by Simone Leigh
“No, I’m not saying that. It’s not all, by any means. You have a lot to learn. But it is an inescapable part of you.” He continues. “To keep yourself safe, you have to keep one of your own kind with you. When the blood time comes upon you, you will need a man, any man. If you have only humans around you, you will work your way through the entire village. The women will hate you for cuckolding them. The men will despise you as a slut. Sooner or later you will be hunted. You need your own kind.”
I nod. “I have to think. I’m going now.”
“Don’t go far, Belle.
“I need to talk with my Grandmother.”
Alright Belle. I’ll be here where you’re ready….”
_______________________________
“Is it the same for the boys Granny?”
“No, my Sweet. It’s different for the lads. They don’t need protecting the same way as we do.”
“Why not?”
She leans into me. “Because men always think with their cocks Sweetie. Young or old. Dog, wolf or human. It’s all the same to them. But for us, tied to the moon, we have to have our minds clear before the body can go its own way.”
“They say we’re evil. Humans I mean, not just men.”
My Grandmother sniffs, reflectively I think, not critically.
“Do you feel evil?”
“No.”
“What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”
I have to think about this for a moment. “I stole apples from Maister Thompson’s best tree. He sort of saw me, but I told everyone it was Aisha, and she got beaten for it.”
“Mmm. Not a very nice thing to do, I agree. And how do you feel about that?”
“I’m sorry I did it. Ashamed really.”
“So you should be. But do you think an evil person would feel shame over something like that?”
“No, I don’t suppose so. But the priest always talks about how the creatures of the night will murder people if they can, tear their throats out.”
“Well yes, we are creatures of the night, that’s perfectly true. but have you had any urges to tear out throats?”
“No.”
“Bloodlust?”
“Well, yes. I went chasing chickens…. I couldn’t help myself.”
My Grandmother ‘Harrumphs’ “You’d better learn to control that young lady. Or you’ll find an arrow coming your way. No farmer’s going to be happy about anything coming after his chickens, creature of the night or otherwise.”
She continues. “It’s perfectly natural for you to want to hunt. But go after something less contentious. Go chase rabbits. Or if you want to really hunt, we’ll go together after deer.”
“Yes Grandmother.”
“What are you going to do about Peter? You can’t leave him hanging there. He thinks he’s going to wed you.”
“I suppose I need to tell him ‘No’, but I can’t think of a nice way of doing it.”
“There isn’t a nice way of doing it. but you’re doing him no kindness by not telling him. He needs to be free to look for another girl, get on with his life.”
“Yes Grandmother.”
_______________________________
I seek out Peter. There is only one thing I can say to him.
“Belle! What are you doing here again? You can’t keep coming to me in the forest. It’s dangerous. There’s wolves been seen roaming. If you want to see me, come to Father’s house. Then we can announce our betrothal.”
I don’t know how to start, and my words are clumsy. I blurt it out. “I can’t marry you Peter. I’m sorry.”
For a moment, he looks simply unbelieving, then hurt, confused. “Why not Belle? Why not? We’ve always been promised for each other.”
“No Peter. You’ve pursued me, and I’m flattered by it. But we’re not right for each other.”
“How can you say that?” he demands. He steps towards, arm outstretched, imploring, but his expression is angry. I step away, backing off. His scent repels me. He stinks.
“Please Peter. It’s not a rejection of you. You’re a good man. But I’m not the right girl for you.”
Red faced with fury now, “Is there someone else? Is that it? All these years you’ve led me on….”
“No, that’s not it at all. Now please let me go Peter.” Unsettled by his anger, my self-control is beginning to slip. Uncomfortably, I realise that my body is fighting me. Hackles that I don’t have, are rising, and in my clenched palm, fingernails are biting into skin.
He grabs me by the shoulders, shaking me. “This isn’t the end of it Belle. I’ll get to the bottom of this…”
Wrenching myself away, “Good bye Peter. I’m sorry we had to part like this. I’d hoped we would still be friends.” My words mean naught. I want nothing more than to leave this man, this human behind me.
I turn, walking briskly away. His words follow me. “I’ll go and talk to your Grandmother. Perhaps she can knock some sense into you.”
_______________________________
“That didn’t go well then?”
“No.” I am close to tears, Karl rocking me in his arms.
“Shhh...” He’ll get over it. He’s a good-looking man and he’ll have his journeyman’s badge next year. He’ll find some other girl to bed and wed. A human girl. He wouldn’t be happy with you Belle. Trust me on this.”
Karl’s rocking is therapeutic, calming me. My sobbing settles to sighs, and my breathing deepens. He strokes my hair, kissing my forehead.
“I said before that I wouldn’t court you then. But I will now Belle. I’ve waited years for you.”
His stroking is turning sensual, fingers massaging into my neck. The fires begin to burn inside and I wonder if I should leave.
Does it have to be Karl?
“Oh no.” he chuckles. “I know that one....”
How does he know?
“….I’m keeping you here. With me. If the others find you, you might just stray off with one of them.”
I freeze. “You’re keeping me prisoner?”
“Shhh… only for now. It’s your first moon time. You’re still not thinking clearly. You can decide later what you really want. But for now, you’re mine.”
He nuzzles into my neck, biting gently and I find myself, irresistibly, drawn to a memory of one of the farm dogs doing this to his bitch, tenderly, lovingly, making her his.
And it works.
Desire pierces up through me, close to pain, exquisite and sharp. Suddenly hot, a flush sweeps over me, over breasts and face, down through my sex and loins. “That’s my Girl.” whispers Karl. “Let it happen.”
With a growl, I whip round, clawing at his shirt. He grabs me by the wrists “Slow down. Take the clothes off. We’re both going to want them again.”
The sense of what he says penetrates my clouded brain. Ripping at the laces of his shirt, I tug it off him. He pushes me down to the ground on my hands and knees, lifting my skirts up, pushing them over my head. “We’re going to have to arrange something better than this Belle.” he mutters as he strips off his breeks.
He is ready, and kneeling behind me, pushes inside. “So much for courting you eh?” he grins. “Perhaps that will have to wait a few days.”
He thrusts hard, and I howl my triumph, as pleasure pulses through me. Pumping hard into me, to the point of pain, still I want more. Hovering between wailing and whimpering, I tremble and quiver as Karl fucks me. His breathing is heavy, and glancing back through a curtain of my own long hair, I see him sweating and panting. Matching his strokes, I move with him, rocking my hips to take him inside me as our bodies merge and collide.
Climax takes me and I shriek out my triumph, struggling and writhing in Karl’s grasp, as he keeps a firm hold on my hips, burying himself deep inside me. A few moments later, he grunts, and grinding hard against me, pumps his own climax into me.
With a gasp, he withdraws and collapses on top of me, lying inert for a few seconds. Then he recovers himself. “Ah Belle,
you’re wonderful. I’m looking forward to actually getting to know you in a few days’ time.”
I growl my satisfaction at him, rolling over underneath him, pulling him down onto me.
There is a wail from close by, a figure charging in. “You little bitch!” yells Peter. “I knew there was someone else. Are you his whore now?”
Karl stands slowly, pulling on his breeks, all the while eyeing Peter warily. He tosses me my dress. Peter continues screaming at us.
“First time? Yes, right! You slut! No wonder you behaved like you did. What were you trying to do? Get pregnant and trap me into marrying you?”
His illogic baffles me. Trick him into marriage? Hastily pulling on my dress, “Peter, I’m sorry, but you’re not thinking clearly. You’re not making sense”
Peter strides over to me, hand raised. My inner wolf wells up, snarling, ready to fight.
Karl steps between us. “Belle’s not interested in marrying you Peter. Leave her be. She’s not yours.”
Peter tries to step round him, to strike, but Karl moves, so fast I barely see it, seizing Peter’s raised wrist and wrestling it down.
“Go.” he says. “Go.”
As Peter leaves, Karl glances at me askance. “Push it down, back inside where it belongs. Right now, your only problem is a jealous lover. Don’t let him see what you are.”
Fiercely, I suppress the wolf, but from deep within, my growl rumbles.
“What do you think he will do?”
“Go home crying to his father, who won’t be sympathetic. He always wanted Peter to marry elsewhere. Perhaps to your family, your Grandmother maybe. She won’t be sympathetic either. You’re not goods to be bought and sold Belle. You will make up your own mind.”
“You said you were going to keep me here. That doesn’t sound much like making up my own mind.”
He kisses me. “Only until you have a mind to make up. Right now, this….” he pats my belly, “…. is doing your thinking for you.”
I laugh. “Grandmother says that men only think with their cocks.”
He purses his lips, shrugging. “She has a point, but believe me, right now, and whenever you are on your moon time, you have the same problem.” He sighs. “As to keeping you prisoner, no I don’t want to do that Belle. If you decided to leave, what am I going to do? Tear your throat out? Bind you? Rape you? That’s going to endear you to me, isn’t it? The woman I want to keep, that I’ve waited years for……”
“You’re not…. not going to force me…?
“I want you to choose to stay with me Belle. Just for the next day or so, until you can think clearly again. Your family know where you are. They know that you will have found me.
“They do?”
“Of course they do. Please Belle. Two days. That’s all.”
“Alright. Two days then.
_______________________________
As I approach my Grandmother’s house, I scent human: Peter
Without changing, I circle the cottage, sniffing at prints. Through wolven eyes, the land is strangely monochrome, but the importance of my vision dwindles next to the kaleidoscope of information I scent.
Voices carry through the still night, but even without my enhanced lupine hearing, Peter’s voice would be loud. He sounds half crazed, ranting. My Grandmother’s voice occasionally interjects, but he shouts her down.
I slip in through the back door, watching from the shadows, concealed by the gloom
My Grandmother is wearing her night shift. Plainly, Peter got her out of bed. And now he stands, raging at her, about me. My Grandmother is tall, if a little stooped, a striking figure usually, but Peter towering above, leaves her looking somehow, reduced; an old lady, who should not have this man, this human, raving at her.
“How could she? She was with him…. They were together, out in the forest. We’ve always been promised.”
My Grandmother tries to speak, but again he shouts her down, his haranguing becoming wilder.
A brief moment; Grandmother’s head tilts back and her nostrils flare. She scents something. Me?
She knows I am here.
Finally, she raises a hand. “Peter! Enough!” He starts to bluster again, but “Enough, I say!”
My Grandmother, barefoot, in her shift, walks slowly around the room, apparently randomly, as though thoughtful, trying to choose her words, but her eyes stare into the shadows where I am hiding, locking on me momentarily, before she returns to Peter.
“Peter,” she says. “Belle had good reasons for refusing you.” He starts to bluster again, and once more, my Grandmother raises that staying hand.
She continues. “Our family is an unusual one. There are things about us not generally known.”
In growing horror, I see her untying the laces of her shift.
“Let me show you…” she says, “Why Belle cannot be yours.”
Peter gaping, her shift slips to the floor, and she stands before him, a naked old lady with a little pot belly, stooped shoulders, drooping breasts.
Then she changes. Her flesh melts and twists, and golden eyed she gazes up at the man gaping down at her. She makes no movement, simply sits on her haunches, looking up at him, panting a little.
Peter stands for a moment, frozen, then his face twists, contorts into loathing and he swings his axe.
She makes no move to defend herself, or to escape. The axe crashes down, cleaving her skull, brains and blood splashing across the flags. As she falls to the floor, her flesh shimmers and crawls again, and she lies there, gasping her last onto the stone flags. Peter stares, horrified, at the bloody remains of an old, old woman.
I want to shriek “Grandmother!”, but in my lupine form, what emerges is a roar of rage and despair as I leap into the room.
Peter recoils, his axe swinging up again, but in mid-leap I change, landing in a naked tumble by my dying Grandmother.
She can barely speak, but whispers to me “You had to see Sweets, what would happen if they know. Protect your daughter….” She raises a hand, barely, and strokes my belly. Her eyes glaze and her breath, in a long sigh, leaves her.
“No….” I wail and sob, trying to deny the truth before me. For long seconds, I can think of nothing but loss, grief………
I gather myself. Turning, Peter is staring down at me, his expression a wash of horror, incredulity and disgust. And he is still holding his axe.
“Are you going to use that on me as well?”
His face crumples, tears welling up. He looks down at the floor, fists clenched. I expect him to scream at me, but he speaks very quietly. “I loved you Belle.”
I can’t bring myself to look at the broken body on the floor. “You murdered my Grandmother.”
“She was a Changer.” he mutters. “So are you. You all are.”
“So? Have any of us every hurt you? Done you any harm at all?”
“Changers are evil. Everyone knows that. Everyone…”
“You didn’t answer the question. Have any of us ever hurt you? Have you ever heard of someone being hurt by one of us? Not just stories, but someone you actually know?”
Still staring at the floor, he shakes his head, repeating “I loved you, Belle.”
The blood seeping across the floor screams at me. “Loved me? So, you murder my Grandmother?”
“She was a wolf. I thought she was going to attack me….”
“No, you didn’t. You saw her change. I saw it too. She simply changed and sat there, to show you what she was. You knew it was her, but you killed her anyway. You murdered an old lady.”
“A wolf. A Changer.”
“Why? Why?”
Why did she show him? She knew what she was doing.
To show me….
…….Daughter?
She showed him, to show me. To protect me. And my daughter. She knew he’d kill her, even though she was a harmless old granny, he’d known all his life.
Because she was a Changer.
And now he’s seen me.
And, when he’s thought about it for a bit, he will come after me. Because I’m a Changer. and he will try to kill me.
And the daughter I am carrying inside me.
With no conscious effort, I am in wolf form again. I launch myself at him, jaws gaping.
