by Kat Zaccard
“Howl High?” Damka tried uncertainly, choosing the common nickname for Mt. Henley’s high school.
Hayley suddenly shouted, “What about ‘Fur Patrol?’” And we were done for; we were laughing so hard that when Coach Murry came in, she had to shout to be heard over our hilarity. We calmed ourselves down and tried to listen politely to Coach, biting our cheeks with mirth.
We practiced shifting after that, and I was pleased to see Hayley shift easily. Her black wolf still sported purple streaks in her fur. After some time and encouragement, Fanya surprised herself and shifted as well. Her wolf was tawny and grey and her brain signature was a spring green with happy purple spiraling around and through. She bounded over to Shea to practice tail twitches and pouncing.
Sara was looking constipated, so I shifted back to human and talked to her for a bit. I distracted her by asking about Lola. She missed her but didn’t begrudge her not wanting to be on patrols.
“She doesn’t begrudge you either,” I said, getting a hint at the heart of the matter. “She’s proud of you and your strength. She won’t mind if you have a few more days under the moon than she will.”
“Yes she will,” scoffed Sara, but not unkindly.
“Well, then she’ll have to come to practice. Come on, Sara. I know you can do this. Just think back to last month. How did the moon feel on your fur?” I shimmered into my wolf and looked at her, projecting calming thoughts. My wolf grinned, and in a moment, Sara grinned back at me. Shift, I thought.
I shivered, and she shimmered. The next moment, her wolf was there. Her brain signature was electric blue with excitement. The gray doubts that usually wove through her thoughts were thin wisps, barely discernable. She barked in excitement and bounded over to Hayley and Shea, who encouragingly pounced on her. My grin faltered. I hadn’t really done anything, had I?
I glanced over at Damka; she looked sad to be the last one left on two legs. I trotted over to her and sat down. She sat next to me and sighed. I leaned into her shoulder. Try, I thought, though I wasn’t sure if I was talking to myself or her. I stepped back and shifted.
“Try again, Damka.” She looked at me and stood up.
“Okay, work your magic, Alice.” She smiled to show she meant the words kindly. I grinned back.
“Close your eyes and take a deep breath.” I felt like my mom’s yoga teacher as I guided her to relax her mind. Then I spoke about the moon, asked her to picture the full moon in her mind’s eye, and to remember her last full moon. The air shifted and I peeked at her. She looked noticeably relaxed. I whispered, “Now try.”
I thought she shone a bit as if the shimmer of shifting was about to begin, but then the whistle blew, signaling the end to class. The rest of our pack, still unnamed, though Hayley was really pushing for Fur Patrol, returned, and we headed to the lockers. Fanya was ecstatic and Sara, more animated than usual, was excitedly talking about her extra day under the moon. Damka looked less enthused.
“Cheer up, Damka; you almost had it. I swear if that whistle hadn’t blown, I thought you were about to shift.”
“You think?” She looked up at me as we got to the locker room.
“Definitely,” I said as I held the door for her. “Wait until tomorrow; you’re bound to get it.”
“That’d still be an extra day for me, four under the moon,” she said excitedly as she pulled her blonde hair into a ponytail.
“Yeah, and who knows? Maybe even five if we can get the day after the three full moon nights,” I added. Basing time around the full moon was awkward sometimes, but she knew what I meant.
“You’re right! I’ll still have a day or two after the full moon days to practice. Thanks, Alice!”
We went to our lockers to change and join in Fanya and Sara’s exuberance and the easy comradery of our new junior patrol pack. We finished changing and were lacing up shoes when Jillian’s high heels came into view. I looked up expecting a challenge, but she stomped past us, her bottle blonde brigade in tow.
“There goes the Bottle Blonde Brigade,” I muttered before I could help myself. I looked at Shea, Sara, and Damka, totally embarrassed. “Not that I have anything against blondes, even bottle blondes. My best friend is blonde. I wish I could pull off blonde.”
Shea and Damka cut off my ramble with a laugh. “We get it,” said Sara graciously. Boy, she was in a good mood.
“And Jillian has given you no end of grief,” added Shea.
“What I saw was practically treason,” Fanya stated.
“I know I shouldn’t care, but with Jillian and her friends, I don’t know. I think maybe the chemicals are seeping into their brains.” I sighed in annoyance. I didn’t want the sight of someone to annoy me. I had to let it go, but it was way easier said than done.
“Hey, even a princess is entitled to her feelings,” said Hayley matter-of-factly. “That girl is a pain-in-the-butt, and she stole your betrothed. Who wouldn’t be a little salty?”
Fanya gasped and Damka clapped her hands together. “This is why I love hanging out with royalty; you get all the good gossip!” exclaimed Damka.
“That is definitely treason,” seethed Fanya, forgetting her half-braided hair.
“No seriously, guys, I don’t even want him. I wish the betrothal got annulled. I can’t believe it didn’t pass,” I complained. We left the locker room and headed back towards the dorms.
“I’m not,” said Sara, back to her less than tactful self. “My parents were incensed at the idea, annulling a betrothal. They wish they could have betrothed me to royalty.”
“Well, you dodged a bullet there,” I congratulated her.
“In more ways than one!” We all laughed, even though the idea of being betrothed was barbaric, and worse, to think it might override sexual orientation in a court of law.
Hayley must have wondered the same thing. “Too bad you can’t say you’re gay to get out of the marriage.”
“Hey, that’s offensive,” Shea said.
“Relax. I’m the lesbian here; its fine,” Sara adjudicated.
“I wish I was, then I’d have a case,” I said not quite jokingly.
“What about the surname plan?” asked Shea.
“Shh! I don’t know if that will work, but it can’t get out,” I shushed her. We were closer to the gardens and students were milling about, enjoying the warmth of late summer while it lasted.
Fanya and Damka looked interested but resisted the urge to ask. Hayley wasn’t so polite. “Spill,” she demanded.
“Wait,” said Sara. Was she coming to my defense? “Let me go get Lola.” Of course not.
They rounded up the troops. Shea went to grab Adam, who was among the kids milling about, clearly waiting for her. Anatoly, Cas, and Jaro joined us, and I knew this was getting way out of hand.
“You guys, do you not realize it’s a secret plan?” Anatoly looked mock-offended, while Jaro, Cas, and Hayley pretended to be the monkey statues—see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. Sara just rolled her eyes and gestured for me to get on with it.
We settled on the lawn away from other students. I looked over at Anatoly. “I don’t want to cause an international incident here,” I teased, though only half-joking.
“Your Majesty’s secrets are safe with me,” Anatoly said formally.
“Your Royal Highness,” corrected Fanya.
“Huh?” said Shea.
“Your Majesty is the title of the reigning monarch,” Lola explained. “Your Royal Highness is the appropriate title for a prince or princess.” Lola often cited information that I half expected her to say she read about it in Werewolf Royal Genealogy: a Guide for Etiquette, or How to Not Make an Ass of Yourself in Front of the Queen. Actually, I could use a book like that.
I’d zoned out on the conversation and tuned back in to hear Anatoly declare, “I am well aware of social convention, being a Prince myself. But in my humble opinion, the Lost Princess Luna outranks us all. She is the true queen, and therefore, we should call her ‘Your Maje
sty’ forever.”
“What did I say earlier about the royal we?” I teased, a little embarrassed and a little exasperated. Anatoly liked to make bold statements and grand gestures; too bad he was speaking to the audience and not to me. Still, I appreciated his sentiment, and was all the more glad I was technically off the market. His attention clearly annoyed Fanya, and I wasn’t too happy with the look Hayley shot our way either.
“He wasn’t there for that, but I have an idea,” Hayley interjected. “How about we let you in on the secret if you swear fealty to Alice?”
Lola looked alarmed. “That could be dangerous.”
Hayley rolled her eyes. “I don’t mean for real, like in front of the council. I mean more like a blood oath without the messy blood part. Take a serious oath committing our allegiance to the future reign of Queen Alice … then you can get in on the inner circle.” Hayley laughed, and I knew to her this was all a game.
“What you don’t realize is this is exactly the kind of fuel the Queen Regent needs to gather support against Alice. She’s already in line to be queen; gathering an army would be a threatening act.”
“She’s not gathering an army, Lola!” admonished Shea.
“No, but you do make a point, Lola. It could be used against you, Your Majesty,” Anatoly put in, to which Fanya raised her eyebrows as the title held the weight of an oath. By silent mutual agreement, they all decided at once:
“Your Majesty,” they affirmed one by one on bended knee.
My cheeks grew red, and I swatted them away. “You are all embarrassing me! I order you to stop.”
We all laughed at that, then Adam quipped, “Okay, we’re all your loyal subjects. Tell us the plan.”
I filled them in on the council meeting and my failed motion to annul the betrothal. It was interesting to hear Anatoly’s take on things since his uncle had filled him in on the meeting’s agenda and outcome.
“It’s a risky move to stand against the Dolph family. They are many and their reach is far. Still, I bet we can find a way to deliver you from this, how did you put it, monstrous, barbaric outdated law?”
“You don’t seem convinced,” observed Shea.
Casimir turned on his charm as he interjected, “It is the way of the pack, the old way.” Seeing the look on Shea’s face, he amended, “But there are more than a few outdated ideas in our culture.”
Adam stepped closer to Shea. I wished he didn’t get so threatened every time a boy spoke to her. However, seeing how Cas looked at Shea like they were the only two in the clearing, maybe Adam had something to worry about after all.
Jaro cleared his throat and added, “There’re certainly more than a few outdated laws.”
Soon it was time for dinner and we parted ways to go to our respective dorms. It felt good to have a group of friends I could count on. My heart was full. I was lucky and grateful. I’d thought finding Shea was the best gift ever. Looking around at my friends, new and old, I felt truly rich.
Chapter 12
The next day, Damka was able to shift when we practiced with Coach Murry and our group was the first group to meet up with Olaf for junior patrol training. He debriefed us, choosing pack leaders as groups arrived. I saw Jillian with her clique in tow and wasn’t surprised to see Olaf name her alpha of their group.
“Four days already, Alice?” she teased. “You must be really working hard.”
“Try nine, Jillian. Alice has more days under the moon than any other student,” Shea retaliated before I could stop her.
“That’s a lie!” cried Jillian.
“You wish.” Hayley laughed as she picked through her hair. “Come on, girls,” she said to the rest of us as she tucked her pick in her bathrobe pocket and shifted easily into her wolf. I loved how the purple streaks in her hair came through her wolf fur. I figured Laureine had dyed her green streaks to mimic Hayley, but her wolf was dark brown and the green didn’t show through well.
Our patrol took off and we avoided Jillian’s group for the rest of the afternoon. We practiced our signals and I memorized my new friend’s brain signatures. Damka was a projector and broadcasted her feelings pretty loudly. Fanya had a thicker shield. I knew she’d be stealthier in the field. I filed all this information away, learning my pack and assessing their strengths. In that moment I wished I didn’t have to be queen. Being a lead patrol was the life.
The next few days we improved as the moon waxed full then began to wane. Damka was able to shift the day after the full moon but not the following. She wasn’t discouraged, though, and was thrilled to be in club five, having five full days under the moon.
Before I knew it, it was September eighteenth and my birthday. I was finally seventeen. Shea, Hayley, Sara, Lola, and I all went to the movies that afternoon. We headed to Luciana’s Café to meet up with the gang afterward and have dinner. Diego showed up after patrols and helped his mom bring a giant cake to our tables. He pulled out his guitar and everyone sang “Happy Birthday” to me, first in English, then French, and Spanish. I was bright red but so happy. Diego squeezed himself in between Anatoly and me on the bench. I wasn’t certain, but Sara might have been bumped off the end to accommodate. I didn’t care and didn’t hide my smile that his body was pressed close to mine. I hadn’t seen him since school began; it was like forgetting you missed oxygen.
We didn’t get a chance to say much to each other; everyone was gabbing and laughing. Hayley presented me with a few gifts and Shea shyly pulled out a small package.
“Gifts! You guys shouldn’t have! But I’m so glad you did!” They laughed, and I opened presents. Shea gave me an unlined journal with a soft green cover that I loved. Sara had gotten me ankle weights so I could “train harder and fatten up some.” Adam gave me a lovely vase I watched him make in class last week. It was beautiful. Hayley gave me a book on krav maga and a few designer clothes. Anatoly gave me a topaz and diamond necklace. Everyone “oohed and ahhed,” but I felt Diego next to me stiffen. “Anatoly, this is beautiful, but it’s way too much. I can’t accept it.”
“Nonsense, it suits you. Do not dishonor the Royal Clan Ivanov by refusing our gift,” he said formally, then added in a stage whisper, “My uncle will kill me!”
Everyone laughed and I responded, “Well, to spare your neck I suppose. Do tell Aleksandr that I adore it.” I smiled but didn’t like the wolfish gleam in Anatoly’s eyes. I really was trying to avoid a diplomatic incident. Still, the necklace was lovely. I carefully placed it back in its velvet box and reached for another piece of cake.
We finished up and made our goodbyes. Shea headed out with Adam and agreed to meet me back at the dorms. The rest of the group refused to leave without me and I ushered them outside, promising to join them in a minute. “I want to box up the rest of the cake!” I exclaimed honestly.
I went back in to get the cake, which Diego had already boxed for me. “Thank you.” I smiled at him. “Tell your mom it was my favorite.”
“I do have something for you too,” Diego said softly. We were by the now empty large table. It was a weeknight, so the other patrons were far enough away that we weren’t overheard. “I don’t know if I should give it to you, though.” Was Diego acting shy? Was he embarrassed?
“Can I have it? I’m sure I’ll love it,” I said earnestly, but my stomach flip-flopped at the word “love” and I desperately wished I’d said anything else.
Diego looked through his long, dark lashes and grinned at me. “Okay, but don’t laugh.”
“Never,” I promised with a nervous laugh that earned me a glower. Loved his glower. So cute. I shook myself out of my befuddlement and was surprised to see him return with his guitar case.
“I know it’s cheesy, but I wrote you a song.”
“Really?” I squealed. My cheeks reddened, but there was no other word for it; I squealed.
He grinned again and strummed a few chords. After a moment of tuning, he began, slow and melodic. The sound was a beautiful melody that made me think of the running
through the woods. I listened intently as the song continued to build tempo with a sharp break at the bridge. A moment of silence and he picked up the sweet melody again, softer like a rainbow after a storm. The song ended, and I felt a tear pool on my lashes.
“That was beautiful,” I whispered before the rest of the patrons broke into applause. I’d forgotten we weren’t the only two in the room.
“You liked it?” he asked.
“I do,” I replied. I cleared my throat. “What do you call it?”
“Full Moon Run.” He smiled, and I wondered if he was telling the truth.
“Thank you.”
Just then, Hayley poked her head inside the door, “Come on, Alice. Let’s go. Oops, sorry. We’ll be good.” She smirked and went back outside.
Diego smiled. “I guess you’re needed elsewhere.”
“I’m seventeen now,” I blurted.
“Yeah,” he agreed, “that’s how birthdays work.”
“Yeah, well, you’re eighteen, which is only a year older than me, and that‘s not old at all.” Oh my God, shut up shut up shut up!
“True, but—” he started.
“I’m not saying anything, I’m just saying don’t act like you’re oh so much older than me or anything. I’m old enough. I know stuff. That’s all.” What in the hell was I saying? I sounded like a child trying to prove I was a grownup. Maybe chemicals were seeping into my brain after all.
“Alice, I…” Diego started.
“Alice, let’s go! Lola wants to get home before dark.” Sara had poked her head in this time, and was not taking “no” for an answer.
“I’m coming!” I snapped at her. “Diego, forget it, I just... Thanks for the song. It was really beautiful.”
“You’re welcome.” He smiled at me. He held my gaze a moment longer than necessary, stalling for time. I wanted to say more, and was I fooling myself into thinking so did he? Time caught up with the present, and he nodded goodbye.
