by AJ Skelly
“I’m not sure what that means.”
“Basically, you’d be controlling the shift. You would be in charge of calling up your wolf, rather than letting her lead the parade,” he explained as he rubbed a hand over his left eye. I could tell he was just as tired as I was, though he was better at hiding it. I was cranky, but I tried to put it aside. My attitude was the one thing I could control in this mess, and I had no desire to make things worse than they already were by being crabby.
“That sounds promising,” I offered half-heartedly. I did want to learn to control the wolf. I needed to control the wolf. I was the one in charge of my body—at least I wanted to be. “What do I need to do?”
He scratched his chin. “In the wolf world, we call it asserting your dominance. You let your wolf know you are the Alpha in your pair. Once you make the effort to get to know her a little better, the two of you will become even more linked—your thoughts and actions will flow seamlessly into each other. It will help you shift at will, rather than pulling away from each other. Does that make sense?”
I thought about it for a minute. I had felt the wolf’s presence all day, but I’d never thought about making her acquaintance, as Grandpa might have said. She’d only been this terrifying, wild beast inside me, contorting me and controlling me whenever she felt the urge. But if I was the dominant party, and could force the wolf to understand that, could I control it?
Closing my eyes, for the first time, I sought the wolf in my mind. I didn’t have to search far. She was there, waiting for me right below the surface. She licked my face, happy that I’d come seeking her. I relaxed a fraction of an inch, and the wolf lunged. I felt the hair on my arms start to sprout and I sucked in a sharp breath.
“Don’t let her control you, Meg,” Sam said softly. “You control her. Show her you are the Alpha of your pair.”
I didn’t exactly know what that meant, but in my mind’s eye, I took my hands and grasped the wolf’s will.
“Your wolf is an extension of you—the wild parts of you channeled into one form,” Sam encouraged.
I jerked my wolf’s will back with everything I had. I am the Alpha, I told her. She snarled, and the hair poked further through my skin, setting my limbs on fire as the ice-like hairs pricked through my tender skin. I snarled back. I would control her. I would not be feral and would not be governed by something other than my own mind. We stared each other down for a full minute before I narrowed my eyes and squeezed my wolf’s will tight between my hands. Mine, I told her. Mine to control. Slowly, my wolf raised her head, breaking eye-contact as she rolled onto her back, flashing her underbelly up at me in submission.
I gasped as the fur receded from my arms and legs, as the wolf let go of her control and turned it over to me.
My eyes opened, and I sagged to the couch, bracing my forehead on the arm of the furniture. Breaths puffed in quick, shallow pants and a cold sweat slicked my skin.
I did it.
When I caught my breath, I looked over at Sam triumphantly. His smile was wide and oddly, pride shone in his eyes.
“And that’s how you assert your dominance,” he said softly.
I felt a silly, sleep-deprived grin stretch across my own lips.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?”
“I’d say, ‘you have no idea,’ but I’m pretty sure you do,” I answered, the banter between us the least strained it had been since last night at the game.
“Do you want to call the shot to shift?”
“I think I need to learn, whether I want to or not.”
He nodded. “It’s the same principle. You call your wolf, you let her know you are the alpha, and that you want to shift. You will let her out, and you will call her back in. Eventually, you’ll become in sync enough that the thoughts flow without effort between the two of you, and you won’t need to assert your dominance. You will be the alpha, and she’ll respond without challenge.”
I took a deep breath and sat up straighter on the couch. “Okay. I can do this.” Big breath in through the nose, out through the mouth.
“Yes. You can. You’re doing an amazing job,” Sam encouraged.
I closed my eyes again, seeking my wolf. She was there, tail wagging this time. There was no challenge in her posture, and she seemed genuinely happy at my attention.
Taking a deep breath, I let my thoughts expand to my wolf. I thought about how I wanted to shift, stay wolf for a few minutes, briefly explore being on four paws, and then I wanted to shift back.
Wolf was perfectly amiable and sat, waiting patiently for me to let her out. Shaking the rest of my trepidation off, I let go of a tendril of my control, giving it to the wolf. It was like taking apart a tightly woven braid, but instead of letting the untied cords drop, I was handing them to my wolf who was forming them into an intricate pattern on her end.
It was like the shift happened in slow motion. Each strand of the braid I handed to the wolf, she took and started changing my body. The fire of the pain was absent, too. It was still painful, but I wasn’t gasping and shrieking with the effort of the shift.
Once I felt the fur on my body and my bones stretching, I let the wolf have her head, and the rest of the shift just happened. It was nearly simultaneous. One moment I was inching my way from human to wolf, and the next, it was done. I was standing on four paws in front of Sam. The wolf was delighted, and she nudged us forward, her nose touching Sam’s knee.
“Meg, that was beautiful.” His face was still smiling, his eyes tired. He brought his hand up and hesitated before gently stroking the fur on my head and behind my ears. I wanted to back away, but wolf was lapping up the attention.
Time to move away, I told my wolf. She growled at me, and I was conscious on some level that we were growling toward Sam. He dropped his hand off, and Wolf forcefully put her head back under his hand. I gripped her will and jerked her back.
A startled yelp sounded as I sat heavily on my rump, my tail whapping against the floor. I glared at my wolf.
I am the alpha, I reminded her. She growled and barred her teeth at me.
“Show her you’re the boss in a way she will understand,” Sam offered softly in the background.
At his words, something instinctive possessed me. In my mind, I took my mouth and covered her muzzle, biting down hard.
She squeaked in surprise, then rolled over and flashed me her belly again once I released her.
Time to change back, I ordered.
She took one more glance of long-suffering at Sam and chuffed out a breath and complied.
Again, the shift was almost instantaneous. And shifting back didn’t hurt!
I was still breathing hard, but I was more relaxed. I had told the wolf I was in charge, and she had obeyed. That was more than I’d hoped for an hour ago.
“Your shifts should be much easier now. She knows who the boss is. You probably still won’t be able to totally control them for another day or two though, and you may still have rough patches this first month. Night will still be hard when the moon pulls at the wolf.” Sam smiled. “Your dominance display was pretty impressive.” His smile had faded to a boyish grin, and I found myself smiling, too.
“I’m not sure she’s happy about it, but this is the calmest she’s been except for the times you’ve quieted her. Why does she react to you that way?” I was suddenly curious, though my eyelids were about to drop shut.
“I’m the one that bit you. It’s a wolf thing,” he said simply.
I tried to respond, but my eyes closed, and I couldn’t force my mouth into the words that wanted to leave my lips. I slept. Deeply.
****
Sunday rolled in with golden glory over a frosted ground. Or so Grandpa told me. Mercifully, I slept through it. I woke to the sound of knocking on the door. Groggily, I glanced around and realized Sam and I were both still sprawled out on the couches. Wolf must have finally let us sleep several hours in a row.
The clock on the wall said it was ten o’clock. A groan escaped
as I lifted my arms over my head and several spots in my back popped and cracked.
“What time is it?” Sam muttered, his arm still draped over his eyes.
“Ten,” my voice croaked.
With more fluidity and grace than should be allowed for someone with no more sleep than he’d had, Sam rose from his couch and went to the door. I got a whiff of his scent as he moved past me, and Wolf was suddenly completely alert and awake. Snow and pine. I stopped myself just short of totally inhaling, but out of curiosity, took a tiny little sniff to confirm. He smelled good—in a way that made my toes curl and my gut churn.
“Morning, Rev, Mr. Carmichael. Ah, Rachel. I see the whole entourage is here. Dad? Mom? Tammy? What is everyone doing here?”
I cringed when I realized my rumpled state. I was covered in day-old dried shifting sweat, my hair was matted into a nest even rats might forego, and I was pretty sure the reek of unbathed dog was coming off my own skin. Embarrassment flushed through me, and I could feel my face heating. I sank down further into the couch. If the bathroom hadn’t been on the other side of the cabin and past the doorway where apparently all of creation had gathered, I would have made a run for it. As it was, I curled into the oversized gray robe.
Wait. Could I mentally speak with Sam? Maybe have him hold them off?
It was worth a shot.
He was talking with someone at the front door, but I was prepared to interrupt.
Sam, can you ask them to wait?
His back stiffened.
“Can you guys give us a few minutes?”
There was some mumbling outside, but most of it cut off when Sam shut the door. He looked at me expectantly.
“I need a shower. And my toothbrush. I think my teeth are growing fuzz.”
Sam snorted. I hadn’t actually meant to say that last bit out loud. I scrubbed a hand over my face, grabbed one of the duffel bags Rachel brought over, and dashed for the shower.
“Do you need to get in here before I barricade myself in for the next half hour?”
A wry smile touched his lips. “Give me two minutes.”
It was rude to ignore the whole gathering of people that showed up, but I told myself it was equally rude for them to show up unannounced. I didn’t mind Grandpa or Rachel, but I didn’t care for anyone else to be there. I hadn’t really even met Tammy. And I’d only met Sam’s mom the night before last. And then there was Mr. Wolfe.
All the same, I hurried, showering off all the stink and quickly got dressed in comfortable jeans and a long-sleeved cranberry-colored Henley. With my own clean underwear and bra, thanks very much. Wolf appeared amiable for the time being, so I put on a dash of mascara and eyeliner to make myself feel more human. Wolf snorted indignantly.
Everybody was sitting around the table or on the couches when I exited with a slight cloud of steam. My wet hair was thrown up in a knot on top of my head, and I felt a drop of water trickle down my neck. Conversation stopped, and I wanted to go back into the bathroom.
“Coffee, sweetheart?” Grandpa asked, handing me a large to-go cup from my favorite coffee shop.
“Thank you,” I said as I gratefully took a sip.
“When do you want to start getting ready?” Mrs. Wolfe asked.
“Ready for what?”
“For the ceremony.”
The hot coffee turned to ice in my throat. I had to cough to get it moving again.
“Excuse me?” My eyes turned to Grandpa.
“We’re the wedding party,” Rachel offered drily as she scrunched her face up at me.
“Oh. I see” was all I could stammer out.
“Hi, I’m Tammy. Sam’s cousin. I accidentally overheard about your change. So I’m all in the know now,” blurted the girl I’d noticed around school last year—I think she graduated. Her short, black spikes of hair framed her head like a peacock’s tail as she stuck her hand out.
I took it automatically. She squeezed it, pumped it twice, and let go. She shrugged her shoulders and took another swig from her own cup.
“Sam, why don’t you and the men go ahead on back down to the house? You can get ready there, and we’ll take care of everything up here.” Mrs. Wolfe took charge. I glanced at Mr. Wolfe and noticed his raised eyebrow in his wife’s direction. She smiled warmly at him. His expression softened but didn’t change. He jerked his head toward the door, a silent command for the men to follow him out.
“Wait. I’d like to talk to my grandpa for a minute first.”
“Don’t take too long” was Mr. Wolfe’s only comment.
Grandpa narrowed his eyes. “Now, Dominic, let’s not rush this.”
Mr. Wolfe grunted.
Sam flashed me an unreadable expression.
You okay? echoed in my brain. My breath hitched in my throat, totally taken off guard by the same trick I’d pulled forty-five minutes before.
I shook my head to clear it.
“Come here, Meggie-Girl.” Grandpa led me out the front door into the chilly morning, and I followed as he walked a few paces away, his cane handy, but not used. His knees must not be giving him too much trouble today.
He wrapped me up in his protective arms like he had since I was a child.
“You’re doing the right thing, Meggie. This will keep you safe and give your old grandpa peace of mind. Your Grandma Elsie would be pleased, too.” He hesitated a moment. “Do you want to wear her ring after today?”
Tears sprung to my eyes as I pictured the beautiful gold ring that had been my grandmother’s outward symbol of her marriage. It was a simple gold band set with a lustrous opal and two tiny diamond chips, one on each side. The thought of wearing it now just hurt. I didn’t want to be married to Sam Wolfe—I didn’t want to be married to anyone right now. Somehow the thought of wearing my grandmother’s ring now seemed to taint the purity of it. Like my wearing it through this fraudulent sham of a marriage would cheapen it.
I sniffed and shook my head. “No. I do want to wear it someday. But I want to wear it when I mean it. This…this is not…” I searched for the right words.
“It’s all right, sweetheart. I understand.” He hugged me tighter and kissed the side of my head. Traces of his spicy aftershave and a hint of his favorite orange spice tea wrapped around me like a blanket. He smelled like home. Like comfort. I wondered if I would ever associate any smell with that again. Snow and pine drifted through my brain as the wolf raised her head. I quashed the thought.
****
One hour later, I had yet to shift for a first time that day. We’d eaten brunch at a leisurely pace, and Mrs. Wolfe, who insisted I call her Mary, had also insisted on giving me a pedicure with the nail polish Rachel had packed. I was impressed with her humility and wondered how a woman who appeared kind and giving had ended up with a toughened piece of leather like Dominic Wolfe.
I glanced at my toes. They shone with a beautiful opalescent polish that reminded me of a muted aurora borealis.
“I won’t mess up my nails when I shift, will I? I mean, will it still be the same after?”
“The more in sync you are with your wolf, the less things change,” Mary explained. “I actually hadn’t thought of that. It might last; it might not. Your wolf may end up with some polished nails, too. If they need to be redone, we’ll redo them.”
Tammy snorted.
“Ever happen to you?” Rachel asked her.
“Fire engine red. I was mortified. I haven’t painted my nails since.”
“Tammy is a bit extreme. A lot of girls have interestingly colored nails. Especially in their early teen years. All those hormones can strain the link between wolf and woman,” Mary continued with a smile. “The older and more experienced you get, the more natural going between forms becomes. It’s just one of those things. It would be uncommon for a woman of my age to have her wolf’s claws painted.”
The conversation paused.
“Meg, I hope you don’t mind, but I brought something for you for today…” Rachel drifted off as she move
d to a garment bag I hadn’t noticed laid out on Sam’s bed.
I raised an eyebrow at her, already following where this was going. Anticipation and dread mingled with my breakfast. My wedding dress was in that bag. I really wasn’t sure why we were going to all this fuss. All I needed to do was sign a piece of paper and give my word. Mary sighed wistfully as Rachel held up the bag. I stopped short of rolling my eyes and tried not to offend my soon-to-be mother-in-law.
Rachel slowly unzipped the bag, and I immediately recognized what was inside. Rachel was co-president of the drama club. She had played a major role in nearly every production the high school had put on. What was in the bag was a beautiful white satin tea-length dress. The neck was wide and scooped and was edged out to show off a little shoulder and collarbone. The bodice was fitted, and the skirt flared out gently and would hit me just above the knee, since I knew it hit Rachel just below hers. It was her dress from last year’s play.
Her eyes searched my face, not sure if the offering of the dress was appropriate. It was kind of outrageously funny, but somehow fitting, that I would be marrying Sam Wolfe in a stage costume since everything else about this affair felt made up, too. But at the same time, a wistful longing twinged in my middle. Grandma would have loved this. It so reminded me of a classically elegant dress she would have worn back in the ’60s if she and Grandpa had gone out for an evening.
“It’s perfect,” I whispered. Mary clapped her hands, delighted. Tammy did roll her eyes, and I wondered what she was thinking.
The wolf was getting a little antsy, and it was making me nervous.
“Um…I think a shift might be coming on soon,” I stammered, trying not to be nervous. “Does Sam need to be here? I haven’t shifted on my own.”
“Oh, I can help you. You’ll be fine to shift. Especially with two of us here. Tammy might not be as dominant as you, but I am,” Mary offered as easily as she might have offered a glass of iced tea. “We’ll wait to do your hair until after.”
