by Holly Hook
"We can't get the police involved." A woman. Her words are froggy.
"The clearing, it is." A man. "Wyatt must stay buried there."
I shift and the cot whispers. A coarse blanket rests over my arm, so I flinch and throw it off. The world smells like dust, evaporated water, moldy cobwebs, and something metallic I can't identify. The next breath I take carries a woodsy smell that makes me think of Cayden. Though I've never sensed it before, my mind connects the scent with him.
Footsteps sound above, each one rehearsed and graceful. Floorboards creak. I'm in a house. Someone pours coffee up above. The liquid sloshes in the mug and I detect that in my next breath. Everything pops.
And most of all, the pain has cleared.
My eyelids flutter open and I find the same cellar where Cayden and Aunt May tried to soothe me. Only I occupy the cot. I'm alone. Everyone's upstairs in the kitchen of this house. I sit up with ease. All traces of the nightmare have vanished. Energy runs through my limbs like I need to go out for a run. Though I'm not a runner, the urge sweeps over me. I take another breath and a whole kaleidoscope of smells assaults me. How do I make sense of them all?
Cayden said—
Am I—
Standing, I grip the cot and lift. The entire bed rises from the floor as if I'm lifting my backpack and I only drop it again because the size makes holding it awkward.
Yes.
“Brie's awake,” Remo says from above. From his voice, I judge he's standing near the steps to the second floor.
“May,” Everly says. “Your niece is awake."
"I heard her," she says, nervous.
Every detail leaks through the ugly yellow insulation hanging from the rafters. Wyatt's dead. Grief hangs heavy in this house. My chest hurts as the image of Wyatt's broken form, reverted to the eager boy I drove to his death, returns.
I might throw up.
Aunt May's footsteps traverse the kitchen and head to where the door must be to the basement or cellar. I must be in the Lowes' home. I can smell the piney sap from the trees outside that surround the place. If I focus, I can detect a draft coming down the steps that lead up to the kitchen.
The door opens and I squint from the gray glow that fills the stairwell. Aunt May appears at the top. She also carries a wild smell, woodsy like Cayden's, but with an herbal trace. Our gazes meet. A flash of the blond-gray wolf with the bright blue eyes returns and I blink, trying to make sense of everything.
“It's answer time,” I say.
Aunt May nods. “I'm sorry. There was no way I wanted to bring you into this life.”
“I'm more angry you kept me out.”
She descends the steps like an old woman, gripping the rail like she might fall. I'm the reason she's taking her time. And for the first time, she is without her silver pendant.
“Brie, you've always been too eager, like your mother. Sometimes, you think you want something, and you really don't," she says. "Can I pull up a chair?” she asks.
I force myself to not roll my eyes. Aunt May's hesitating, but if sitting will make her more comfortable, I'm fine with it. “Go ahead.”
As I wait for her to go upstairs and bring one down, I sit on the cot and wrestle with the implications of what happened. The bite returns, and I reach for my injured shoulder to find smooth skin in its place. The arm of my peasant costume gapes open, dried blood highlighting the bite marks. More blood soaks the back of my dress from where my life tried to flow out of me. Peasant Belle encountered a Beast, all right.
I can make out every tiny hair in my skin, every minuscule fold. There's no trace of the injury that almost ended my life. I've healed. What it means explodes in my mind.
I'm—
Aunt May brings down a chair with ease. Now she moves with grace just like the Lowes though her blue gaze remains soft and caring.
“You're a werewolf?” I blurt.
“Yes, and now, so are you.” She pushes the words, gripping the sides of the chair.
“It's hard for you to tell the truth,” I say, trying to keep my tone light. “That's progress. Noble, or Savage?” My heart races. I was bitten by a Savage Wolf.
Aunt May forces a smile. “Your father's family is Noble, like the Lowes, and so are you. You can't be infected by a Savage Wolf. You were already Noble, but with your nature held back and disguised by silver. Even Cayden and his family couldn't smell what we are, though I might have told the Lowe parents."
"That's why we have our tradition?"
"Yes." She leans forward. "Brie, you're taking this well. Your father and I never made peace with what we are. We wanted out of the cycle of fighting, defending our territory, and protecting ourselves from the humans who wanted to kill us. Being werewolves destroyed our parents when we were young. They died defending the people of this town as their pack--and the Hunters--drove out a gang of Savage Wolves, who have been trying to take Breck for a long time. After our parents died, your father and I decided to bury our nature and join human society. We'd had enough. We thought the Savage Wolves had stopped trying to claim territory here and we wouldn't have to fight anymore. So before we reached puberty and gained the ability to shift, we found a solution." Aunt May pats her now-bare neck.
"A simple pendant?"
"A magical pendant," she says. "Forged from pure silver. Few like it exist in the world. Pure silver can stop a werewolf child from ever turning. Your mother's family provided them to us. Your father then married your mother. No more Savage Wolves appeared for years so we thought we were safe." She clears her throat and grips the sides of her chair. "We were wrong. Another pack arrived when you were a child."
"So my parents didn't die in a car accident?" I leap from the cot. “And my grandparents fought Savage Wolves?”
“Yes. Both sets. Noble Wolves, and Hunters. Your parents were both brave. They and their allies drove out the Savages."
“But you said Dad and your parents died from early heart disease.” Ever since I was young, the other kids would ask why I didn't have any grandparents, period. Until now I blamed bad genetics and even more terrible luck. "Everything you told me was a lie!"
"Brie, sit down."
"No."
Now I can blame something far more terrifying for having no family.
"This is the reality of our nature," Aunt May says. "Please, sit down. I wanted you to have a normal life. Can you blame me?"
"No," I admit, throat tightening. I sit. “I saw the letter."
“In the box?” Aunt May asks.
“You knew I got into it and you said nothing.”
“What could I say?” she asks. But at least she's no longer pushing the words out. We're having a normal conversation now. Well, as normal as this can get.
I have a lot more questions about my parents. How did they meet? I wonder if my mother tried to kill my father at any point and how many times Savage Wolves have tried to get into the wilderness around Breck. A history beckons. But instead, I ask, “How do I fit into my family, then? If my mother was a Hunter and my father was a suppressed werewolf—”
“Your parents,” Aunt May continues, “gave you the pendant so you would never turn, like your father. It kept you human and undetectable to werewolves who might smell competition in you. My pendant did the same for me. Cayden never thought you were anything other than human until I removed your pendant. Then your father's nature came through. As a werewolf, you could heal the injury."
“I would have died if you hadn't taken my pendant off,” I said.
“Yes.”
“I'm glad you did.”
Aunt May smiles. “Your heritage saved you. As a regular human, the bite from the Savage Wolf would have infected you. And you would have become like them had you survived."
I shudder as I think of that cast on Olivia's leg. How bad was her injury? I hope she's just being a brat and faking a lot.
My whole life was a lie, and what I sought—the truth—was in me the whole time, chained by a tiny sword pendant. Had Cayd
en known, he might not have gone to face five Baltic Wolves by himself. Wyatt wouldn't have had to die. I could have helped him and he might have let me.
He wouldn't have pushed me away.
Anger flashes. I rise from the cot again. “You still lied.”
Aunt May remains seated. “It's what your father wanted. I had to honor my word to him. He wanted you to stay safe. Your mother's father wanted you to carry on the Sterling tradition, and it caused strife between your parents.”
Before I can respond, the woodsy smell I connect with Cayden intensifies and his footsteps cross the kitchen. The basement door opens and Cayden steps through, descending and meeting me at the cot. Yes. The woodsy smell fills the cellar. But instead of embracing me as he had in my room that night, he's all business.
“Mom and Dad have decided that we will strike back against the Baltic Wolves,” he says. “We challenge them or we all have to leave.”
“But I thought your parents wanted a truce?” I think of Aunt May and my father, who wanted to stop fighting. After Wyatt, I understand why. Cayden was right when he said his life wasn't easy.
“Wyatt changed everything,” Cayden says, his voice dry. “We challenge them. If we don't, they'll harm the people who live here. And they're capable of doing that in either form.”
Aunt May nods. “Yes. They are.”
“Did you know what Travon was when he came into the store?” I ask her.
She shakes her head and reaches for the pendant that's no longer there. Her fingers close on nothing. “I kept myself suppressed for too long.”
I shrink back on the cot, ashamed at my anger. Aunt May tried her best. Now we have to face what we are and doing that could bring death.
“I'm going with you,” I say.
Cayden holds up a hand. “No. You're still just a new wolf and there's a lot to learn. You can't imagine. There's no way you're ready to fight yet.”
“Stop,” I say, standing so we're eye to eye. “Aunt May did."
"I surprised the Savage Wolf," she said. "Luck was on my side."
"You need the numbers. There were five guys. I know how you are, Cayden. We don't...we need no one else dying thanks to lack of backup. And there's no 'keeping me safe' excuse anymore. I feel stronger than I ever have and I can heal fast, too.”
Cayden swallows. The metallic smell returns. Is it fear? A whole new world has opened. “So could Wyatt.”
I shudder. More footsteps approach and the basement door opens again. A man with brown hair and a tall, strong build like Cayden's takes up the landing. His father. He stands with authority and confidence.
“We should let Brie come,” he orders. “May, too. The two will be an asset.” He glares at Cayden for a moment before retreating and shutting the door.
Cayden lets out a breath and looks into my eyes, helpless. “My father's the alpha. He decides for the family.”
“He's angry at you.”
“I know. I went against his orders without winning a challenge against him first.”
“But he's just one person. How can he decide for everyone?”
Aunt May wraps her bony fingers around my arm. “This is how it works.”
I say nothing. Cayden backs away and waves me up the steps. “I know you will come along even if he didn't want you to,” he says. “There's nothing I can do to stop you. We're a team now.”
* * * * *
It's morning. Probably Saturday. That much becomes clear when I climb into the spacious kitchen of the cabin house. The woodsy smell wafts off everyone and I imagine I now smell the same. It could be worse—much worse. Remo and Everly make a large breakfast of bacon and sausage, which makes my stomach rumble. A black-haired woman who must be the Lowe mother gestures around.
“Cayden, gas up the SUV and get back here,” she orders. “The rest of you, eat up. We need our strength at max when we challenge the Baltic Wolves. Brie, you need to eat. Your body has spent a lot of energy healing.”
I take a large plate of food and despite knowing what's coming today, I scarf everything down. I've never had an appetite like this, and though I know the truth now, I'm shocked when my reserved Aunt May does the same.
“We're taking the SUV?” I ask.
“It's the fastest way to reach the clearing where we faced the Baltic Wolves last night,” the Lowe father explains. Though he's stern, deep sadness lurks in his eyes. And there's something else, too: the savage glow of revenge. The Lowes have endured a pure nightmare.
I don't dare ask how the family can continue to function.
Cayden returns with the SUV as we finish eating, and my strength has increased since then. I feel as if I could run across the county and back, and the thought of scaling Quandary Peak doesn't faze me. This morning, I'm more than alive.
But I have to survive this first. It wouldn't be right if I didn't fight. I helped to get Cayden and Aunt May into this mess.
We pack in the SUV, and I lock hands with Cayden and squeeze. He does the same, gentle at first as if afraid he'll hurt me, but then he catches up once he remembers I'm not a jewel that needs protection anymore. He smiles at me and I return it as the others get into the vehicle.
Cayden's father drives us through downtown and out of town itself, leaving Breck behind. In the full daylight, the wilds look beautiful, with ancient trees towering overhead. It's a world of deep blue, green, and gold. In silence, we ride until he pulls over.
“Out,” he says. “The Baltic Wolves will scent us soon enough. It's a matter of waiting.”
Taking the same hike that Wyatt led me and Aunt May on just hours ago raises pain in my chest again, but for different reasons. He should be here, and I can tell that Cayden's fighting back emotion. He faces the ground as if he can't stomach coming up to this clearing again. But we climb, and I spend little effort this time. Scaling the rocks is easy as is keeping my breath.
At last, the flat clearing spreads out in front of us. Though the smells of the forest hang everywhere, a new smell stands out among the rest: a coppery scent on the wind that betrays blood. Disturbed earth stretches over the spot where Wyatt fell. The Lowe mother lets out a sob as she freezes in the clearing while her husband wraps his arm around her. But her emotion is short-lived.
I don't ask what they did with the Savage Wolf Aunt May killed.
“We wait,” Cayden's father says.
And we do. Aunt May settles near a jutting rock and I do the same. Cayden settles on the other side of me.
“You fought well,” I say, scanning the area for any corpses.
“I did?” Aunt May asks.
“I'm asking if I can learn to do it fast,” I say. Questions swirl I may never hear the answers to.
Cayden gulps. “It takes time to learn. Travon is no doubt the alpha of the Baltic Wolves. He'll be the most powerful.” Then he takes my arms. “Brie, go nowhere near him. Can you do that?”
“Don't be like your mother,” Aunt May begs.
A sense of power sweeps over me. I don't know if I can promise them anything. Strength flows through me, begging for use. I think of Cayden's caged look, and it makes me want to tear apart Travon and the others who have done this to him and the Lowe family. A chill covers me as I realize what I'm thinking.
And then a new smell follows.
It rides on the wind, powerful, carrying the essence of rotting wood, dark caves, dried blood, and death. I tense. Next to me, Cayden does the same. He sniffs and faces me. “They're coming.”
“Do Savage Wolves always smell this bad?”
But my question goes unanswered. The wind blows against my face, throwing the scent against me. Twigs snap in the distance as our enemies approach. Though I can't see them through the thick underbrush yet, I can hear their heavy footsteps. The confidence they throw into their gait. There must be four...five...no, seven. They match our numbers.
Cayden steps in front of me as the remaining Lowes do the same. Aunt May and I follow. We stand in a semicircle as Travon emerges from the un
derbrush first, sneering with his arrogant attitude. Instead of his suit, he wears jeans with a hole in the knee and a plaid shirt. He looks like a sophisticated lumberjack. The rotting wood smell fills the clearing. I wish I could tell him the impression he gives, but maybe he'd like that.
Three of the men from yesterday, one with a noticeable limp, step out to stand on either side of Travon. I hope the limping guy is the one I injured with the silver knife, and I'm glad the injury hasn't yet healed.
And then three more people step out, two young women and another young man. Travon is the oldest, and from the look on his face, the most confident out of us all.
“Travon,” Cayden's father says. “You've crossed the line. The truce is off.”
The opposing alpha says nothing.
“You need to leave,” the mother orders. “This is our territory and you are violating it. After you killed our son,” she says, voice breaking, “after you killed him, there will never be a truce again. This is your final chance.”
But Travon shakes his head. “Noble Wolves. You'd destroy our kind if you could, allying with Hunters. You don't understand. Nature is about dominance, and the same is true for our kind. There is no room for truces. We are the stronger pack, and we will fight to the death.” He throws off his plaid shirt, revealing a chest with zigzag scars. Travon has faced silver injuries before.
He's the first to shift. Within two seconds, joints pop, bones snap, fur sprouts, and the vicious gray wolf stands before us.
Everyone jerks and the air fills with the horrendous sounds of shifting. I back away in shock, and for the first time I wonder what I've gotten myself into. Cayden growls, now a black wolf, and steps past me as if warning me back. Aunt May, the gray-blond wolf, does the same, joining Cayden's parents at the front of the pack. Several gray and brown wolves oppose us, baring their teeth. Cayden's father, the brown wolf, circles around Travon.
A sandy wolf, one of the Baltic women at the end of the line, singles me out, facing me, stepping around the others and approaching one slow step at a time. A challenge. The Baltic Wolf growls again. Behind it, jaws snap and claws fly as the other wolves choose their opponents and fight. The air fills with the smell of blood, mixing with the decaying forest.
