by V. Vaughn
Oh, Brindle. My throat tightens as I think about how foolish I’ve been. I still love him as much as I did that night, and I don’t know why I couldn’t see it before. Brindle is my mate, and I’ll never be happy with anyone else.
I get up off the bed and search for my phone in my bag. Brindle still hasn’t replied, and I text him. “I really need to see you.”
CHAPTER SIX
After I have dinner with my parents, Devon stops by. I squeal when I notice her cherry-red Volkswagen outside. Devon comes up to the porch to say hello to my mom and dad. I give my friend a big hug when I open the door. “Cool ride.”
“Thanks. I look pretty hot in it.”
I step back to take in her appearance. “Yes, red is your color.”
She giggles as she walks into my house. “Hey, Mr. and Mrs. Winslow.”
My mom says, “Devon, you look fantastic. I want to hear all about your salon.”
My friend gushes on about her new business, and my mom promises to stop by and get her hair done while my dad peppers her with questions about the finances. I grin with pride when Devon handles it like a professional instead of the giddy teenager that used to come over.
After I think she’s had enough, I cut in. “Dev, this hair’s not getting any more fabulous yet.”
She chuckles and follows me to the door as my parents tell her goodbye. As we make our way to her car, I ask, “So, any new men in town?”
“Nope. And it seems only the truck club stuck around instead of going to college.”
In high school, there was a whole group of guys with monster-like trucks they would park on the banking along the edge of the student parking lot. In the winter, they’d drive up over the snow that had been plowed, as if the higher they could get meant the bigger their dick. They’d been nicknamed “the truck club,” but once I became a werewolf, I discovered who those guys really were.
I want to warn her, and I say, “Be careful of those guys, Dev.”
She cuts her eyes at me and stiffens. “Have you talked to Brindle lately?”
We’ve stopped at a traffic light, and I notice the serious face of the passenger in the car waiting in the lane next to Devon. “Kind of. We’re supposed to get together tomorrow, but I haven’t heard back from him.” Devon’s mouth is tight, and I ask, “You know something, don’t you?”
She sighs and nibbles her lip quickly before glancing at me. “Don’t be mad I didn’t say something sooner, but he’s been dating someone.”
My stomach lurches. “Who? Wait, don’t tell me.” I feel like such an idiot. No wonder he hasn’t replied. I suppose I should be grateful he doesn’t plan to break my heart via text.
My friend reaches for my hand. “I’m sorry. I know you still care about him.”
I shake my head because Devon knows we had plans to get married and that I freaked out at the last minute. She just doesn’t know about the werewolf part. “I suppose it was bound to happen. I mean, I did break up with him almost a year ago.”
“But it still has to hurt. He was the love of your life, Katie.”
I turn to face out my window so she doesn’t see the tears in my eyes. “I guess I’ll have to find another one.”
Gravel grinds under her tires as we pull into the strip mall parking lot where her salon is. “Or we’ll make you look so hot he’ll be unable to resist you.”
I sniff and turn to my friend. “Work your magic.”
An hour later, I have tinfoil sticking up off my head, and I swing in my chair to face Devon. Ever since she told me about Brindle dating someone else, I can’t stop thinking about my fear that I’m pregnant. “I have something to tell you. About two months ago, Brindle came to see me, and we hooked up.”
“No!”
I nod. “I came back this summer thinking we could try again.” My friend’s face falls in sympathy, and I continue. “But it gets worse.” I lean forward and whisper as if there’s someone who might hear my fear. “I might be pregnant.”
“Oh my God. How late are you?”
“More than a month.”
Devon jumps up and checks the timer. “Well, let’s find out for sure. I’m going to go get a pregnancy test. I’ll be right back.”
“Stop. You can’t. Everyone’s going to think you’re pregnant.”
She grins at me. “Not if they don’t know who I am.” Devon walks over to a wig display and pulls one off a head to put it on. She grabs sunglasses from her purse and poses for me. “How do I look?”
I chuckle. “Like you’re wearing a wig and pretending you’re famous.”
“Good.” She’s clutching her wallet and taps me on the shoulder as she moves toward the door. “I’ll be right back.”
A half hour later, I yell from the bathroom, “Who makes these things? I just peed all over my hand.”
“Well then, don’t forget to wash up when you’re done,” says Devon. “Bring it out here. I’ve started the timer.”
I carefully rinse the handle end of the pregnancy test and wash my hands. Devon pats the chair I was in earlier. “Sit. I’ll blow out your hair as we wait.” She retrieves the test stick from me and sets it on the counter where we both can see it.
The pink cape snaps around my neck as Devon prepares me for my blow-dry. I ask, “What am I going to do if I’m pregnant?”
My head jerks as she pulls a comb through my wet strands. “Hush. We’ll deal with that when we find out in less than a minute.”
I pick up the pink plastic and check the window. There’s the faintest plus sign, and it’s confirmed in my mind. “I’m pregnant.”
Devon’s phone’s stopwatch dings, and she looks, too. “Yup, you are. And I’m going to be right by your side through the whole thing.” She flips on the blow-dryer and works on my hair. I’m not sure if she’s doing it to figure out a plan or if she wants to let me process the news before we discuss it.
Okay, so I’m going to have a baby. And this child will be a werewolf and part of the pack. I’m not up on all the rules, but I’m pretty sure it means my fate with Brindle is now more than sealed, and I’m going to have to accept my altered state. I can’t imagine werewolves have their babies in traditional hospitals when we’re not supposed to exist in the human world.
But what if Brindle really has fallen for someone else? I don’t want to be with him if he no longer wants to be with me. Piss on a pretzel. I guess I need to find out how into this girl he really is.
The roar of the dryer stops, and Devon flips my hair to the front of my shoulders for me to see. Honey-brown highlights glisten in my locks, and I smile. “It looks fabulous.”
“I know.” My friend removes my cape and sits in the chair beside me, and we both swing to face each other. Devon asks, “What do you want to happen? Like the ideal end game here.”
What I’ve known since last May. “Brindle and I get married and start a family.”
Devon stands and pulls a rollaway stool close to me so she can sit on it. She pulls open a drawer and removes a makeup kit. “I’m going to teach you how to do smoky eyes, because tomorrow you’re going to tell Brindle you’re pregnant, and he’s going to take one look at you and realize you’re the woman he’s meant to be with. It’s all going to work out, you’ll see.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
My friend’s cool finger lifts my chin, and I close my eyes as she rubs foundation on my face. “Then you and I will become lesbian lovers and raise your child together.”
I open my eyes to her grin. “You’d give up your chance at landing Thor for me?”
She winks at me. “In a heartbeat.”
I let my friend show me how to make my eyes smolder, and I think about how nice it would be if Devon turned werewolf, too. It’s a selfish fantasy I let myself have as I avoid the reality of my situation for a little while longer.
CHAPTER SEVEN
After my fun evening with Devon, I’m on my bed and staring at the ceiling. The moon is almost full, and even though I turned off the lig
ht, the moon’s bright glow illuminates my room. Brindle still hasn’t replied about tomorrow, and I assume he doesn’t want to see me, so I begin to wonder about what my life as a single mother will be like.
A quiet howl that seems close makes me get up and look out my window. A wolf is on the edge of the trees that make up a sparse forest behind our house. He looks right at me, and I’m mesmerized by his eyes. Brindle.
I tiptoe down the staircase and skip the creaky fifth step so I can sneak out without waking my parents. Once I’m through the back door, the wolf approaches me. I’ve seen Brindle in his animal state only twice, but I’d recognize the white fur tipped with black anywhere. I reach out toward him, and he ducks his head for me in an invitation to stroke him.
The grass is wet with dew under my knees when I get down to be face to face with my mate. He nuzzles my neck, and I whisper, “Shift for me. I want to see it.”
He walks in a circle and huffs a few times before his human form begins to take over. Bones crack, but he doesn’t appear to be in pain, and seeing the smirk on his face when he’s done makes me chuckle. He says, “I think you want me naked.”
I step forward and place my hand on the taut skin of his chest to drag my fingers down to his abs. “I do like you that way.”
“I like you that way, too.”
I push him into the woods and out of eyesight in case either of my parents happened to look outside and see us. “Is that an invitation?”
Brindle lifts my shirt, and I raise my arms so he can pull it over my head. A gentle breeze flows over my naked breasts, and my nipples harden. They’re incredibly sensitive, and I tremble as I slide out of my boy shorts. A low growl comes from Brindle, and he drops to his knees. “You smell better than when you were in heat. How’s that possible?”
I should tell him I’m pregnant. But when his mouth lands on my stomach and he starts to kiss his way down, I lose my ability to think and let my head fall back as I moan. He makes his way between my legs, and I thread my fingers through his long hair and stumble back a step to steady myself against a rock. Lichen scratches at my skin, but the discomfort is trivial compared to the bliss I’m experiencing. I’m close to the edge and push him away. “I need you inside of me.”
Brindle stands. “You don’t have to ask me twice.” He turns me to face the rock. I place my hands on it and bend at the waist to assist his entrance.
I hiss when he thrusts into my sensitive channel, and I quake around him. His hands are on my hips, and I push back in rhythm with his motions. My climax tears through me, and an animalistic noise rumbles from my throat. My wolf claws at me to be let out, and I no longer want to fight it.
I haven’t shifted since the one time I tried after first being changed. I recall the agony of my bones breaking. I’ve fought the urge during the days surrounding every full moon for a year now, and I inhale a deep breath, thinking I can squelch it once again. But something’s different this time, and the pungent odor of our mating fills my senses when I inhale, making me lose control.
I whisper, “No.” My skin stretches, and a crunching noise sounds as my skeletal system adjusts. I wait for the pain that doesn’t come. I experience nothing more than discomfort as my teeth extend, and hair grows on the surface of my skin.
My wolf is free, and she makes me nip at Brindle’s outstretched hand as he stares at me in wonder. I take off in a run for him to chase me. It takes me a moment to adapt to the height at which I view the forest as my legs propel me at a speed I can only dream about as a human. Brindle must have shifted quickly because he’s at my heels, and he returns my playful gesture by bumping into me before coming up to run alongside me. A large rock the size of a car appears, and I hop on top of it with ease.
Brindle jumps up, too, and we both sit. I lean against him, and he speaks in my head the way mates do. “You’re so beautiful.”
I lift my paw to gaze at it. I have silver-white fur with a touch of gray at the tips. I turn to him and ask, “What color are my eyes?”
“The blue-gray color of an impending storm. The other girls are going to be jealous.”
I think to ask him about the one he’s dating, but I don’t want to ruin this moment. I’m actually enjoying my wolf state. I nip at Brindle’s shoulder and jump off the rock to run again. We continue a version of tag as we tear through the woodlands. I marvel in my physical abilities as a wolf and the stamina I have.
We stop when a series of howls calls us. The pull to go to them is strong, but my human is hesitant, and I nudge Brindle with my snout before heading back home. I’m not ready to join the pack. When we’re back at my house, Brindle watches as I circle my clothing, and I focus on being human the way he taught me. It takes me a few minutes, but I give it time to happen.
The sensation of shrinking and then growing is still uncomfortable but not a feeling that would keep me from shifting again, and I welcome the knowledge. As I stand naked in the completion of my transformation, Brindle comes to me and rubs his head against my stomach. His fur is soft, and I thread my fingers through it as I pull more of his body against mine. “Can I be a wolf again tomorrow?”
He licks my belly, and I quiver under his rough tongue. “I’ll take that as a yes. Thank you.” When I release Brindle, he nips my bare butt gently, and I squeal before he runs away.
The cool, damp cotton of my T-shirt slithers over me as I get dressed. I should have asked about his new girlfriend, and I really need to tell my mate that he’s about to be a father. Wiggling into my sleep shorts, I vow I’ll do it tomorrow. My feet pad softly over the grass, and I slip back into my house. I can’t help the huge grin that covers my face as I remember the way I ran through the forest with amazing speed and agility. And the way Brindle’s body felt when he made love to me.
I almost forget to skip the fifth step on my way back to bed as I control the desire to squeal with excitement about my newly found joy over being a werewolf. My chilled legs welcome the warmth of my comforter when I slide in between the sheets and relive my adventure. Just after I doze off, my phone vibrates on my nightstand, and I grab it to find a text from Brindle.
“Don’t worry. Tonight didn’t change anything.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
I’ve spent my day on pins and needles, because this time, when the urge to shift gnaws at me later tonight, I know I’m going to give in and answer it. Brindle isn’t coming to me until midnight, and I keep myself busy with weeding the gardens and helping my mother create the window box planters she favors every year. The rich earth from her compost pile sifts through my fingers, and I pick out twigs and the occasional worm as the dank aroma floats up.
“I’m so proud of Devon,” says Mom. “She did a wonderful job on your hair.” My mother shakes the roots of a plant clean. “I remember how she could spend hours giving you hairdos and plastering your face with too much makeup.”
“I’m pretty impressed with her, too. She asked me to work as a receptionist for her this summer, and she wants me to work part time when I go back to school in the fall.”
“That’s a great idea. When you start, book me for my first appointment.”
“Devon will be so flattered. And if I know you the way I do, you’ll not only be switching to her salon, but also you’ll bring ten or so friends along.”
“Well, it’s time for Melanie to retire. I’m not sure she sees very well these days. Nancy Milton’s hair is practically orange right now, and nobody has the heart to tell her.”
I chuckle because Nancy is partially blind and hard of hearing. I mimic her voice and guess at what she might think Nancy said instead of “My hair is too orange.” “You think my ear is too foreign?”
My mom plays along. “Oh! My chair is deformed?”
We carry on until we’re laughing hard enough our stomachs hurt. We spend most of the day giggling at silly things only the two of us find amusing. My father arrives home from work to find us on the porch steps covered in dirt, sweat, and tears. His feet thump up the woode
n stairs. He says, “I see your mother has her best friend back.” He stops and rubs the top of my head. “Good to have you home, Katie.”
He says to my mom, “I’m going to go for a run before dinner.”
My mom asks, “Should we eat at six thirty?”
“Sounds good.”
When my dad leaves, my mom leans into me. “Want to talk about Brindle?”
I replay the memory of us in the woods last night. Sure, Mom. Remember prom? Well, that night, I let Brindle turn me into a werewolf, thinking I wanted to be with him forever. But then I didn’t. So now I struggle with the full moon every month because it makes me want to shift. Oh, and there’s this little problem with mating season, too. I sigh. “There’s not much to talk about. Devon says he’s dating someone.”
“That may be, but he’s still in love with you. Every time I run into him, I see it in his eyes when he asks how you are.”
“And I’m still in love with him.” I lean my head on her shoulder. “But I might have figured it out too late.”
“It’s not too late. As much as I wanted you to explore your options, I think being away from Brindle this year didn’t change a thing, did it? He’s still the one.”
She’s partially right, because he is still the one. But what my mom doesn’t know is that being away this year was a good thing. It gave me time to grow up and realize I can’t run from what I am. I just hope I haven’t made my situation worse by pushing away the reason I changed.
My mother hugs me tight. “It’ll all work out. These things always do.”
I hug her back and wish I had the same optimism. “I’m going to go shower. I’ll be down to help with dinner when I’m done.”
Metal clashes when I gather the garden tools to store them in the garage. When I get there, the heat of a sunny day has made the enclosed space sweltering. I scan the well-organized area and smile when I see my tricycle hanging from the ceiling. I know my father is saving it for a grandchild, and I place my hand on my stomach, wondering if I’ll have a boy or a girl.
