Cursed

by Shawntelle Madison

  “Sure—although I don’t know why you’d try to slip a lie past me.”

  Yeah the truth was in my scent, in my breaths. I was exposed to him. “In the fall I thought a new start outside of a small town would be good, but college has been overwhelming at times.”

  He nodded. I couldn’t see his face.

  I kept going. “It’s not even the coursework. It’s the humans…I guess I’ve lived in a small town for too long.”

  “Humans are the same anywhere you go. Adapting is hard, but I believe you’re more than capable.”

  Talking seemed the best way to fill the time so I kept the conversation going. It was nice to learn more about him. “When was the last time you came here with family?” I asked him.

  “A long time ago but I came here with my old man.”

  Now that was someone I knew personally. Every werewolf in South Toms River knew him. As the pack leader, his father controlled the pack with an iron paw. He didn’t tolerate having weak members slow us down, and I considered myself one of those people.

  Just thinking about that man soured my mood, but when I took in my surroundings again those bitter feelings faded. The forest floor began to clear up and now rocky outcroppings peppered the landscape. Hills, and even mountains covered in greenery, stretched out in the distance. This kind of place reminded me a bit of Double Trouble State Park.

  We walked for what seemed like an hour or so before I smelled burnt wood, but there wasn’t any sign of a smoke trail in the air. No one was there.

  We traveled uphill for a bit until we reached a clearing.

  “Wow.” I glanced around.

  “Isn’t it perfect?” he asked.

  I nodded. We could see for miles in every direction. Even the Fourth Run creek he’d mentioned earlier. We’d walked a long way, and we couldn’t see the campgrounds or the parking lot anymore. We were truly alone.

  It was about time.

  “So you and your dad used to setup camp here?” I asked him.

  He nodded. “A very long time ago.”

  I checked out the camp. A set of rocks formed a large circle around a firepit. There were already ideal spots for tent placement. Smaller trees nearby could provide kindling.

  “How come more people haven’t used this spot? I smell only werewolves here.”

  “Humans have used this spot before, but not too often. During the winter, the wind gets really cold and brisk. During the summer time, they aren’t many places for shade so anybody who comes here will get baked.”

  “Crispy humans...”

  He chuckled. “I guess you could say that.”

  With only my backpack to keep me company, I tried to play things cool as Thorn began assembling our tenet. Yep, you heard that right. There was only one tent for the both of us.

  “How many people can sleep in there?” I asked as I began to gather tinder for a fire. Standing there watching him work would only make me more nervous.

  “There’s enough room for two to three.” The small smile he gave me set my heart aflutter.

  “You’re not a cover hog, are you?” I had to say something to keep things light.

  “I like to stay warm. You gonna help me do that?”

  I shook my head with a grin.

  Thorn finished the tent while I placed large pieces of wood in the firepit. I wished I had more things. Like a tea pot, a sweater, more clothes, a pot in case I wanted to check something…

  “Hey Nat, could you come here for a second?”

  I found Thorn getting the fire going. “What’s up?”

  “How long you gonna sit over there by yourself?”

  “Just doing an inventory check.”

  “As long as you’re not studying.”

  I snorted. “I have the notorious Dr. Foster this semester. If I’m smart, before the semester is over I’ll figure out a way to study in my sleep.”

  “Professor Freak Out?”

  “That’s him.”

  Thorn laughed. “I know someone who had him in the fall. The guy said he’s traumatized from all the homework he had.”

  “All the other sociology classes were full so I’m stuck with Professor Foster.”

  “My condolences.”

  I shrugged. “I do fine.”

  “I got that idea. You always seem to keep to yourself at the library or a nook somewhere.”

  I was crouched, and he used his index finger to push against my shoulder.

  “Hey!” I fell over with a laugh.

  Our fun ended when a few hot pieces of wood sparked and leapt out of the pit. Thorn jumped over and stomped them out.

  I had questions, but I’d held them in. We had a whole two days out here and the thought of being here without knowing why he asked me to come with him was unnerving. He could’ve gone home. He could’ve stayed on campus and figured out how he’d hunt outside of the city. And yet, for some reason, he didn’t do that. He wanted me here with him.

  “So...Thorn,” I managed to ask. “I was wondering how come—”

  The sound of others’ voices cut me off. It wasn’t just one voice either. I caught three women and one man. The moment they came over the hill and approached our camp, my assessment was correct.

  Two blondes, in nothing more than T-shirts and cut-off shorts, approached the camp first. One was leggier and taller, with a dominant air about her. The two people behind them were a man and a brunette.

  All four of them were werewolves.

  Shit.

  “Hey Thorn, you beat us here,” the guy yelled.

  Thorn nodded their way. His back was to me—for which I was grateful. I wouldn’t want him to see the agitation tightening my face. Why didn’t he tell me others were coming? The werewolves had backpacks and gear. Which meant they planned to camp out with us.

  The dark-haired werewolf walked up to Thorn and shook his hand. “Long time no see.”

  “I honestly didn’t think you’d come,” Thorn replied. “You keep canceling on me. It’s been what? Five years since the pack leader gathering, Perry?”

  “Pretty much. Having the pack leaders meet more often than that is asking for a nuclear war.” Perry was as tall as Thorn, but not as handsome. He has the same long legs, lean arms, and grace the son of pack leaders have, but in the way that Thorn was calm and self-assured, Perry gave off a happy-go-lucky vibe I envied.

  “So when you gonna say hi to me?” the prettier blonde in a pink shirt and shorts asked Thorn.

  “What’s up, Erica.” Thorn nodded her way.

  I held back my smile. He didn’t just open up to anyone.

  “Who’s the stranger?” Perry looked in my direction.

  “Oh, everyone, this is Natalya. She’s from my hometown and goes to Pitt.” He turned to point to the others. “Nat, this is Perry Vaughn and his girlfriend Erica Holden. Behind them is Becky Knoll and Cassie Zimmerman.”

  Once he’d said her name, I knew who the blonde was.

  “You’re from South Toms River?” she asked me.

  I nodded.

  “Something about you seemed familiar,” she said, “but I couldn’t place it.”

  Which meant I was as memorable as a used dishrag.

  Werewolf packs are hierarchical. Those with strong positions in the upper tiers, like Thorn or Erica, rarely associated with someone like me who was about as high as a rogue.

  Perry and Thorn began to chat while Becky and Cassie sat down near the fire. Instead of joining her friends, Erica stood in front of me, effectively blocking my view. She slid her arm around her boyfriend’s waist, but her gaze settled appreciatively on Thorn.

  Her hip was tilted to the side, revealing an enticing curve. From her full breasts to her bottom that almost peeked out from under her designer jean shorts, Erica projected perfection.

  When she turned around she glanced at me. Her bright smile faded and was replaced with something else: indifference.

  For the first time in a long time, I had felt beautiful and had hope for some
thing more in my life.

  With a single gorgeous smile, Erica Holden snatched that feeling away from me.

  Chapter 3

  The look on Erica’s face could’ve been a harbinger of the beginning of the end. For me, I saw it as a challenge. I still wanted him.

  A dominant female, who already had a man, had given me a subtle signal. It might seem strange, but werewolf females use signals to communicate. Even human women are the same. We have expressions we give each other like a herd of female elephants. We do things to keep each other in line. A man might think an open smile from one woman to another was a gesture of kindness, but if he looked deeper, he’d discover it could be something else entirely. It was all about body language and women read each other as well as men.

  When Erica glanced at me, then turned her head, as well as her whole body to block my view, she projected a crystal clear message: stay back, stay hidden, I can have whomever I please.

  So I sat next to my backpack and waited for the right opportunity to slip out of my lower rank.

  The afternoon turned to evening. Perry pulled out a portable grill and Thorn prepared burgers. They laughed and chatted among themselves. This scene to me seemed surreal. Hadn’t I seen past pack events where the dominant wolves sat together and those in the lower ranks waited around them for scraps? No matter the age of the werewolf, we naturally fell in line.

  Until Thorn called for me.

  “You want a beer, Nat?” Instead of waiting for me to say no, he tossed me one.

  I looked at the can as if he’d tossed me an atomic bomb. I wasn’t too fond of beer. I was more of a wine person, but I would drink it if that was all I had.

  “Nat, you shouldn’t drink that cheap shit,” Becky said to me.

  “Let her drink it,” Erica said. “It’s probably what she’s used to.”

  “This isn’t some country club outing,” Perry said to Becky.

  Thorn crossed the clearing to the other side, grabbed my arm, and then pulled me toward the fire. I was about to place a towel on the ground, but he beat me to it. “There you go. It’s much easier to chat with you if you’re near the fire, you know.”

  “I know.” Already I’d taken the role I was supposed to have. I wasn’t looking him in the face anymore. After being with the humans for months and away from my family, the pack life had almost been forgotten. Just a few hours and I was back in the same place that reminded me how low I was.

  He sat down next to me at the fire. His side warmed mine.

  Becky and Perry weren’t done with their conversation.

  “I have to watch what I’m doing all the time,” Becky said. “I wish I could stay at Mount Holyoke forever. At least when I’m there I don’t have to think about some asshole my parents will setup as my husband.”

  “You won’t end up with someone as distinguished as Perry,” Erica said bluntly, “but I’m sure you won’t want for anything.”

  Becky gave her friend the finger. I wish I could do it, too. What did Perry see in her anyway?

  Erica played with a strand of her glossy hair. “The Holdens are moving up the ranks and my dad says once I marry I can move to D.C. permanently.”

  “If we get married,” Perry added.

  “Oh, stop. You know you like me.” She sauntered up to him, running her manicured hands down his chest. I had to glance away before I vomited.

  Perry chuckled and pulled her close. He ran his hands down her back until he cupped her bottom.

  “Okay, keep the R-rated stuff for the tent,” Thorn said with a smile.

  The two exchanged kisses before Erica found a place to sit at the fire—right next to Thorn. Perry sat on her other side. Wow, this chick was no joke. Her scent and body didn’t betray her intentions, but to me, what she wanted was loud and clear.

  Thorn, on the other hand, looked out into the darkness. His attention seemed elsewhere.

  “Is everything alright?” I asked him. There seemed to be nothing out there. Just the sounds of nocturnal wildlife emerging from their burrows. The wind was clear. On the way I hadn’t seen any suspicious tracks. My dad, one of the best trackers in the northeast, had taught me well.

  I touched his shoulder and he stiffened.

  “Sorry,” I blurted.

  “It’s probably the full moon.” He bumped his shoulder with mine. “My skin itches tonight.”

  “I know the feeling,” I admitted. Right now I felt the pull of the moon too, but the wary vibes I got off him were bothersome.

  “So Thorn, what plans do you have after Pitt?” Erica asked him with a grin.

  He shrugged. “I dunno yet. I guess whatever my old man wants me to do.”

  “He won’t be in command forever. Sooner or later, you’ll be the king...” She leaned toward him and Thorn gave me the side-eye as if to say, “Can you save me?”

  The sad grin I gave back conveyed, “I’m a life raft that will sink you, buddy.”

  Soon enough, the burgers were done and everyone ate. After that Becky made s’mores and she handed them out. Well, everyone got one after Thorn passed me his. Becky had skipped giving me one altogether.

  As Thorn was making another one, he abruptly put the stick down and came to me. He leaned close to my ear, eliciting a shiver out of me. His whisper was so low, I had to strain everything else out to hear him.

  “Pack your bag, Nat.” I moved back from having him so close, but he grabbed my shoulder.

  “Wha?”

  “Just do it.” He touched my cheek. “Don’t worry. I got you. Right?”

  I nodded.

  “That’s my girl.”

  I wiped off my hands and picked up the towel I left on the ground.

  “Where’s she going?” Cassie asked Erica.

  “I don’t care,” she replied. “Maybe to bed.”

  I ignored the comments and kept going. I glanced into the darkness, seeing nothing. Why was Thorn so upset? I ran to my pack and began gathering the items I’d pulled out. My sleeping bag. The sanitary wipes I placed beside them. The sweater I planned to wear when I lay next to Thorn.

  A yip drew my attention toward the bonfire. The others scattered.

  Something had entered the clearing.

  Chapter 4

  Rogue werewolves tore through the clearing. Dozens of males emerged from the shadows. Thorn and I had made a grave error. The rogues had grown in numbers and now we were in the wrong place at the wrong time. With two dominant males in our group to boot.

  Werewolves roaming without a pack leader to guide them lived on mostly instinct. Many lived outside of the cities and kept to themselves—unless they gathered in enough numbers to form another pack.

  “Kill the men,” I heard a man yell. “Subdue the females!”

  One burst through our tent and grabbed me by the arm. I snarled and snapped at him, but he didn’t let me go. He tried to drag me toward the edge of the clearing, but I dug in my heels and yanked back hard.

  “Pretty female,” the dark-haired man sneered.

  Fyodor Stravinsky hadn’t raised a wilting flower.

  Also, this rotten bastard smelled god-awful, and he’d grabbed me with a slimy hand. Instead of dwelling on the wet stuff that slid down my arm, I sprang on him. We crashed to the grass and tumbled a bit, getting tangled in arms and legs while he tried to subdue me and I tried to punch his face.

  His arms got close to my mouth. The scrappy wolf in me lurched in to bite, but I cringed instead. Thankfully, my wolf won and I bit his ass.

  “Bitch!” The rogue grabbed me by the neck and shook hard. All around us, more fighting erupted. Where was Thorn? Was he all right?

  I tried to look to the right toward the clearing, but the grip on my neck was tightening.

  With effort I managed to free my legs and I kicked him hard in his junk. The rogue grimaced and released my neck. That brief pause was long enough for me to swing my elbow across his chin. Once his head came down, I slammed my clasped fists onto the middle of his back. That sweet
spot always took my younger brother down. Once my attacker fell over, I thought I was free, but another rogue came for me. I sprinted off into the darkness. Like the fool I was, I’d forgotten we were uphill. Naturally, I stumbled down the hill, hitting almost everything on the way down.

  A rock on the side of my neck. (Hello, hard place.)

  The unforgiving ground scraped skin on my back. (Carpet burn, anyone?)

  And finally the coup de grâce, I crashed into a tree in the pitch-black forest below the clearing.

  Oh, God I was messed up. Stars swam along my peripheral vision, but I forced myself to get up and keep going.

  “Don’t lay low, Natalya,” my dad would say. “Enemies are on nipping at your tail.”

  I’d always had a strong bark, but a weak bite. At this moment, I questioned whether I’d be biting anything again.

  Once I got to my feet, nausea hit and a cold sweat blanketed my back. I wobbled a bit and stumbled forward on unsteady feet. Not far from me, the fighting continued.

  Go back, Nat, I said to myself. Check on Thorn. The wolf in me had tasted blood and was eager to jump back in. I thought about returning, but Thorn would be pissed.

  He’d told me to grab my pack—which I no longer had—and run.

  I stood there for a moment, unsure what to do. I decided it was best to make a run for it. I pulled out my hair tie and left it on the ground for Thorn to track. Then I escaped.

  After running for a while, all the beer and s’mores caught up with me. My hard sprint turned into a tired ass jog. The moon was gone. Cloud cover made it hard for me to see. The shadows blended in together. I couldn’t see what I stepped in or what I touched.

  With step I made, my panic rose higher.

  A little voice, the one I kept locked away in the back of my mind, whispered that it had to have its way. I was filthy and I’d never be clean again. That filth was the reason other pack members didn’t respect me. It was the reason why I was flawed. The only way to be free was to scrub away any foreign matter until my skin bled if necessary. The wolf never won over this voice no matter now hard I tried.