your wolf,” the man said gruffly, as if prepared for me to lash out at him for his act of dominance. It took me a minute to focus on his words, though, because my brain was still processing the scenery.

  It shouldn’t have bothered me that the man in front of me was naked since frequent shifts made werewolf packs a bit of a clothing-optional society. But it had been years since I’d spent much time around werewolves, and the human mores around me had sunken in. I averted my gaze in embarrassment, only afterwards realizing that my body language would be read by a werewolf as a display of submission. That thought prompted me to ignore his conversation starter and to go off on a tangent of my own. I turned flashing eyes back onto Wolfie and verbally ripped into him.

  “I don’t know what you think you’re doing here,” I growled, “But this is out-territory, and there’s a young male down there who’s nearing his first shift. I want you gone, and don’t come back.” Righteous anger carried me through the demand, but one glance at Wolfie’s reaction made me want to flee.

  “The kid is ours,” Wolfie growled back, the apology now absent from his stance as his alpha nature rose to the surface. The man’s glare matched mine, and I could feel his wolf rising back up through his skin, struggling to take control. Luckily, my darker half was too firmly locked away to follow.

  Just like during our last meeting, my body told me it was either fight or flight, and this time I chose to fight. “Stop that!” I demanded and was proud of myself for not letting a waver enter my voice. Wolfie was terrifying in his anger, but I didn’t want him to know that. “I don’t want to talk to your wolf right now,” I said, stabbing a finger toward the alpha’s bare chest. “And that kid is my nephew. I’ve already told you once, and I’ll tell you one more time—stay...away...from...him.” I drew out the last words, speaking as I would to a belligerent hiker who needed a show of force to prevent him from pitching his tent in a restricted area. Of course, belligerent hikers usually wore clothes...and they didn’t have the tendency to tear you apart with tooth and claw when annoyed.

  “Keith is part of my pack,” Wolfie said slowly and clearly, his wolf still very much in evidence behind his eyes. “If he’s your nephew, where have you been for the last decade since his mother died?”

  “If he’s part of your pack,” I retorted, “why doesn’t my nephew know that he’s a werewolf?”

  For the first time, I seemed to be gaining ground. Wolfie looked away, for all the world as if he were ashamed of his actions. “I’m working on it,” he muttered, and when he gazed back down at me, the alpha seemed a little more human. “We really should wait until Chase is here to have this discussion,” he continued quietly.

  “Why?” I hurled back. “So you can act like a stuck-up alpha and have your friend translate for you? Are you too good to talk to a woman?”

  This type of behavior was par for the course in most werewolf packs, where alphas required a husband or father to bring a complaint on behalf of a woman. Just thinking about that made me raging mad, so it took a moment for me to understand Wolfie’s response. Instead of answering immediately, the alpha had sunken down onto the ground to sit cross-legged, ignoring the sticks that I was sure were poking into his bare bum. And he added to the non-confrontational attitude by directing his words down into the ground. “No, I want Chase to talk to you because I’m a bloodling,” he said. “I always muck these things up.”

  A bit of a growl had come back into Wolfie’s voice with the last word, but I finally realized that he was frustrated with himself, not with me. So I stayed silent as I mentally rearranged the past into different boxes in my head. If Wolfie were a bloodling, that would explain why he’d stayed in wolf form in the city. Most bloodlings were put down at birth, just like my little brother had been, and even the ones lucky enough to survive had trouble with their human forms. Bloodlings didn’t shift to become human for the first time until they were Keith’s age, and some of them took years after that to learn to speak. Wo
lfie probably did feel more comfortable with his milk brother acting as his spokesman.

  On the one hand, Wolfie’s past made me more sympathetic to his prior actions. But on the other hand, the fact that the alpha was a bloodling made me want to keep Wolfie even further away from Keith. Bloodlings were very much in touch with their wolf nature, and knowing Wolfie was a bloodling made me yet more worried that he’d tear into a pre-shift male. The knowledge didn’t make me feel any more comfortable being alone in the woods with the alpha either.

  While I was silently trying to figure out how to deal with this disaster, Wolfie had kept talking. “What I would have asked Chase to explain to you is that our pack lives on the far side of this mountain.” Just speaking about his blood brother seemed to bring out the humanity in Wolfie’s face and voice, so I let him continue unimpeded. “This whole county has been officially our territory for the last five years. I could tell you that you’re the one trespassing. Not that anyone minds when a beautiful wolf like you comes across the mountain.” As he finished, I realized that Wolfie was looking straight up between my bare breasts to get a glimpse of my face, which was turning beet red.

  “I’m not a wolf,” I stuttered, picking the least useful part of Wolfie’s speech to fixate on, and I could see his more primal nature gleaming back through his eyes.

  “Sure you are,” Wolfie answered. “Even when we’re in human form, we’re all still wolves.” Then he looked back down at the ground and moved on to a safer topic. “I would have asked Chase to tell you that we’ve been keeping an eye on your nephew, and that we’d be more than willing to help with his first shift.”

  Just imagining what kind of “help” Wolfie would give Keith made me gasp involuntarily. Then I immediately regretted my lapse because I could have sworn the huge alpha in front of me knew exactly what was going through my head. His shoulders slumped as if I’d slapped him, and the alpha lowered his voice another notch so I had to strain to make out his words. “Chase would have said that better,” he muttered. Then, looking at my bare feet, he raised his voice a tiny bit and added, “Chase would be glad to come help with Keith’s change. He’s friends with Dr. Baker.”

  I sighed, thinking of the mess I’d left behind me at the mansion on the hill. I’d have to find a way to explain my weird behavior and wiggle my way back into Dale’s good graces...plus sneak into my car to find some clothes before someone caught me running around the yard naked. Since Wolfie was currently acting oddly submissive, it seemed like a good time to take my leave and deal with this more pressing issue rather than to keep puzzling over the pack across the mountain. “I appreciate your offer,” I told the top of the alpha’s head as I turned to go. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

  I was picking my way across the ground on bare feet, trying to dodge rough spots, when Wolfie’s parting shot hit me like a rock to the back of the head. “One more thing,” he added, the wolf winning out in his voice. “I would have had Chase ask you to go out on a date with me.”

  Ignoring the damage to my feet, I took to my heels and fled.

  Chapter 7

  When I returned to the house, it became clear how Dale had slept in the same bed as a werewolf for five years without figuring out his wife’s secret. My brother-in-law was clueless.

  “Just in time for dinner!” he greeted me as I walked in the door wearing a different set of clothes than the ones I’d left in. The house smelled of browned beef and grated cheese, and I could tell my wolf was a little more awake than usual from the intensity of the odors and from the unwelcome ache in my bones, stronger than I’d felt in years. Ignoring the pain, I smiled warily at Dale, expecting the third degree, but all he wanted to know was how long I’d be staying.

  “Well, I’m kinda between jobs at the moment,” I began, trying to figure out how to invite myself for an extended visit. I needn’t have worried.

  “Brooke always assumed we’d have people living from the basement to the attic,” Dale confided as he pulled warm tortillas out of the oven. “That’s why we built such a big house. You’d be doing me a favor if you stayed for a few weeks and helped me get Keith sorted out. He looked a bit better after you left, but I know one session isn’t enough to fix everything.”

  The man was almost pleading with me to come into his home and convert his son, and I felt a twinge of guilt that my purpose here wasn’t more charitable. It was either Keith or me, though, and the kid made me feel better about my traitorous plan as soon as he showed up for dinner. Dale had to beard his son in his lair and argue the teenager into sitting down with us, and even then, the youngster refused to eat the soft tacos his father had assembled. Instead, my nephew brought a box of cheerios and a jug of milk to the table and downed bowl after bowl of the floating cereal, ignoring his father’s attempts to draw him into conversation. Even as a bystander, the one-sided exchange was painful, and I was relieved when Dale gave up and turned to me instead.

  “I understand we have a mutual friend,” my brother-in-law said to open the adult conversation. I struggled to figure out who he might be referring to, but Dale was quick to illuminate the mystery. “Chase called about an hour ago, hoping to catch up with you,” he continued. “I told him you’d gone out for a run, and invited him to the clinic-cleanup day tomorrow.”

  I was saved from answering because Dale’s words drew a reaction from his son at last, although not the one Dale had been looking for. “Dad,” Keith whined. “I don’t have to go, do I?” I raised my eyebrows, thinking Dale must be roping people into hard labor, but instead it turned out the doctor was helping get a drug-rehab clinic up and running and was looking for volunteers for the last day of mopping and window cleaning before patients moved in. Like the good guy he obviously was, Chase had volunteered to help out.

  And while I had a feeling our get-together was more Wolfie’s idea than Chase’s, the gathering did seem like safe, neutral ground to hash out our differences, so I acted enthusiastic about the opportunity to meet up with my “old friend.” Keith didn’t even try to feign excitement, but unlike his dining choices, the volunteer work wasn’t optional. “You’re going,” Dale said simply, and Keith rolled his eyes before returning to his study of the last cheerios melting in the bottom of his bowl.

  “I hate to miss the cleanup,” Dale continued, returning his attention to me, “but I have to do my rounds at the hospital tomorrow morning....”

  “I can take Keith,” I offered quickly, my guilt making me want to simplify my brother-in-law’s life, at least a little bit. I was eating the guy’s food and planning on stealing his son—the least I could do was a bit of ferry duty. But Dale had other plans.

  “No, that’s all taken care of,” he replied. “I didn’t want to try to give you directions since it’s a bit tricky finding the place, so Chase will pick you both up tomorrow at ten.” The gangly doctor smiled at me as if he was doing me a big favor, and he probably thought he was—giving me an opportunity to spend more time with my old friend Chase.

  Unfortunately, the last thing I wanted was to be stuck in a car with Wolfie, depending on the alpha’s good will to get me home. But there didn’t seem to be any way to wiggle my way out of the appointment, so I pasted a smile onto my face, thanked Dale for dinner, and did up the dishes like a good house guest. I might have been trying to turn his son into the heir of a bloodthirsty werewolf alpha, but I didn’t want Dale to think I was a layabout.

  ***

  My basement room felt like a retreat after running the gauntlet of Keith’s indifference and Dale’s kindness during dinner, all while my wolf gnawed soundlessly but very noticeably at my bones. I sank onto the pull-out sofa with a sigh, ignoring the way the bar in the center dug into my back. As a ranger, I’d learned to sleep on anything, and since I was 100% sure the roof didn’t leak, this room met with my instant approval.

  It was nearly dark outside and I could easily have fallen asleep, wiping the trials of the day away, but I had one more problem to overcome before I’d earned my rest.
My father had given me a month to do his bidding, but he wasn’t a patient man, and I wanted to deliver Keith well under deadline. That meant teaching the kid to shift ASAP, and I was unlikely to do a good job as a mentor unless my wolf and I were on speaking terms. Our run today had given me hope that I might be able to push myself into a shift at will, and there was no time like the present to test that hypothesis.

  After making sure the door was locked and the shades were drawn, I lay back on the couch and slowed my breathing. My most recent change had been the wolf’s idea, and my failure while searching for Melony could easily be dismissed as caused by stress during a difficult day. The truth was that I hadn’t tried to pull up my wolf in years except for those recent endeavors, preferring instead to act as human as possible while forced to live in a non-werewolf world. So I had no clue how hard or easy the shift would be.

  Two hours later, I was forced to admit that the shift was neither hard nor easy—it was simply absent. My wolf refused to nibble at the bait, and I felt entirely as human when I finally gave up and flipped on the lamp as when I’d first laid down to meditate. The only change was that now I was 100% frustrated.

  A soft tap on the door drew me away from my brown study. The room was small enough that I could turn the knob without leaving the bed, and I pulled the door open to reveal my nephew’s tall form. Keith was built like his father, but was even more awkward-looking since his muscle development was lagging behind his bone growth. There was another difference too—Keith was obviously more clueful than his father, as was evidenced by the first words out of his mouth.