by Holly Hook
I round the boulder, slowing for a few seconds, and search ahead for him. We're heading into the wilds now, where ancient gods must sleep. Cayden stops at the top of two more boulders. Even from two hundred feet away, I see him tremble. Something's coming over him. I freeze, not sure what to do. Call the ambulance? They'll never get out here in time to help if he starts foaming at the mouth.
Then he lurches down, limbs going into spasm as he lands on the other side of the outcrop.
"Cayden," I breathe, breaking into a full run again.
A snapping sound follows.
A rip.
And then a growl.
I stop. A large, black shape leaps up from behind the rocks, landing on the massive root of an old tree.
A wolf. And it's a huge wolf with black fur and deep red highlights. The creature faces away from me as its ears rise, trying to pick up the forest's secrets.
The sight paralyzes my legs. I grip a narrow tree trunk, not breathing, praying that the wind will carry my scent away from this and any other creature that roams these parts. Ice grips my body and refuses to release its hold.
The wolf bolts ahead, crashing underbrush and vanishing.
I remain in place for eternity, not daring to breathe or move.
Cayden—
At last, I release the tree. Creeping forward, I step over the pile of rocks, daring another breath.
Cayden's jacket lies over another small boulder. His jeans lie on the ground, ripped down the side and forgotten among the dead needles. His shirt, empty and deflated, lies on top as if it's lost a fight.
There's no Cayden.
"Cayden?"
A twig snaps.
My heart leaps into my throat, pounding out a warning.
The wolf has returned, and this time he sees me.
He stands fifty feet away, magnificent and dark. The sun strikes his fur, bringing out red, but it's his eyes that freeze me to the core.
Are they hazel?
Savage, or scared?
The wolf turns, and in a perfect Cayden fashion, runs.
* * * * *
Cayden is a werewolf. There's no longer any doubt.
I turn over in bed, fighting an urge to pull my blanket of safety over my head. Closing my eyes brings the image back of him lurching to the ground. Him springing back up as a wolf. The scene plays over and over until I'm sure it'll show itself every night for the rest of my life.
As much as I don't want to, I kick the blankets off my bed, leaving myself in just my pajamas. It's too hot in my room, despite the cool air that caresses the outside. Sleeping on the top floor always has this result whenever it's not winter, but tonight, the heat is unbearable and as sticky as today's memory.
I dress and head downstairs, entering a cooler layer of the house. Opening the fridge, I find nothing that should help me sleep. Aunt May hasn't had time to make cookies or even leave any leftovers. Then my thoughts drift to her lawyer visit over the weekend she still hasn't explained. Guilt washes over me for letting that leave my mind, even for a day or two.
The swing beckons, so I open the back door as quiet as I can and head outside. Relieving coolness washes over me, taking the stickiness away as I head to the back swing. The field stretches out below and I have a thought I should stay in the house—there are werewolves out here, after all—but there's no comfort inside, either.
I sit and take a deep breath. There's no way Cayden can be a werewolf. Any sane person would spin their gears, searching for a rational explanation. Sitting on the swing, I make it squeak as it rocks back and forth. The noise drifts into the night as I take a breath of the cool night air.
Cayden's so hot that I lose my mind around him. Now I know why there are so many songs about the opposite sex driving you crazy. Or maybe just being in the woods is playing tricks on my mind. Some chemicals in my brain fired off at the wrong time. Now I feel like one of those super-skeptical, scientific types who dismiss every strange sighting people have. Until now, I've never sat down and thought about any of that stuff.
A howl in the distance rises, covering the night. I freeze on the swing which groans from the change in momentum. Taking a breath, I listen to the sound drag out as ice spreads through my muscles. I turn into a statue, riveted to the spot.
Silence.
Prickles cover my skin. I should go inside, but I can't. If I move, the wolf out there might hear me. There's at least two. The other day, Cayden raced toward a second howl in the woods.
Weeds rustle in the field. Panic seizes my heart and injects it with terror. I grip both sides of the swing just in case and eye the house for a second. It's dark and there's a small chance I might make it in time—
A human figure steps out of the field and into the backyard. Now it's an intruder about to rob the house or worse—
He steps into the light of the waning moon. I glimpse dark hair and a perfect build. The figure walks with familiar grace and confidence. He wears form-fitting jeans and a dark T-shirt that matches his hair.
"Cayden," I breathe.
He strides towards me as if it's normal to appear out of the dark. "Hey, Brie."
I tighten my grip on the swing handles. My tense muscles and racing heart tell me to run. Tonight, he wears his black jacket, too. The same one he threw down in the woods. Now that he's here, I push all doubt away. Cayden shifted into a wolf form and ran into the wilderness.
"So this is where you live," he says. "I do a lot of walking around here. It gets me out of the house so I can think. My sneaking up on you doesn't bother you, does it?"
"No," I lie. Does it? I'm not sure what to do. An image of the wolf fills my thoughts, making it hard to speak around it. But Cayden shows no signs of that now. Except for his hearing. The swing doesn't make that much noise. Maybe he smelled me instead.
"I think tomorrow is when we find out our roles in the play," Cayden says. "Are you nervous?"
"We all know how it will go," I say. "Well, maybe you don't, but the rest of us have been in Breck long enough to know Olivia will get the lead. Mr. Saffron loves her." My words feel automatic like I'm disconnected from them. A crazy butterfly of hope flutters in my chest for a moment, but then fear crushes it again. I'm talking to someone who can turn into a wild animal.
"A lot of teachers play favorites," Cayden says. "I can see it in the way Mr. Saffron interacts with everyone. Well, you never know. You did great at the audition. I think you'll get a good role in the play. You might even get the lead."
"Thanks."
"You don't sound very enthused."
"Stress." Cayden's talking and not turning away. I'm blowing it. Fear tightens my throat as I stand up from the swing. If I'm standing, I can reach the back door and get inside if I need to. I won't end up tripping on the swing. I grip my silver pendant. Maybe that's why Cayden has so many mood swings around me.
He takes a step towards me.
A predatory step?
I back away.
"What's wrong?" Cayden lifts one eyebrow in a swoon-worthy way. Though I can't make out the color of his eyes in the dark, I can imagine the wild beast within.
My back hits the trunk of the swing tree. I'm doing fantastic, acting as if I'm not afraid. Why am I even hoping I'll get the lead tomorrow?
Does Cayden remember what he saw in his wolf form? In some werewolf legends the cursed don't remember what they do in wolf form.
"I know what you are," I blurt.
Cayden jolts. He opens his eyes all the way as if he's feigning shock. He's an actor, too. What I'm seeing resembles a miming routine.
"What do you think you're talking about?" he asks, injecting his words with that fake shock. Maybe he's trying to downplay the question. Or he doesn't know he's a werewolf. But he must if he ran into the woods, tore off his jacket, and jumped behind those rocks...
"I know you saw me," I say. He has to know where I'm going.
Cayden takes a step back. "Look, I don't know what you think you saw, but you're wrong." A defe
nsive wall grows with each word. He whirls and bolts into the field, crashing weeds like an animal fleeing from a hunter.
He vanishes into the dark.
I grip my pendant for what feels like minutes. At last, I let it go, convinced that he's gone.
I know what I saw.
And Cayden does, too.
Chapter Thirteen
Sweat breaks out on my palms as Noah and I approach the paper taped just outside the stage entrance the next morning. Sarah traces her finger down the list as we approach. My heart leaps into my throat as Sarah stands aside to let us check out the list. The look on her face tells me all I need to know, but for a second, I pretend I don't see it.
A giant boot crushes the hope butterfly as I read the list.
Once again, Olivia has the lead. She's playing Belle. Her name is in bold at the top of the list, complete with a star.
Tracing my finger down and angry at myself for daring to hope, I scroll until I find my name in the chorus for several smaller roles and again at the bottom of the paper, listed as an understudy.
To Olivia, who never gets sick. Who will revel in the fact.
"Why did I bother?" I mutter to myself.
"Huh?" Noah asks.
"To hope."
"You have a few decent roles," he says. "Looks like we're both the lead understudies. That's not too bad. So what if we're the off brand? It's the same thing, just in a less expensive package."
I smile. Noah always has a way of making me feel better.
I stand aside to let Ellie check out the list. She's with me in the chorus. I'm not shocked about Cayden getting the lead. "Not bad," Ellie says. "I'll have to tell my parents to be here right at the start if I'm townspeople."
I sigh, feeling worse.
"Look," Noah says, pointing at the paper. "Cayden got the other lead. I have to admit, the guy deserves it." Noah lets no disappointment creep into his voice. How does he do that?
"Thank you," Cayden says from behind.
He stands there in the hall, arms folded over his back. He rocks back and forth on his feet, maintaining a perfect balance.
"You snuck up on us!" I shout. Like a predator...I shake my head, casting away the thought.
"Congrats on landing so many roles," Cayden says. "You got three. Plus you're an understudy." Squinting, he studies the paper behind us. His vision must be great if he can read the small print from that distance.
"Thanks," I say, breathing to calm my racing heart.
He grins. "You worked hard for it, Brie."
Now he's acting like last night didn't happen, like I didn't all but accuse him of being a werewolf. What is with him? But his smile charms and dispels the dark green cloud of envy that's threatening to eat me inside.
"I'll see you at rehearsals this evening," Cayden says.
"Cayden."
It's his sister, leveling a warning glare at him.
"Yes?" he asks with mock politeness.
"You'll get in trouble," she says, grabbing his arm and tugging. "Our parents are going to explode."
"They're volcanoes?" Noah asks.
"Nah," Cayden says. "Keep this a secret, okay, Ev?"
His sister sighs.
"Cayden's capable of doing things on his own," I say. "Why should he pass up an opportunity like this?"
He winks at me while still facing his sister. She flicks her gaze to me. Her hazel eyes match Cayden's. Twins for sure. "Fine," she says to him. "It's a secret. But do nothing stupid, okay?"
"See you," Cayden hisses at me as he follows her back down the hall.
"Is there something between you two?" Noah asks once Cayden and his sister turn the corner, leaving us alone.
"No," I say, shaking my head and overacting. He's dangerous, even with that wink and the grin.
But I want to get closer to him.
He's got a draw, and I'm afraid I can't resist it.
* * * * *
"Mr. Saffron must have felt bad for you."
Olivia sweeps past me as she dances with Noah since Cayden hasn't showed up yet. I stand at the sidelines, singing my lines for the ballroom scene as Mr. Saffron stands and watches everyone stumble around everything. The playbook I hold trembles in my grasp. Noah hasn't heard her because he continues his dance steps as my words get tangled in my throat.
So I catch myself. "What a brat, what a brat," I sing instead of the usual lines. Next to me, Ellie smirks.
Mr. Saffron waves his arms. "Cut!" He glares at us chorus people, us living clocks and teapots. "I know this is the first rehearsal, but we won't get very far if we don't focus. We need to sync up these dance moves along with the tune." His voice echoes around the yet-to-be-soundproofed stage. He's only speaking to us while Olivia gets a free pass. Usual.
The auditorium door opens and Cayden bursts through. "Sorry I'm a little late," he says, taking the stage steps two at a time. "Family." The two of us share a look and I nod, understanding.
But Mr. Saffron waves Noah away from Olivia. Noah frowns. He's been enjoying himself. Mr. Saffron motions for Cayden and Olivia to join in the center stage. "We need to cover all the scenes at least once today," he says. "Next one. I need everyone in position. Understudies, make sure you watch your leads just in case some terrible accident happens."
Olivia stares at me from the corner of her eye and turns her purple lip up into a smile. She doesn't need to say it. Not once has she ever fallen ill during a play and this year won't be any different. Knowing her, she's already memorized all her lines, knowing she'd get the lead. Olivia never has a thing to worry about.
Then she places her hands on Cayden's biceps. Noah backs away, a shadow of hurt falling over his features. This pains him as much as it does me.
We begin the next dance, and as the soundtrack plays from Mr. Saffron's stereo, I dance with Ryan Specterbaum and among other pairs as the music plays. Noah sweeps past me with Ellie. He won't take his gaze off Olivia and Cayden as they dance together as a pair of leads do. Olivia rubs her thumb over Cayden's bicep as we sweep past each other. Cayden turns his back to me, leaving me unable to read his expression.
A lump forms in my throat.
Noah gives me a thumb-up of encouragement as he passes me again. He dispels the hurt. If he can handle this, so can I. We all move in a ring, caught in our roles, with Cayden and Olivia at the center.
Beauty and the Beast.
If only she knew the truth of the title.
But Noah's here. He's right. I need to focus on my role. That's all that matters. Letting jealousy get in the way won't help me. The last thing I need to do is let Olivia make me mess up any more than I already have.
A foot wraps around my ankle.
The world goes out from under me. I fall against Ryan as he tries to catch me, but his hand slips off my arm and I land on my knee. I glimpse Olivia's designer jeans sweep past and a guilty foot retreating to its position before the world stops.
"Whoa," Mr. Saffron says. "I'm sure we have none of those track hurdles on the stage."
Face heating, I won't dare look at Olivia. Is she that immature?
"Are you okay?" Olivia asks in her sweet voice.
I don't respond. She backs away and Cayden takes her place, leaving her behind. He glances at her for a split second before our gazes meet. "Hey. Let me help you up."
He slips his hand into mine, closing it.
His grip is warm. Strong.
A tingle races through my palm and up my arm. I stare into Cayden's hazel eyes, his noble eyes, as he smiles at me and Olivia watches.
"Thanks," I say.
There is something here.
Something, if only Cayden would open.
He nods. "Any time, Brie."
If she were a cartoon, Olivia would give off plumes of smoke.
Chapter Fourteen
"Have you heard about the play yet?" Aunt May asks.
I pour her coffee for her as she shuffles through her purse for something. It sloshes out and burns my hand, which I
pull back before she can see. "It's the usual," I say.
She faces me, blue eyes sympathetic. "Olivia?"
"Duh," I say.
"That girl is the sort who won't go anywhere in life," Aunt May says. "I've seen her around town. She thinks everyone should just hand her everything. What's that word?"
"Entitled?"
"Entitled," Aunt May says. "I know not everyone in your generation is like that. There are people like that in mine, too. So please don't think I'm throwing that word at you."
"Thanks." I smile at her. "I'm sorry I can't help at the store as much as before." Rehearsals will take up time.
"That's okay. You're young and you deserve to pursue your passions," she says, setting her purse down and twirling her keys on her finger. "You shouldn't have the worries of a store owner. And did you hear howling last night?"
Her question freezes me.
"Howling?"
"So you must not have," she says. "I bet you were out cold after having such a long day."
"Yeah. I must have been," I say, curious at what she will tell me next. I hand Aunt May her coffee.
She smiles a thanks. "I might have to call someone if there's a pack of wild dogs roaming around out there. There are little kids in the area and peoples' pets."
I want to ask her if she's sure it's not werewolves, but I stop myself. If Aunt May calls someone, they might hurt the wolves—wolves that have done nothing.
They might hurt Cayden.
My stomach turns over, churning my breakfast.
"Are you sure you heard nothing?" Aunt May asks.
"I'm sure," I say, hiking my backpack up and leaving for school.
"Be careful," Aunt May says. She eyes my pendant for a moment before looking away.
Nothing unusual happens on the way to class. If Aunt May dismisses the howls as a freak occurrence, she might call no one. Thoughts of warning Cayden swirl through my head. And if he's a werewolf, what about the rest of his family? His mysterious twin sister? Maybe that's why they don't want him to mingle with the rest of us.
