She simply stands next tae me and hands me my brew. As we take in the beauty o’ the day, I feel yet more maself.
“Fancy a hike lass? It’s too pretty tae just stand and look at it.”
“Sure. I’m surprised Michael managed to prise you down from there at all. I’ll grab a coat and my boots.”
She sets her mug in the kitchen before disappearin’ towards the other rooms in the flat.
“That better no’ be you casting aspersions on my affiliation with sheep, lass.” I call.
“I wouldn’t dare.” Comes floating back.
When she reappears, she’s wearing sturdy walking boots and a padded jacket that looks tae be about four sizes too big and probably passes for a duvet too. I’m fine for an impromptu hike. The kind o’ boots I can get up a crag in are pretty much what I wear every day. Michael packed up my old place for me when I got sent down. He’s had all my gear in storage. I’m workin’ on findin’ somewhere o’ my own tae put it all.
“Who’s driving?”
“I will lass. Doona give me that look, I’m sure you can drive just fine. It’s a control thing.”
“That from being an Alpha or just from being a bloke?”
“Get your smart arse self out the door lass, sunlight’s wastin’.” Damn but it’s good tae see that smile.
I drive us up tae Yeoman Hey reservoir. It’s quieter than Dovestones reservoir. Being the next one up intae the moors, it’s that bit higher and the car park is further away from the reservoir itself. It’s a little less convenient and the paths are less well kept, so there’s no’ as many visitors from the towns, at least no’ for walking. The car park has a certain reputation, and even in the middle o’ the day; people are like tae look at you sideways ‘til they’ve figured out what you’re there for.
It’s a quick trek down through the shady conifer woods tae get tae the reservoir itself. There’s barely a breeze, so the surrounding ridges are reflected in the reservoir like a mirror. She’s quiet long enough that I’m a touch surprised when she speaks.
“I’ve just realised I know pretty much nothing about you at all. I know your name, that you’re friends with Michael and Donna and that you used to be the Alpha of our pack, oh, and that you’re a Celtic fan. That’s pretty much the extent of it.”
“Aye, there’s no’ much else tae know.”
“Are you from Glasgow? Or do you just follow the team?”
Yeah, I grew up there. Moved here when I was about twenty.”
“Do you mind me asking when you were turned?”
“When I was fifteen.” She actually stops walkin’ and her jaw drops. “Nay lass, it was sort o’ ma own fault.”
“Go on, how was being turned into a werewolf at fifteen your own fault?” She starts walkin’ again, but she keeps her eyes on me.
“I was a runner, one o’ the kids who keeps the guy on the street corner supplied with smack from the dealer in the flat two roads down. If the fella went out with a load o’ shite he’d get mugged for it, or if he got nicked he’d never be able tae claim personal use. So you get a kid tae leg it between you and the supply tae keep you stocked. I got gripped one night by lads from a gang that were tryin’ tae move in on our spot. Turned out one o’ them was a wolf. He bit me while we were scrappin’.”
“Hadn’t anyone else noticed what he was?”
“Nah, he was a loner. He just had a reputation for bein’ a bit o’ a biter. I doona think he’d bitten anyone else bad enough that they turned.”
“So how come you got chewed on badly enough?”
“I was winnin’.” I’m no’ exactly proud o’ how I became a wolf, but that smile on her face may just change ma view on the matter.
“And what made you decide to move away?”
“I got found, if you like, by a local pack. I stayed with them awhile. It was one o’ the fella’s from the pack that took me on as a kind o’ apprentice and trained me up as a spark. The packs are bigger there; more competition. They have a very definite peckin’ order and they doona like young pups throwin’ it out o’ line. If you’re no’ scrappin’, it’s all politics. I couldnae be arsed with it.”
“Do you still have family up there?”
“Aye, five brothers and three sisters.”
“Wow.” She genuinely looks shocked. “That’s a lot of family. Do any of them know, about the werewolf thing?”
“Nah, they’d no’ understand. We doona speak much, I was the black sheep. What about you lass, you got family outside o’ the pack?”
“My parents moved to North Wales to be closer to the rest of the family. My sister’s been in Australia for three years now.”
“You’re Welsh lass?” I’d never have guessed her for Welsh, there’s no’ even a hint o’ accent. Ahhhh there’s that laugh again.
“Oh God, no. My aunt and uncle live there, they moved there to follow my uncle’s job. House prices are cheaper over the border so it made more sense for mum and dad to move there rather than the other way round.”
“And do they know what happened lass?”
“Some of it. Not a lot. I told them I’d been jumped on a night out in the city. I told them I had some cuts and bruises, nothing serious. I didn’t want them worried and I couldn’t tell them about the wolf thing. They were on holiday when it happened, on a cruise round the Norwegian Fjords; otherwise they’d have been straight over regardless.”
“You were only young lass. Did you no’ want them around?”
“I had Donna and Michael, once I got to know them. Then I had Rob.” She shrugs and that’s it. I’m beginnin’ tae understand why that young lad couldnae handle this lass. A lot o’ strength is intimidatin’; for some people, no’ for me.
“Come on lass, let’s get you fed.”
“You sound like Donna.”
I shrug. “The woman gives good advice.”
It’s no’ too hard tae find a pub nearby that serves food, and in no time we’re gettin’ stuck intae steak and chips. I never have understood why staff find it perfectly acceptable for a fella tae order his steak rare, but always do a double take if a lass does the same. Ach, if only they knew.
We’re washing our meals down with a pint each, but I’m no’ ready tae let the day go yet, even though it’s gettin’ dark out. But that’s the beauty o’ being a werewolf, we doona have tae.
“You up for a run lass?”
She glances behind tae the dark glass o’ the window. “I know it’s no’ the full moon. I can help you change if you’re worried.”
She looks at me. No’, that’s no’ right, she’s studying me, lookin’ for something.
“I don’t need any help with that.”
She seems tae be waiting for somethin’, some sort o’ reaction from me. Then I remember some o’ what she said the night before last, her fella had his pride bruised by the fact she was stronger than him.
“I’m glad to hear it, lass.” And I am. I like that she’s strong, capable, able tae look after herself. This week alone has been proof o’ that. There’s no’ many young lasses who would up and move out like she did, get themselves sorted so quickly. She doesnae look convinced, but she finishes the rest o’ her beer.
“Okay, I’m up for that.”
We take our leave o’ the place and I drive us further ontae the moors, tae the place Michael took me on my first night out o’ jail. We’ve no’ been as organised as tae bring anything with us tae put our clothes in, but I know Donna keeps a blanket in the boot o’ the car; that’ll have tae do. I get it while Becca takes in the view o’ the lights o’ the distant city. It’s dark enough that, if I were human, I wouldnae be able tae see her face when she turns away from civilisation. There’s only a sliver o’ the moon out; but we’re no’ human. I set out, leading us away from the road. When we’re surrounded by blackness, I lay the blanket out. Becca pauses. I remember her shyness from the full moon and wonder if it’s anything tae do with that.
“Rethinking that boast o’ yours lass
?”
“Not at all.” That’s better, there’s fire in her tone.
This early in the night and this far away from the full moon I was expecting her tae struggle tae change, despite what she said, but the lass has fur almost as quickly as I do. Not quickly enough for me tae miss the marks that bastard laid on her all that time ago though. Even under the blanket of the thick dark, her pale skin shines, and ma supernatural sight helps as well. Her wolf is only a few shades less bright; she fairly glows. It’s a good job we’re a ways from the road.
We both take the time tae stretch a little, but then I’m off, and she either has tae find her own way or catch up. I want tae see what this woman, what this wolf, is made o’. It’s no’ long before she shows me. She’s fast enough tae keep pace at my side; I wasnae expecting that. She must be holding back when she runs with the pack if she’s making a point o’ staying behind Daniel.
It’s a good run; we cover a lot o’ ground. We slide down cloughs and splash in the icy streams that cut through them before scrambling up the opposite banks. We steer clear o’ the boggy parts, sticking tae the rockier, more uneven, but dryer ground. I cannae help myself when we get tae the top o’ one crag, I have tae stop and howl. There’s somethin’ about running with this lass, even without the moon, that makes me want to call it out. When she joins in, I know. I know that I’m goin’ tae fight ‘til my last breath tae keep this lass safe and I’ll bleed tae keep her happy.
When we’re done, she pads over and stands by my side, so our flanks are touching, with barely room tae get a leaf between us. I lay my head over her shoulders, kind o’ like a wolf embrace. I feel her nuzzle in under my neck. It’s instinct no’ tae let anythin’ with teeth near your neck or belly when we’re in animal form, but I feel absolutely comfortable with her there.
We stay like that for a while, surrounded by the small sounds o’ the night. There’s a chill wind brushin’ over the ground, but we cannae feel it through our thick fur. I’m no sure which o’ us decides tae move first, or whether we both move at the same time, but we both know it’s time tae be gettin’ back. Donna’s goin’ tae think I’ve eloped with her friend. I’m amazed she hasnae sent a search party out already.
We keep a slower pace back tae our starting point, there’s a reluctance in both o’ us to break the spell o’ this night. When we get back tae the blanket, I pause. I need tae let Becca know she has nothin’ tae fear from me. Before we change, I get close enough tae rub my muzzle along hers, and bury my face in her fur. I take the scent o’ her intae me and I know she’ll never be able tae outrun me. She’ll never get far enough that I’ll no’ be able tae find her.
She doesnae try tae shy away and, after a pause, she returns the gesture. I can feel her hot breath through ma fur on the side of ma neck. Instinct that’s everything to do with me bein’ a man and an animal pushes me, but I will no’, no’ here, no’ today. I start tae change back without movin’ away, and when she realises, she follows ma lead. The electricity is back, this close it’s like being bathed in each other’s aura, our very essence.
It’s no’ the temperature to be standin’ around naked, but I cannae help but brush the backs of ma fingers down the scars that mark her, that brought her here to this spot, tae this time, right now. It’s a large markin’ and you can see from their path down from her neck that the bastard who did it had evil intent. She trembles but she doesnae pull away. I’m starin’ intae those liquid brown eyes and I can smell her, scent the way her body reacts to me. I’m close tae changin’ ma mind about the use o’ that blanket. I have tae remind maself tae be a gentleman, that she’s still healin’ and that she only met me for the first time last week.
I step away and we dress without speakin’. As I said, it’s no’ warm enough for bein’ without clothin’ this high up on the moor, however much I want tae throw her down intae the heather. She can see from my body what I’m thinkin’ but she doesnae comment on it,
She doesnae speak as we drive back tae her flat either. I’m no’ feelin’ hostility from her, just confusion, and I guess I’m tae blame for that. When we get back tae her place, I’m still holdin’ on, tryin’ tae behave maself; but before she gets out o’ the car I cannae resist runnin’ ma fingers intae all that silky hair.
“I’ll be seein’ you soon, lass.”
Even tae ma ears, my voice rough from want, that sounds as much o’ a threat as a promise. I let her escape, but before she disappears through the door o’ her building, she turns and even from here I can see that there’s a small smile on those pink lips. Aye, a threat and a promise.
Chapter Twelve
Monday mornings are bad enough in their own right. They really don’t need cold, grey drizzle as well. It’s as if the gods need some amusement, something to make us mere mortals be even more miserable and cranky than usual. You can feel everyone’s resentment at the weather in the atmosphere on the train. Lots of soggy people crammed together in the early morning makes for a thoroughly miserable journey.
Getting to work was such a wretched ordeal, that I’m almost happy to be here. As I sit down and get my PC started, I take a look at my desk. Everything is laid out exactly as it was when I left on Thursday, nothing has been touched. Of course, there would be no reason for anything to have been moved. It feels strange to see my stapler, hole-punch and selotape dispenser sitting there so innocently. On Thursday evening, when I saw them last, I felt about as bad as I ever had. My world had been turned upside-down and was spinning out of control. In three short days, that has changed completely.
I feel centred again. I feel more like myself than I have done in a long time. I have my friends, who love and accept me for who I am. They’ve had to make some hard choices, choices that have had a dire effect on my life; but I can not hold that against them. Ultimately they have been there when I needed them. I have found out something about my own self, about my own strength. I bent to the point of breaking, but I did not fall apart, well, not completely. A little emotion-induced anorexia should be considered standard in such circumstances. Now I know that I can survive a setback on that scale, I know I can survive it again. You can take me to that edge again and I’ll laugh into the abyss. I’m not saying I enjoyed myself or that I want to do it again anytime soon, but it’s going to take more than that to destroy me. Knowing that about myself makes me feel lighter in heart and in body.
The weekend has obviously been beneficial to me. Despite the havoc that the drizzle wrecked on my efforts to style my hair, I’ve received several compliments on how well I look. The office gossips are bamboozled, which is providing me with no end of silent amusement. I seem to have a half grin etched on my face today that has nothing to do with compliments or self-discovery. It might have something to do with a certain ex-Alpha werewolf.
It’s the middle of the afternoon and I’m nearly finished with a pile of typing when I get a text from Donna.
-So wen do I get 2 c ur new pad?-
Ah. She’s spoken to Callum and now she’s feeling left out. The thought of Donna pouting brings a smile to my face.
-Dont u have 2 wrk? Slacker!-
-V. Funny. Am on earlies this wk. Wanna c!-
I can almost see her stamping her foot as she types.
-2nite. Come round after boys in bed. Kettle will b on-
I’m looking forward to a girly chat with Donna; I am in need of one. I had trouble sleeping again last night, but for different reasons related to a different man entirely. I need some perspective, and Donna is in the prefect position to provide it. She’s known Callum as a friend and as an Alpha for years. The fact that she has so much faith in him speaks volumes, but I’m still feeling bruised by my own ignorance of late. I need another viewpoint.
Donna must have left the majority of the bedtime routine to Michael because she’s buzzing the intercom at seven-thirty. I can see her assessing everything as I wait for her at the bottom of the stairs to my flat. It really isn’t an easy building to find your way through, but in
a way I like that. It feels more secure that someone is going to really have to make an effort, and get past all my neighbours, to get to me. I motion her upstairs before we hug each other in greeting.
“So far so good.” She says with a smile.
“One VIP guided tour coming up.” I’ve already filled the kettle, so just switch it on so that it can boil whilst I show her around.
“Obviously this is the living room and kitchen.” I motion around the main room. I’m beginning to realise just how stark it looks. The floors are a beech-effect laminate and the walls are white. I haven’t bothered to buy a TV yet, so I haven’t bothered to buy a TV unit to stand one on. Instead, the plain black fabric sofa faces the large windows. There are no curtains, because there really isn’t any need. There’s no way for someone to casually glance in. If someone across the valley wanted to look, they’d need binoculars; and if they went to that amount of trouble, they’d be looking whether there were curtains or not.
Powerless Page 10
