Blind Wolf

by Rose, Aubrey

  "Thanks again," Julia said. "See you later." She turned and walked away quickly so that she would not be tempted to turn back. She wanted to stay and talk to him for hours. A writer! And he seemed interested in her! She felt like a heroine from a Jane Austen novel.

  At the library, Julia hummed through the rest of her work. The hours passed quickly as she daydreamed about Damien. He had held her hand so possessively, as though she belonged to him already, and he belonged to her. And then he had kissed her hand—how romantic! Her thoughts spiraled into intricate fantasies about what other places he might kiss on her body. When her boss yelled at her for not finishing processing all of the discard books, she just blushed and went right to it. Although she had hoped that he might come back to the library to see her again, by the time she closed up and left she was still in a good mood from their brief coffee date.

  Back home, Granny Dee was clipping the roses in the front of the house in the dusky light of sunset.

  "Granny Dee!" Julia beamed as she came through the gate. "How was your day?"

  "Not as good as yours, it seems," Dee said, smiling secretively. "Things looking better after this morning?"

  "This morning?" Julia thought for a second before remembering the men who had come to see the house. "Oh, yes, much better! We'll figure something out about the house, I'm sure of it." While the situation with the mortgage was as bleak as ever, the burst of energy that Damien's attention had given Julia made her certain that good things were going to happen soon.

  "So who's this lucky boy who makes my granddaughter come up the steps in a hop, skip, and a jump?" Dee said. "Come, sit on the bench here and tell me all about him."

  Julia sat down, sorting through the rose clippings for buds to make a small table centerpiece, and described Damien to her grandmother. Granny Dee listened and smiled and asked all of the right questions.

  "He sounds like a very nice person," she said. "You say he's blind? Was he born that way?"

  "I'm not sure," Julia said. "I didn't ask him."

  "It's a shame he won't be able to see your pretty face," Dee said, chucking Julia under the chin with her gloved finger. "But I suppose he'll be able to figure out what you look like by touch." She winked, and Julia blushed hard.

  She hadn't thought about it, but Damien would have to touch her soon. So far he had only touched her hand, her arm. He had no idea what she looked like. A nagging worry crept up the back of Julia's mind. What if he didn't like her after he touched her and found out what she looked like? Was she misleading him by not telling him? She shook the thoughts away. They would just have to deal with that when they came to it.

  "I'm going to go for a walk out back," Julia said. "Here." She handed her grandmother the small bouquet of buds she'd picked out.

  "Thank you," Dee said. "These will look lovely on the table for breakfast tomorrow."

  "I'll see you in a bit," Julia said, kissing Granny Dee on the cheek before walking around the house and toward the woods in the back.

  Julia loved the broad meadow in the backyard, especially on hot summer nights like this one. The fireflies danced over the long grass, winking their warm yellow lights on and off. She walked out into the darkness until she was among them in the field. The lights coming from the house windows were only slightly bigger and brighter than the fireflies, and when she looked out toward the woods she felt as though she was in the middle of a tornado of lights, the blinking bugs swirling around her. One blinked, went out, then blinked again, closer. She squinted to try and see the firefly against the darkening sky, and then it blinked again, right in front of her. She quickly brought her hands up and caught the firefly between her cupped palms. She could feel its small legs tickling the inside of her palm, the place where Damien had first touched her.

  What would he do when they finally embraced? She dreamed about Damien touching her, feeling her curves, her wide hips. His hands ran over her and in her mind she saw him grimace, recoil from her body. Her heart sank.

  "No," she whispered. "He wouldn't do that." But the fragment of doubt that had worried its way under her skin continued to irritate her, and she could not envelop herself in the same daydreams that she had spent the morning contemplating. She brought her cupped hands up and peeked through the small opening between her thumbs. The firefly lit up her hands just then, casting a warm glow through her fingers. She spread her fingers wide and let it go, but the firefly continued to walk on her skin, over her thumb and onto her wrist, then back to her palm. A strange feeling ran through her, the same feeling she'd had of being watched in the library.

  "Go on, little bug," she said, lifting her hand up. She blew the firefly off toward the woods as though she was blowing a kiss, and then she froze.

  Amid the glow of a hundred fireflies, there were two small golden lights that did not move. As she watched, they stayed lit, not blinking off after a few seconds the way that fireflies always did.

  "Hello?" she called out, then felt stupid for it. She took a step forward and blinked, rubbing her eyes. No, it wasn't a mistake—the tiny lights continued to shine from inside of the woods.

  A cold chill ran through her body. Was there some kind of animal out there? She'd heard that there were deer around here, but she'd seen deer before and these were not a deer's eyes. She began to step slowly backwards, keeping the yellow lights in her sight at all times.

  "Julia? Did you call out?"

  Julia spun towards Granny Dee's voice. Her grandmother was standing on the porch, a basket of cut roses in her hands. Julia turned back quickly to see the gold lights, but they were gone. Her eyes darted everywhere, thinking that one of the pinpoints of gold floating in the darkness must be them, but none of the lights stayed on for more than a couple of seconds. It was only fireflies.

  "It was nothing," Julia said, walking back towards the house and up onto the porch. "I just thought I saw an animal out there in the forest."

  "Deer?"

  "No, I'm not sure what it was," Julia said. Her grandmother had always told her that the woods were safe—there weren't any large predators around the area—but she couldn't explain what her gut told her about the lights in the darkness. What she had imagined about the eyes.

  Because she had thought, in the first instant she saw them, that they looked like the eyes of a wolf.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Damien

  "It's this way."

  Kyle led the pack running through the woods in wolf form, with Katherine and Damien following and Jordan trailing behind them. They were always cautious, even if there was no other sign of wolf scent. The pine trees smelled fresh in the coolness of the morning air, and the dead leaves underneath crackled satisfyingly under their paws as they ran.

  They communicated in short yelps and growls whenever they had to, but in wolf form most of their discussion was implicit, instinctive. One look could speak more than a hundred words. When they came close to the place Kyle had scouted yesterday, he slowed and turned toward the rest of the group.

  "This one. Only a mile now."

  As the wolves crested the last hill and moved down toward the house in the middle of the clearing, Damien began to feel a strange presence. He stopped short and Katherine stopped next to him.

  "What's wrong?"

  "I'm not sure. Let's be careful."

  Kyle circled back and they trotted together in a more tightly knit group to the edge of the field where the house stood. Damien recognized what the presence was, and in that same instant the wind shifted and he smelled her perfume, a hint of violet.

  Julia.

  Katherine swiveled her head toward him, nudging his shoulder with her snout, but he ignored her.

  "Trouble?" Jordan asked, coming up on his other side.

  "Is the entrance to the state park nearby?" Damien asked.

  "Just over the next hill, off a bit to the east," Kyle said.

  "How far?"

  "I'm not sure," Kyle admitted. "I circled around last night, so it might be closer
than I thought."

  "Take Katherine there and figure out the distance," Damien said, sitting back on his haunches.

  Kyle was eager to run with Katherine, and they took off at a brisk pace through the trees.

  "Change your mind about your competition?" Jordan asked. His voice was cautious.

  "I wanted to talk alone," Damien said. "But first let's go closer to the house. You visited it yesterday?"

  "It's old, ready to be torn down," Jordan said. "Shouldn't be too much of an issue, except that the sellers are stubborn."

  "That's what Kyle said," Damien said. They wove their way through the trees toward the clearing. The rising sun sent rays shimmering warmly through the branches over their heads, and small flying insects swarmed in clouds, reflecting the light of dawn and tickling their fur whenever they moved through a bunch of them. Suddenly Damien heard the crack of a door opening, and the smell of violets grew stronger. His heart swelled with the now-familiar ache for a mate.

  "Who is that?" he asked, knowing already what the answer was going to be.

  "It's a girl," Jordan said. He sensed the change in Damien's demeanor, and his fur bristled. "Why are you—"

  "It's her," Damien said.

  "Who?"

  "The girl I met at the library."

  Jordan turned his eyes back to the house.

  "She's not a wolf. She has no scent," he said.

  "You're probably right."

  "I know I'm right," Jordan said. He sniffed. "She didn't want to sell the house."

  "What does she look like?" Damien asked. Desperate hope flooded through him, despite Jordan's words. She might not be a wolf, but she was his mate. He knew it now more than ever, in his wolf form.

  "She's not very tall," Jordan said, smelling Damien's lust and realizing on the surface what it meant. "Red hair. Green eyes. A bit on the heavy side. Fair skin with freckles. Damien—"

  "I just want to know," Damien said.

  "Well, it's no wonder she's attracted to you," Jordan said, sniffing. "You're out of her league."

  Damien growled, and Jordan stayed silent for a moment.

  "She doesn't want to sell the house?" Damien asked.

  "It's a foreclosure. Two months before they even start the eviction process," Jordan said. "I'm guessing they'll stay as long as possible, but they'll be kicked out eventually."

  "That's a shame," Damien murmured.

  "She could be persuaded," Jordan said. "You could convince her."

  "We can find another place," Damien said. He couldn't manipulate Julia.

  "We need a place now, and none of the others border the state park," Jordan said. "This area is perfect."

  "Then we could stay here for a while," Damien said.

  "Stay here? Where? In the woods?"

  "We could camp out until they're evicted. We don't need to force her out."

  "If you want to settle down here, Damien, you need to settle down."

  "I want to settle. More than you know."

  "To ask the pack to wait another month or two, when we don't have to... it's unwise."

  "They'll do what I tell them to do," Damien said.

  "You've always done what's best for the pack," Jordan said. His voice growled low, a warning. "And what's best for the pack right now is for you to settle down with Katherine and start your family. This is the only place we've found worth settling on."

  Damien closed his mouth. He had been going to say something, but he knew Jordan would not want to hear his protests.

  "Damien—"

  "You're right. I'll talk to her," Damien said. He would have to figure something out, and fast. Katherine was already beginning to bother him about mating.

  "Good."

  "This is a good place," he said, nodding slowly. "A good place for our pack."

  "Let's go find Kyle and Katherine before they run off together," Jordan said. Damien growled but followed him. The pack was thrilled to have found a place so suitable, and they spent the rest of the day relaxing in celebration. Damien begged off of going out with the rest of them, saying that he needed to figure out how to best organize the move. Jordan lingered behind in the room.

  "You'd better decide what you're going to do," Jordan said, a pointed tone in his voice.

  "About?"

  "You know damn well what about. The girl. The one who's not a wolf."

  "I'll do what's best for the pack," Damien said dryly. "Don't I always?"

  "I'm worried about you," Jordan said. "And I'm worried that you've stopped keeping an eye on Katherine and Kyle."

  "I trust you to do that," Damien said, the finality in his voice telling Jordan that that was the end of the conversation.

  That night he tossed and turned before falling asleep, memories of the pack and of Julia swirling in his mind. When he finally closed his eyes, he dreamed about finding Katherine in the snow.

  In his dream, it was a year and a half ago, and the scars through his eyes had not yet healed. Damien and Jordan had been walking the edge of two territories, trying to avoid either pack. Damien would often stumble over rock outcroppings. He had not yet grown accustomed to navigating with his other senses. The snow made the progress slow going, but they needed to avoid going through any territories owned outright by a wolf pack.

  Their plan almost worked, except that the two adjacent packs had been fighting on the border. When Damien and Jordan began to smell the scent of blood and wolves more strongly, they almost turned back. But there was no better path, and the winter had made them weak. Damien's eyes leaked, his fur sticky.

  "The scent is strong," Jordan said.

  "It could be the fight," Damien said. "That would release more scent into the air. They could already be gone."

  "Perhaps," Jordan growled. "I hope you're right."

  "If anything happens, run north," Damien said softly.

  "And you?" Jordan asked.

  "I'll follow you," Damien said. He knew that Jordan was a faster runner, and that there was no way he could keep up. Jordan knew it too, but he kept his mouth shut.

  . Although at the time he had been blind, he saw himself now in his dream as though he was an invisible bystander. In bed, Damien twisted the sheets between his hands. He knew what he would see soon, and it wasn't a nice picture.

  They stopped to roll against some small pine trees. The sharp smell of the pine might help to camouflage them in case the packs hadn't yet gone far. They walked on resolutely. The scents grew stronger and stronger, and any crackling of a branch stopped them in their tracks. It was slow going. In one narrow passageway, the scent of wolves grew so strong that Damien thought that he might bolt at the slightest sound. There was no other way. They padded through the snow in silence, rounding the corner where the passageway opened up.

  It was the scene of the fight. Blood had stained the ground in dark puddles and bright splashes where the snow drifts hadn't yet melted, and the smell overpowered Damien's nostrils. Dead bodies of wolves lay strewn across the clearing, their fur damp with blood and the sweat that had not yet dried from their bodies. As they stepped slowly through the clearing, Damien's paws occasionally brushed against the corpses and he would draw back.

  "Recent fight," Jordan said.

  Damien sniffed the air, swiveling his head. He thought he scented—he thought he heard—

  "Wolf," he said, moving closer to Jordan. "Somewhere close. Do you hear the breathing?"

  Jordan paused and listened. Damien's muscles were tense, his body crouched and ready to fight if need be. The breathing grew louder, and then there was a whimper.

  "Is that...?" Jordan said.

  "What? What is it?" Damien twitched, his tail bristling, his teeth bared.

  "It's one of the bodies," Jordan said, and then he trotted away from Damien's side. Damien followed his footsteps towards the source of the breathing noise.

  "She's not dead," Jordan said, stopping short of the body. "She's a young one."

  The wolf was laying on her side. Damien
pushed past Jordan and sniffed over her wound. It was deep. She had been sliced open the entire way across her stomach by sharp teeth or claws. Her intestines were exposed, blood puddling and matting her fur down. Damien could smell her fear.

  "Please—"

  Damien flinched at the sound. He had not expected her to be able to talk. From the wound, she seemed close to death. She growled softly, a low purr that made its way through Damien's nerves and tore at his heart.

  "If you want to eat me, please kill me first."

  "Where did the other wolves go?" Jordan asked. "Which direction?"

  The female wolf breathed sharply in, wincing in pain.

  "We can help you," Damien said. He turned his head to Jordan. "You can help, can't you?" He could hear Jordan beside him, examining her wound.

  "You can't help me," the girl wolf said. "I'm dying. I tried to shift..."

  "Why? You would die of cold," Damien said, confused.

  "That's what I'd hoped," she said. Despite her pain, there was a note of humor in her voice. "Better than dying of this."

  "What's your name?" Damien asked.

  "Katherine." Katherine lay her head back onto the snow, breathing deeply. "It's almost time."

  "What can you do?" Damien asked Jordan.

  "You can't do anything," Katherine said. "I saw what happened. I won't live. My stomach..."

  "I might be able to help," Jordan said, licking the edge of her wound. "I'm a doctor. What direction did the other wolves go?"

  "Northeast," Katherine said. There was a hint of fright in her voice, as though hope had given her reason to fear. "The other pack went due south; that's where their territory is."

  "We need to get her somewhere warm," Jordan said. "I need to be able to shift. This is going to be delicate work."

  "There was an empty cabin a few miles back," Damien said. "I could carry her."