Instead, she stared up at the sky.
The moon was almost full.
Teeth and Claws
Rylie woke up on the morning of the full moon with a note stuck to her loft window. Seth’s sharp handwriting was on the outside: Rylie. Her heart sped a little. Seth had been there last night while she slept. The thought made her blush.
She pulled it from the window pane.
Meet me on the trail at the big pile of rocks after curfew. Eat a lot of protein at dinner tonight. You’ll need your strength.
Rylie chewed her bottom lip as she considered his instructions. After curfew. It wouldn’t be a problem, as far as the transformation went—The Legends of Gray Mountain indicated that the changes usually began around midnight in the early moons. But sneaking out of the cabin was getting riskier and riskier.
Of course, she couldn’t change within the cabin, either. Rylie read the note one more time, then tucked it in the back of her journal.
On impulse, she tore a blank page out of the back and scribbled her own note. I’ll be there by ten. She stuck it in the window. The note was missing by the time she returned from lunch.
She felt normal during the day. Normal enough that she almost doubted any of it was real. It would be easier to think it was all fantasy—werewolves were imaginary, she couldn’t become an animal, and there was no reason to fear the changing moods of the moon. But Rylie could deny her gold-flecked eyes or the near invisible scar on her chest no more than she could deny her suddenly overpowering sense of smell.
Rylie sleep-walked through her day in a haze, desperately wishing the sun wouldn’t go down and the moon wouldn’t rise. But they did. It grew darker and darker, and she grew more anxious.
At dinner that evening, Rylie recalled Seth’s order to eat protein. Her stomach growled. She had a feeling she could eat pounds of tofu and it wouldn’t be good enough. Not tonight.
The meatloaf smelled appealing, but her disgust overrode her cravings. Rylie had seen how cows were slaughtered, and the idea of eating them was sickening. She couldn’t eat meatloaf. She just couldn’t. Rylie scarfed down as much vegetarian food as she could and tried to ignore her hunger.
Louise visited her loft at bedtime.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
Rylie forced a smile. “I’m great. I’m having fun. I love camp.”
The counselor gave her a knowing look. “If you’re having a problem, I want to help you with it. Please. You know you can talk to me.”
“Yeah, I know,” she said with false enthusiasm.
Rylie waited a few minutes after Louise left, watching the sky outside. The full moon felt different than the new moon. Instead of feeling weak and sick, the beast inside was strong.
And hungry.
Even though she had eaten a huge helping of pasta, a big salad, and her usual tofu (which came in the form of fake turkey that night), her stomach growled as if she hadn’t eaten in days. Rylie couldn’t shake the thought of rare, dripping meat.
She changed from her pajamas into a pair of shorts and a loose tank top, hoping her partial transformation wouldn’t lead to the clothes-ripping she always saw in werewolf movies. Slipping from her window feet-first, Rylie dropped to the ground outside and broke into a run.
Seth was waiting for her at the meeting place. He wore a white shirt that glowed in the night. Rylie was surprised. She had never seen him in anything but black before. “You ready?” he asked, and she nodded, unable to speak. “Come on.”
They climbed deep into the trees, scaling the mountain until the path was no longer visible and they could look down on camp. There were only a few pinpoints of light. It looked peaceful from above.
“How are we going to do this?” Rylie asked.
“I’ve got a few things in my bag to keep you away from everyone,” Seth said. “There’s this one thing I got from a sporting goods store. It makes a smell like a wolf marking its territory. If I spray it around, it should keep your attention.”
“So it’s wolf pee,” she said.
“I didn’t say it was glamorous.”
“Shouldn’t we… I don’t know… chain me to a rock or something? Aren’t I going to be super strong?”
“Stronger than usual. Do you want to be tied up?” he asked.
Rylie glanced up at the moon. Part of her gave an emphatic, “Yes!” But a much larger part of her—a part that grew bigger by the second—bristled at the thought. “No, but if you’re not going to chain me up, then how are you going to keep me out of camp? That marking stuff is only going to distract me.”
He grinned. “I have a plan. Don’t worry about it.”
She barely heard him. She couldn’t tear her eyes from the moon.
Shuddering, Rylie hugged her arms tight around her body and stepped into the shade of a tree. Tremors rippled through her bones. Her ribs and spine ached as though something was growing inside her.
“What’s happening to me?” she whispered.
“The new and full moons are different,” he said. “You change on the new moon because it makes the human weak, so the wolf emerges. On the full moon, the wolf becomes strong. It dominates you.”
“Is that something else you read? Why haven’t I seen it?”
“I can’t bring you any more books. It’s too risky.”
“It can’t be any riskier than hanging out with a werewolf,” Rylie said. He knelt to open his backpack and pulled out a flashlight, something that looked like a can of hairspray, and a bundle of black straps. “What is that?”
“It’s a muzzle,” Seth said.
She understood: the werewolf curse was transmitted by biting. He had promised to stay with her for the night, but Seth wasn’t going to risk the same fate she had.
He didn’t trust her. The knowledge stung. “I don’t want to wear it.”
“It’s only a precaution.”
“I’m not an animal, Seth, no matter what happens to my body. I will not wear that thing.”
“Rylie,” he sighed.
“No.”
“Are you going to be comfortable with your choice if you hurt someone?”
“That’s why you’re here,” she said. “You have a plan.”
“I’m going to do everything I can,” Seth said, “but this is insurance.”
Rylie shook her head. “I said no.”
He hesitated, as though considering whether he could force her to wear the muzzle or not. Rylie glared at him until he put it back in the bag. “Okay. Are you ready to start changing?”
“Not really.”
As though to point out she didn’t have a choice, her body suddenly rocked with an internal blow. Dropping to her knees, Rylie braced her hands against the forest floor. Her head throbbed.
Ready or not, the change was about to happen.
She bent forward until she could rest her forehead on her fists. Her spine arched and her stomach heaved.
“It hurts,” Rylie whimpered.
“I’ve got your back. I promise. I won’t let you bite anybody.”
Seth’s voice was far away. The trees pressed in on her. The moon seemed to swell and grow larger as its silvery rays pounded through her skin.
Footsteps. He was leaving her.
“Seth!” she cried.
Blood spattered against the pine needles. Rylie stared down at the drops as they grew bigger. Her jaw hurt, and she reached up to touch her gums. Her fingers came away slicked with blood. Her canines lengthened and sharpened against her fingertips.
With a snap, the hinge of her jaw broke. Pain lanced down her spine and Rylie threw back her head. Tears sprung to her eyes as the bones around her nose crunched and expanded beneath the skin, spreading into a thousand tiny fissures. Her flesh wasn’t elastic enough. It felt like it was tearing.
Rylie’s mouth filled with blood. She tried to spit it out, but she had no more lips. They were stretched tight across her sharp fangs.
Her fingers raked the earth. From elbow to wrist, from
knuckle to fingertip, her bones popped. The nails fell out. The claws that took their place were sharper than knives.
She was afraid. No. She was horrified. Rylie wanted to cry. There was no way she could deal with this—and definitely no way she was going to let Seth see her in such a state.
Unfortunately, Rylie was no longer in charge of her body.
Feet crunched against pine needles. Something was running from her. Running meant prey, which meant food.
The wolf was starving.
She shook the blood off herself and took a long stretch across the ground, feeling her joints pop and muscles relax. Pain wasn’t important to the wolf, and she didn’t care if her face felt like it had just been torn apart.
Sniffing the air, she detected a sour odor. Another wolf. She was in hostile territory. Pressing her nose to the bark of a tree, she breathed in every little bit of the odor. It smelled masculine and domineering, but the hormones were weak. Perhaps he could be challenged. Perhaps this could be her territory.
The smell was on another tree, and another. It led in the same direction as the pounding feet.
Some tiny part of her wanted to pursue on her hind legs—ridiculous. Dropping to all fours, she increased her pace to a trot, following the smell from tree to bush to rock.
Her prey sped up. She caught a glimpse of white between the trees, and she accelerated.
He ran, and she chased.
Rylie had become agile in the forest, but human intelligence interfered with the raw instinct that allowed her to utilize the natural paths in the wild. She was nothing compared to the wolf.
The prey was clunky and awkward, and he paused occasionally to spray pheromones on the trees. He was bright and easy to see in the dark, too.
He wanted to be chased.
It gave Rylie pause to realize Seth had deliberately made himself a target, but the wolf shoved her worries aside. Did it matter if the prey knew it was prey? It was prey nonetheless, and she was still hungry.
She angled to sweep around him, then leaped in front of his path.
He stopped. Changed direction.
The wolf jumped.
The prey absorbed the impact and rolled with her, planting his legs in her stomach to fling her over his head. She landed on her side.
Disoriented, she got up and shook herself.
He had taken the opportunity to run, and he was gone again. But she could still smell the fresh trail of pheromones.
She darted after him, and this time, she didn’t bother taking it slow to conserve energy. Her stomach was a gnawing void beneath her ribs. Prey was close. Food was close.
The wind changed direction, and she stopped. The wolf could smell people on the air. They trafficked this land, and there were a thousand interesting odors—cotton, leather, denim, sweat, human foods and human perfumes. People were the best prey of all, and there were many of them just down the trail.
“Hey!”
A metal can clattered at her feet. The wolf lowered her head to sniff it—this was the source of the pheromone trail. Boring. It wasn’t food.
She considered the human smells, and the camp below, and wondered how much human prey waited for her there.
“Hey! Hey, over here!”
Her head snapped around. The white-clad prey was higher on the mountain, waving his arms.
Baring her teeth, she ran, and he disappeared into the trees.
Something flashed in the corner of her eye. She smelled it an instant later: meaty, rich, and terrified. It was a deer separated from the herd. Helpless. Delicious. And much closer than the human.
She spun. Jumped on it.
It gave a scream as her claws sank into its hide. Her teeth tore into its flesh.
“Rylie, no! Stop it!”
Meaningless sounds.
The deer thrashed. Its legs kicked out. One cloven hoof struck her face, and she circled around to another angle. The fawn tried to get back onto its feet, but before it could she leaped once more.
She bit, and bit again. The screaming stopped.
The original prey stepped into her line of sight. He didn’t look as weak as he had smelled. He looked strong—maybe too strong for her to take tonight. Would he challenge her? Would he take her prize? Growling, she crouched over the deer to protect it.
“Oh, hell, Rylie,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
She ripped into the carcass, watching him out of the corner of her eye for any signs of attack. He only moved to step back into the trees. Good. She had her meal for the night.
Throwing her head back, she loosed a long howl. Her territory. Her prey.
And then she began to feast.
***
The sun peeked over the edge of the mountains, spilling dawn across the tree tops.
A sunbeam hit Rylie’s eyes. She tried to cover her face, but something restricted her arms. Climbing to consciousness was a battle—she felt heavy and satiated, like she had been sleeping for weeks.
The first thing she saw when she managed to open her eyelids were her hands. Ropes circled her wrists and were connected to her ankles by another rope. Rylie shuddered. Her fingers felt like they were breaking, but it was painless this time. Her claws receded and fingernails grew in their place. It was over as quickly as it had begun.
Rylie was lying under something heavy—a jacket. It was warm, buttery leather, and it smelled like the tang of metal and burning coals. She hadn’t realized it before, but that was Seth’s distinct smell.
She looked up. His face hovered over hers.
It took Rylie a minute to remember how her mouth worked. It was difficult to assemble her thoughts into words, and translate that into the necessary motions to speak. “Seth,” she finally said.
“Hey.”
Realizing she was seated on the ground with her back against his chest, Rylie decided not to move. She was much more comfortable than she had been after the last moon. “What happened? Did we do okay?”
Seth untied the ropes around her wrists and ankles. “It doesn’t matter. How do you feel?”
“I’m… good,” she said. “Really good. I feel satisfied.”
Seth’s mouth drew into a hard line. “Good.”
“Is my face normal?”
“You look fine, Rylie.”
Her nose picked up the smell of drying blood. She sat up to look around and saw Seth’s ruined white shirt a few feet away. Examining her hands once more, she found blood in the cracks of her palms and between her fingers. He must have used his shirt to wipe her off. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No. Think you can stand up?”
She was tempted to say no so she wouldn’t have to move, but Rylie knew she had to return to camp. At her nod, Seth helped her get to her feet.
“Where did the blood come from?” she asked.
“Let’s get you back to your cabin,” Seth said. He was only wearing his undershirt now, but he didn’t look bothered by the cool morning air.
“What about you? Won’t you get in trouble for being out of bed?”
He almost smiled. “They can’t send me home.”
Rylie hugged Seth’s jacket around her as they headed back to the trail. She wished she had worn pants instead of shorts. “I don’t really remember what happened last night.”
“It’s better that way,” Seth said.
He tried to shield her from something on the ground when they got to the side of the trail.
“What is that?” she asked, voice shaking. Seth didn’t respond, so Rylie pushed him aside to see the body.
It was a fawn. She could tell because of the spots on its rump and the four spindly legs. The rest of it, however, was barely recognizable. Its throat was mangled, and its chest and stomach had been torn open, leaving the ribs jutting toward the sky like bloody spears.
She could almost remember it: the smell of fur, the taste of meat, the warmth in her belly as she ate.
Rylie had killed a baby deer. It was the first meat she had eaten in years,
and she had slaughtered it with her own teeth and claws. A single eye, forever unblinking, stared out of its bloody face.
Her knees gave out. Rylie drew her legs up to her chest and buried her face in her arms. She didn’t hear Seth approach until he was crouching at her side. “It was an accident,” he said. “I let you get away.”
“I should have taken the muzzle,” she whispered.
Seth touched her hand, and Rylie wrapped her fingers around his.
Co-Ed
Rylie started throwing up in the shower.
She cupped a hand over her mouth and ran for the toilets. Rylie could hear girls whispering in a tight cluster by the sinks as she heaved. Everyone was too afraid of her now to ask if she was okay.
She didn’t want any help. Nobody could get rid of the guilt or the taste of deer in her throat.
When her stomach was finally empty, Rylie leaned her forehead against the cool porcelain and shut her eyes. The girls were still whispering. She didn’t want to face them. She wanted to vanish.
A hand laid a damp towel across the back of her neck. “Rylie? Are you all right?” The voice was kind and familiar, but it took Rylie a minute to realize it was Louise.
She nodded without opening her eyes. She didn’t feel any better. Rylie could see the fawn’s staring eye and its bloody ribs. She needed to clear the memory from her mind, not the meat from her stomach.
Louise sat with her silently until everyone else finished in the showers. “I’m going to have someone take you to the infirmary,” she said gently.
“I’m not sick,” Rylie mumbled.
“Maybe, maybe not. You can just rest.”
Unsurprisingly, Cassidy came to her side, offering her a hand to get off the floor. “Come on. Are you really sick, or are you just trying to get out of swimming this morning?”
Rylie made herself smile. “I’ve never liked swimming,” she said. It was much easier than trying to explain why she had thrown up.
After the nurse took her temperature and administered anti-nausea medication, she laid face-down on the infirmary bed and pulled the blankets over her head. Seth had said she slept after eating last night, but she was still exhausted.
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