by AJ Skelly
“Yes. We were sitting close at the game, and Shelby knocked into Sam getting past him, and we sort of collided. My head and his teeth.”
Silence. “Oh. My. Word. I can’t believe it. Okay. So. Accidental werewolf nipping.” Rachel blew out a big breath. “How can I help, Meggie? What do you need me to do?”
Megan glanced at me once more.
“Want me to talk to her?” I whispered, sure I’d be unleashing Rachel’s wrath on me like the hounds of hell. Megan nodded. Great.
“Rach, I’m going to let Sam talk to you a sec.” She passed the phone over.
“Sam Wolfe, when I get my hands on you—” Rachel started.
“Hi, Rachel,” I cut in, wanting to get this over with. “Look, I don’t have much time right now; Megan could need me again in a minute.” As I’d hoped, that shut her up.
“Fine,” Rachel snarled. “Tell me what I need to know right now, and we’ll figure the rest out later.”
“You can’t tell anyone. I mean anyone. You breathe a word of this to the dog next door, and all of us are in hot water. As in, telling anyone could jeopardize our lives—particularly Megan’s.”
“Got it. Lips are zipped.” She paused, and her voice dropped. “Sam, is Megan really going to be all right?”
“She will be. The next two or three days may be a bit uncomfortable, physically and mentally, but she’s going to be fine.” I smiled at Megan reassuringly. Her lips were pursed. “I’ll pass you back over.”
“Yep. You take care of my best friend. I haven’t forgiven you yet.”
“I will. All right. Here’s Meg.”
Rachel was calm enough now that I couldn’t overhear the whole conversation over the roar of the engine in the cold night.
“I will, Rach. To the ends of the earth. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Meg glanced at me, and I nodded. Rachel was in the know now. No sense in keeping the two girls from talking on the phone. It might actually ease the transition for Megan. She clicked the phone off.
“I guess there is some rule against telling people werewolves exist,” she said with mild sarcasm.
My thumb twitched against the wheel.
“The top two rules, you might say, are No Biting and No Revealing. I kinda royally screwed them both tonight. Not the best night for the Alpha’s son.”
Part of me was crushed at how this whole night had gone—I’d not only ticked off my dad to epic new heights, but I’d stripped Megan of any hope of a normal human life after this. She’d always know werewolves existed after tonight. She was one of us now. The other part of me, the part that recognized Meg as my mate, couldn’t bemoan this turn of events. Megan was it for me.
“Sam—”
Her shoulders twitched. We weren’t going to make it to the cabin before Meg shifted again. I cranked the car to a screeching halt on the gravel path and raced around to the passenger door. I got her out just as her shoulders rolled back and her eyes fluttered.
Gripping the sleeves of my jacket Meg still wore, I was able to get it off before her shoulders widened, but I wasn’t quick enough for the shirt or my sweats. Meg arched her back, sobs turning to whimpers as she thrashed.
“Don’t fight it, Meg.” I tried to sound soothing. My voice sounded like sandpaper. Megan hung onto her human form resulting in a suspended shift. Her legs and feet were changed, paws clawing at the dirt, her torso covered in fur, but her arms and hands remained human. Her face had the snout and jaw of her wolf, but her very human eyes were like frisbees. Fear radiated off her. Panic bled all over her face, whimpers turned into howls.
“Meg, listen to me.” My heart constricted all over again. The first day of shifts were the most painful things I’d experienced in my lifetime, and I was born to it with full knowledge of what was going on inside me when it happened. “Listen to my voice. I’ll talk you through this. You can do this. You are strong. This is perfectly normal for a werewolf.”
She howled in pain and frustration, and my own wolf pushed for release. I shoved him back down. Meg still needed me in skin.
Chapter 10
Megan
It hurts, it hurts, it hurts! I don’t want this! I don’t want this!
Wracking sobs hitched in my chest and came out as garbled animal sounds. I was afraid of the pain. I was afraid of turning wolf. I was afraid of losing me, of turning into some creature I didn’t understand and not being able to come back. I didn’t know how to do this. I didn’t want to do this! I just wanted to be me—human me!
“Meg, listen to my voice.” Sam’s voice was calm and steady. I tried to slow my frantic heartbeat and quell my panic, but the searing pain doubled me over. Hands covered in fur and paws where my feet should have been met my gaze, sending another wave of panic crashing over me. I was stuck half girl and half wolf! My mind stopped. Panic overtook me. There was nothing rational left in that moment as I thrashed on the ground, trying in vain to become one thing or the other. The creature inside me tried to take over, but my panic overrode everything else. A great fire tortured my body. Every single hair that poked through my skin was a razor cutting deep into my flesh. My bones were broken in several places as they were arrested, fused half human and half animal. My teeth were jagged, piercing my gums and a tongue that no longer fit into my mouth. Black dots danced in front of my eyes.
“Megan, you are all right. Don’t fight this. Embrace the pain. I know it sounds crazy but lean into the pain, and it will be over sooner.”
I screeched and wailed against the agony, but I tried to follow his instructions. Doing my best to set aside my terror, I took a heaving breath and let the pain ride up my legs and over my hips, the great fire burning hotter and hotter in my belly. I screamed, and a wolf’s howl came out. My body lurched forward without me, and I crashed to the ground in a whimpering heap of matted fur and sweat.
Sam was saying something in a soothing tone. His voice was deep. It rose and fell like water over smooth stones.
Everything was in a fog. It took me a minute to orient myself, and right as I realized Sam was actually singing softly, not talking, I felt the telltale tingling pain in the base of my tail. My tail.
Gritting my teeth, I forced the rational part of my brain to the front and told myself I wasn’t afraid of the pain and that I could do this. The flames engulfed me as I managed to keep my panic at bay. The shards of fur sliced their way back through my skin as my bones ground against each other and shattered into a thousand pieces to fit themselves back to their human shape.
Mercifully, the change back was quick but left me again, naked, in a teary, snotty, shivering ball at Sam’s feet.
I’d never felt so vulnerable in all my life.
Sam covered me with his jacket again and then retrieved a large gray robe from the bag in his trunk. I shivered on the ground, sweaty, achy, exhausted beyond comprehension, but strangely alert.
“Here,” he said and shook out the voluminous robe in front of me. He held it out for me to slip into as he turned his face away to give me some small measure of privacy.
“We have these specially made,” he explained as I jerkily put my left arm into a billowy, though short, sleeve. “They are made so a person can shift to their wolf while wearing one of these. They’re roomy enough to accommodate the change, but loose enough your wolf can wiggle out of it without opposable thumbs.”
“Fabulous,” I quipped, choking on the edge of hysteria creeping in. “I don’t suppose they come in pink?” I asked dryly, surprising myself with my sarcasm.
Sam snorted, trying not to laugh, as surprised as I was at my retort.
“I’ll check on that right away.” A grin tipped the corner of his mouth as he steered me back to the still-running car. For a fleeting moment, he was just a good-looking, nice guy from school. Someone I’d always had a special fondness for but who had been somehow unattainable. Something inside me gravitated to that grin while I just as forcefully shut it down. If it weren’t for the uncertainty of my newly acquired furry side, I’d be
long gone from Sam Wolfe.
My teeth chattered as we finished the rest of the short drive to the cabin. It had been in sight as I shifted.
It was a simple but tasteful building in a small clearing surrounded by beautifully mature trees. It was bigger than I’d imagined, and in the moonlight it was charming. If only my circumstances were so lovely.
Sam shut off the car. “Are you feeling better or worse after your last shift?” His face was so sincere. The rational part of my brain knew that changing me hadn’t been in his plans, but part of me still wanted to be angry and blame him.
Grandpa always said, “Anger makes a bitter brew if left to steep too long.” Expelling a gust of air, I flexed my fingers. Wiggling my toes next, I was pleased my rusty joints moved with more control and less brittleness than they had before the last shift.
“Maybe a little better,” I conceded. “But everything is still sore.” I ached like I was bruised black and blue. Even moving my digits had been painful.
His eyebrows knit together. “I know. I can’t tell you how sorry I am, Megan. But if your muscles are a little looser, that’s a good thing. Let me grab my bag, and I’ll come get your door.
My head settled against the headrest as I let out a long breath. I could be angry with Sam, use up whatever mental energy I had left, or I could put it aside and let him help me through the coming pain of the next phases.
A tear escaped as I briefly contemplated my future. Things had been so rosy this morning. Everything looked pretty bleak now, overshadowed by a giant wolf somehow coexisting within me.
The door opened, and Sam held out his hand. I closed my eyes for one second, took a deep breath, and whooshed out my anger with it. Most of it, at least.
A new chapter of my life had just been forced upon me.
Chapter 11
Sam
The lock clicked as I turned the key. Ushering Meg in ahead of me, I closed and locked the door behind us. The bright tang of pine and wolf greeted me, instantly taking me back to a hundred different memories here. Coming here with my parents, having my first shift right outside these walls, meeting here to run with my pack, accepting Beta at the communal fire ring out back—one of the last times I remember my father looking proudly at me as his son.
So many wonderful memories were held within these walls. And now I’d brought my mate here—though it was nothing like I’d imagined.
Instead of bringing her here with the intent of sharing something profoundly intimate, I felt like Attila the Hun, having practically kidnapped her, carted her off to a foreign land, and forced her to be with me. Welcome to your new home, Megan.
“This is it,” I said instead, swallowing back my desires and dreams of how I’d once thought of bringing my mate—the woman I intended to spend the rest of my life with—to this place.
I tried to take in my cabin’s interior with fresh eyes as Megan might.
Directly in front of the door was the kitchen—small, but fully functional. Off to the left of that was the tiny bathroom, comprised of a shower, sink, and toilet. Jutting out from the wall beside the bathroom was a stacked washer/dryer combo.
There was a little eating nook directly to the left, and to the right was a large sectional couch that cocooned a living room/gathering space. Behind the far side of the sectional was the full-sized bed where I always slept if I stayed overnight. A small, bricked fireplace was against the back wall and on the other side of that was a queen-sized bed with a bunked sleeping space above the back half. There were two chests of drawers and a nightstand scattered between the beds and fireplace and a collapsible table leaning against the back wall.
It certainly wasn’t palatial, but it was clean and homey. I glanced at Megan. I wasn’t sure if she was aware enough of her surroundings to notice much or not.
“Why don’t we get you comfortable on the couch, and I’ll start a fire and get things warmed up.” I was cold, so I knew Meg must be freezing with the alternate sweating and chills first shifts brought on.
“Sam, what is that smell?” she asked, clearly puzzled.
“Can you describe it?” It smelled the same as it always did to me, but Megan’s senses were changing as my toxins altered her body.
She took another whiff. “It smells…strong. Dark. Woodsy. Part revolting and part intriguing.”
“I don’t know about the revolting part, but you might be smelling some of the lingering scents of pack members. We all use the cabin from time to time. There’s a lot of different smells. It’s probably a little confusing to your nose right now. Your sense of smell—your vision and hearing, too—will all get sharper over the next few days. Part of the werewolf package.” I grimaced as she wrinkled her nose.
She sank wearily down into the couch cushions, and I grabbed the spare blanket off the edge of my bed and wrapped it around her shoulders, now curious if she’d find my scent on it—and if she’d like it. Suddenly, I wished I’d grabbed a different blanket. I’d never been self-conscious about my scent before, but I was now.
If she smelled anything, she didn’t let on. I was both disappointed and relieved. Her nose probably couldn’t pick up individual wolves yet. I had hoped she’d find my scent attractive at the least.
With some quickly crinkled newspaper, splinters of kindling, and a few logs on top of that, a cheery crackle and popping soon filled the quiet space. Meg huddled under my blanket. I couldn’t read her face, and honestly had no idea how to approach her now that we were here. Alone. Just the two of us, waiting for her next shift. I nervously cleared my throat.
“Um, are you thirsty?”
She blinked, startled. “Yeah. Actually, I’m parched.”
Chapter 12
Megan
Sam got a large blue stoneware mug down from one of the honey-colored cabinets and filled it from the tap. My brain buzzed with thoughts. Fears. Images of shifting. Half-baked questions. But one thing concerned me most.
My fingers trembled as Sam handed me the mug. Our fingers grazed, and I found it curiously annoying when my tremors stopped at the contact.
I licked my dry lips and took a long drink.
“I imagine you have some questions?” He sat down opposite me on the sectional, his shaggy blond hair flopping over his forehead. He steepled his fingers in front of him, elbows braced on his knees. In the firelight, I could just make out some blond stubble along his squared jaw. I felt an inward nudge again, reminding me how handsome Sam was. Was that, how did I say it? My wolf? It irritated me to have my thoughts dictated by anything other than my own mind. But that was irrelevant to my current train of thought.
“Sam, I…how? When, I mean, that is—” Nothing was coming out right. I couldn’t quite wrap my brain around what I wanted to ask. Finally, I blurted, “Am I going to try to eat my grandpa’s face off the next time I see him?”
“What?” His face was as shocked as I was at the words that had tumbled from my lips. “Of course not!”
“Am I going to turn into this bloodthirsty monster that craves flesh all the time?”
He appeared genuinely wounded. That probably wasn’t the most tactful way I could have approached things. Oops.
“I think you might have read one too many vampire books,” he said stiffly. I felt mildly chastised; though, I wasn’t sure I deserved chastising after tonight’s events. He blew a breath out his mouth. “Sorry, that didn’t come out very sensitively.” At least he realized it, too. I sighed. I hadn’t been overly tactful tonight either.
“Werewolves don’t eat flesh, unless it’s a nice medium-rare steak. They don’t drink blood, and as soon as your first shifts settle down, you’ll be perfectly normal during the day. You might still be a little unstable at night, especially as the next full moon approaches.”
“You mean this is, like, an everyday thing, not just during the full moon?” I was a little horrified at the thought.
“For you, it definitely will be. Most werewolves prefer to shift and have a good run nearly every day.
But you won’t have total control over your wolf at night until the next full moon, which is in about four weeks. During that time, it will be especially important for you to be near a more, um, powerful wolf, to make sure you’re able to control it, or if not, then the other wolf can step in and help.”
Maybe my eyesight was improving like Sam said it would, because I could have sworn his cheeks pinked a little as he stammered out his explanation. I wasn’t really tracking with what he was saying about a more powerful wolf. I was tired and just wanted to go home to my grandpa and my own bed. Clearly that was out.
“So I get a wolfy bodyguard?”
“Not exactly.”
I was about to press him for more details when there was a knock at the door, right as the wretched tingling started in my tailbone again.
Rev walked in as my feet were turning once more into paws. I ignored Rev and listened as Sam coached me again.
It was easier this time. And honestly, knowing I wasn’t going to be totally naked, thanks to the “wolf robe,” helped. My bones had some memory of what they were trying to do, and the scant knowledge of understanding what was happening helped me feel slightly more in control. I let myself surrender to the change, letting my skin sprout the fur.
“You’re doing a great job, Megan! Keep letting yourself feel the little things your body is trying to do. Yes. Just like that. Good job. Let your snout come out longer. Don’t hold it back. There you go. Now your ears. That’s it! Push them through. Fantastic! Shake it all out.”
I had to admit it, Sam was a great coach now that I was actually listening to him and letting him instruct me. And the pain had only doubled me over twice. My face swung to Rev, my wolf eyes taking him in clearly with his chocolaty skin and frizzing gray hair standing up. There was a look of awe stamped on his weathered face I would never have expected. He clutched an old book under one arm, a large thermos in the other.
The wolf only remained for a few minutes before I shifted back. I was glad about that—I was far from comfortable being a wolf, and I had about a million questions for Rev and Sam. Assuming I could stay awake long enough. I was so tired. The gray robe did its job. I was able to stay covered during the shift back, for which I was profoundly thankful. My nakedness had been observed enough for one night.
