by H G Lynch
Thankfully, Des stepped in to break the tension. He snapped his fingers. “Ravishing! Yes, that’s the word I was looking for!”
I looked at him, giving him a knowing look. Over my head, I felt Dom giving him a glower.
With an unladylike snort that was at odds with my very feminine dress, I said, “Somehow, I don’t think that was the word that you were really looking for, Des.”
He just shrugged, unashamed. I put my hands on my hips, three pairs of eyes went to my breasts as the draping collar parted further, and crossed my arms instead, face burning. “Oh my God! Stop eyeing me like I’m a piece of choice meat!”
All three of them snorted in response. I glared at each of them in turn, Des first and Spencer last. Only Dominic had the grace to look even slightly abashed. He tugged on one of his curls, not meeting my eyes. Spencer’s mouth twitched into a one-sided, and not entirely amused, smile.
“Trust me, if we were eyeing you like meat, you’d know the difference,” he said, his tone unexpectedly serious.
I frowned and turned away from him, partly because looking at him shirtless made me feel funny and…melty. There was no other word for the strange feeling of my stomach slowly turning to warm mush inside me. Then Frank raised his voice, and I jumped.
“Attention please!” he bellowed.
We all turned to face him. He stood in front of the giant oak tree, the light of the lanterns haloing his large form, casting his stretched shadow across the clearing. Like Spencer, and unlike the rest of the pack, the alpha was wearing jeans instead of shorts. His broad chest was bare, though. He was a lot more muscular than I’d thought, but it was a kind of blocky musculature, nothing like his sons’ lean and defined bodies.
Frank raised his thick arms, motioning for silence, and the crowd fell quiet. With a broad smile, he boomed, “Welcome, my friends and family, my pack, to the full moon of August!”
A cheer went up from the crowd, yips and howls joining the human roars of excitement. Frank grinned savagely, more a baring of teeth than a smile. He held his hands out for silence, and the group hushed so he could continue.
“I know that times have been trying lately. We have faced threats from the neighbouring pack, but we have concluded our differences peacefully! We have promised a joining of our two packs to come, which will bring us much strength, and I believe it will be good for us!” Frank roared, and yelps of agreement rose from his gathered pack members.
“We have also seen much happiness this month! Young Annie Changed for the first time at the beginning of the month! Laura, our sweet Laura, has turned fifteen!”
He pointed beefy fingers at the girls, and Annie shied into Sarah’s legs as the crowd clapped proudly. Laura raised her chin, looking solemn and dignified. Frank waved for the clapping to subside, and then his eyes fell on me, steely grey-green eyes that pierced me uncomfortably even from across the clearing, with the whole pack between us. Behind me, I felt someone stiffen, and knew without looking that it was Spencer. Dominic, next to me, took my fingers slyly in his as I met Frank’s stare across thirty feet of space.
“This month, we have welcomed someone new into our pack. She is not a wolf, like us, but she has proven herself trustworthy. She has saved one of our own, stood up for us against the human men who are now hunting us without knowing what it is they hunt!”
There were roars of outrage, and I gripped Dominic’s fingers. When the roars died down, Frank met my gaze again, and I thought that I saw softness in his expression. A cold breath of air touched the back of my neck, raising the hairs there. Another hand slipped carefully into my free one, and I almost jerked in surprise. I cut my eyes to Spencer, but he was looking straight ahead as his fingers curled around mine. With my pulse pounding in my ears, I barely heard Frank continuing to address the crowd, his eyes still on me.
“Tilly has proven herself to be kind and understanding. She has kept our secret without disgust or fear of what we are! And for that we are thankful! Tilly,” he paused, his voice softening.
He dipped his head once respectfully in my direction. All eyes turned to me, some wide and admiring, some narrowed but approving, all glowing reflectively in the moonlight.
“We welcome you to our pack,” Frank finished.
For a moment, I saw him as a powerful leader—as an Alpha. My face blank, I nodded back, returning his respect. I didn’t hold it against him that he’d wanted me away from the pack before he’d even met me. I understood why he’d thought I was a threat, and I thought I would have probably acted the same in his position. What mattered was that he’d let me stay and given me the chance to prove I wasn’t a danger to his pack. What mattered was that I had friends, people I could trust—Sarah, Desmond, little Annie, motherly Jane, Dominic, and Spencer.
The alpha raised his voice again, lifting his palms toward the sky as if he was presenting himself as an offering. “My friends, tonight we forget our troubles and shed our human skins! Tonight, we offer ourselves to the moon, and we run as our true selves! Tonight—”
He paused, lowering his eyes to sweep over his pack. As if it were a signal, they all sank to the ground, kneeling, and bowed their heads, exposing the vulnerable backs of their necks to their alpha. It was strange and a little creepy, the way they moved seemingly as one. Even Spencer had let go of my hand and dropped to the ground, his inky hair falling forward over his face. I was the only one left standing, bright and obvious in my white dress.
With a sigh that I saw more than heard, Frank turned his face up to the sky. “Tonight, we are wolves!” he roared, his voice booming out over the treetops.
In an eerie, simultaneous movement, every one of the pack tipped their chins up to look at the full moon, glowing like a beautiful, luminous goddess in the ebony sky. As one, they all let out howls that rose and rose, piercing the nightly quiet of the woods, sending shivers racing up my spine, and goose bumps spilling over my skin. A deep, primal part of me, the part of the human brain that hasn’t changed since the dawn of man, when wild things stalked the shadows beyond the mouth of the caves they lived in, screamed for me to run. I forced myself to stand where I was, listening to the beautiful and terrifying song of the wolves.
Then the howls died and were replaced by the sounds of crunching bones and snapping tendons as the pack members convulsed, twitching as they Changed. I covered my ears, unable to listen. It was like when Spencer had Changed in front of me, but multiplied by a dozen. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see the ugly contortions of their bodies as their skeletons shifted and grew, and fur swallowed flesh.
Through the fingers pressed over my ears, I could still hear the noises, whimpers and growls joining the horror movie soundtrack. I gritted my teeth, my stomach clenched with nausea, and I wished fervently that I’d stayed in my cabin, that I hadn’t let Dominic coerce me into promising to be there, and that I….The sounds stopped.
Cautiously, I opened my eyes, peeling my hands away from my ears. There was silence for a moment, as grey dots dancing in front of my vision from squeezing my eyes shut so tightly. Then more howls split the stillness, and I saw a sea of fur glistening before me. The clearing was brimming with wolves, their sleek fur shining in every shade under the moonlight, from a grey so pale it was almost white, to russet brown and speckled auburn, to the darkest midnight black that only Spencer possessed. Long teeth flashed, animal eyes glowed, and sounds of snuffling and chuffing filled the air along with the pungent scent of something like dog, but far wilder.
I jumped as something brushed my ankle, and looked down to see a tail thumping against my legs. The wolf at my side was huge, the tips of its perked ears reaching almost to my shoulder. Its fur was a warm, woodsy auburn colour, and its lips were peeled back to show wicked fangs, but the expression wasn’t threatening. Somehow, I knew it was a grin, and I smiled at the wolf that was Dominic. He yipped, playfully nudging my arm with his muzzle. Scorching breath puffed against my skin from his wide, rubbery black nose.
I looked out at t
he mass of squirming, snapping, yelping wolves and tried to identify each of them. There was a slender, red-brown wolf, I thought to be Sarah, and next to her, was a small, greyish wolf that was probably Annie, biting playfully at her sister’s tail. The chocolate-brown wolf was Desmond. Up at the front, the massive black and grey brindled wolf was almost certainly Frank—judging by the way the other wolves bowed their heads submissively around him.
I couldn’t connect any of the other wolves to their human selves, except, of course, Spencer, who stood out even amongst over a dozen other lupine bodies. Not just because of his jet-black fur and astounding size, but because there was, as when he was in human form, just something about him—the way he held himself, the way he stood somehow apart from the pack, the way his eyes were still fixed on the moon while everyone else was barking and nudging each other. He was a still, eerie shadow at the edge of the pack.
Then the huge black-and-grey wolf, Frank, the Alpha, made a long sound like a howl descending into a snarl. The wolves moved, an ocean of sleek fur, shining eyes, and graceful muscles. I watched as they flowed around the trees, escaping the clearing, and disappeared into the darkness of the night.
** Spencer **
Spencer ran along with his pack, ducking and dodging branches, diving over bramble bushes, and hurtling over fallen logs. Panting, yipping, and howling with the rest of them, he stretched his muscles and pushed himself faster, faster. The wind tore through his fur, warm bodies colliding with him, all pushing and shoving, made frenetic by the adrenaline of the Change and the excitement of the full moon. Everything was both crystal clear to his enhanced wolf eyes, and a blur going by in his speed. The air smelled of leaves, fur, and moonlight.
It was an incredible rush—running with his pack mates through the trees under the full moon. It was the only time they ever really accepted him, when who he was and who his mother was didn’t matter squat. They were wolves, they were a pack, and they were together. The only thing better than this, Spencer thought, would be to run on his own under the full moon.
Of course, he’d Changed the other night, against Frank’s orders, to better track Tilly as she sleepwalked through the woods—but this was different. Changing under the full moon wasn’t as painful as it was every other night. It was real freedom.
The woods were alive with the sounds of panting and crunching leaves under large paws and enthusiastic yelps. The other woodland creatures scattered, hiding in burrows or up trees, as the pack flowed by, smooth and unstoppable as the stream. Moonlight poured through the branches, illuminating patches of dirt and flashes of fur, gleaming eyes and teeth, here and there. Everything was pumping muscles, pounding blood, and racing against the wind.
The pack broke into a clearing in the trees, running full tilt, knowing the route they had to travel…and suddenly slammed to a halt. Wolves crashed into one another, growls and snarls erupting, and teeth gnashing. Spencer dug his claws into the ground, sliding across the dirt and nearly joining the tangle of startled, angry wolves.
Nimbly, he scampered backward, away from the writhing mass of fur and claws, retreating to the edge of the clearing. Other wolves flowed past him, screeching to a halt or tumbling into the knot of abruptly stopped wolves. Confused and irritated, Spencer danced around the fray as wolves untangled themselves, looking for what had caused the sudden halt to their run. He was still circling, looking for a blockage or a threat, when he bumped, muzzle first, into an invisible barrier around the front of the group.
He snorted in surprise and backed up, shaking his head. He stepped forward again, and again met an invisible resistance as hard as a brick wall. Bristling, he tried to see what was obstructing his path, but there was nothing there but the air. Cautiously, he stretched out his muzzle and pushed at the barrier with his nose. It didn’t budge, but once he was looking at it—or rather at where it was, since he couldn’t actually see it—he noticed a faint blue shimmer in the air just where his black nose touched the barrier.
His hackles raised and a faint whine of incomprehension rose in his throat. He didn’t understand what was going on. Looking around at his pack mates, some testing the invisible wall the same way and some watching with uncertain eyes, clearly none of them did either. Even the alpha, barking at them in a warning to step back and organise themselves, seemed puzzled.
Spencer slid back to the edge of the clearing, blending easily into the shadows of the trees, and pawed at the dirt uneasily. Something didn’t feel right—no, something felt very wrong. He raised his muzzle, sniffing the air, and caught the scent of sweat, blood, and corruption. Humans. Spencer tensed.
The alpha seemed to catch the scent at the same time. He barked furiously, his hackles rising, and turned to face the direction the scent was coming from, his head swinging from side-to-side as he sniffed the air. The problem was the scent was coming from everywhere. All around them.
They knew they were surrounded, even before the hunters stepped out of the trees, ringing them and trapping them in the circle of the clearing. There were at least a dozen men, and the light glinting off dark metal meant they were all carrying guns. Enough of Spencer’s human mind remained active in his wolf body to recognise the ambush.
The wolves pressed together, turning their backs to each other and baring their fangs at the hunters facing them. The men all raised their guns to their shoulders, aiming down the barrels to the trapped wolves. It would be like shooting fish in a barrel at that range.
Spencer crouched low to the ground, snarling ferociously, his muscles coiled to leap for the throat of the nearest man. He looked up past the barrel of the gun aimed at him and into the man’s face. The hunter was smiling beneath an orange cap, and Spencer recognised his scent. It was the man who’d shot him. Spencer jerked forward, his teeth snapping, wanting to rip the man’s body to shreds. He smacked into another invisible wall, and whined at the impact. Furious, he lunged again and again, slamming into the barrier he couldn’t see. The man behind it laughed, showing tobacco stained teeth.
“Hello again, wolf. Remember me do you?” he chortled.
Spencer stopped trying to break down the invisible wall, his sides heaving from the effort, and his shoulder aching from the repeated impact. His lips pulled back from his teeth and he growled silently at the man.
Still grinning under his orange cap, the hunter adjusted his gun on his shoulder, his finger on the trigger. “Goodbye, wolf,” he sneered, and then he pulled the trigger.
Chapter Fifteen
** Tilly **
I heard the gunshot ring out over the trees, and I was running before I knew what I was doing. The bad feeling that had been playing up and down my spine all day had crystallised in my bones, settling an icy knot in my stomach. All I could think about was Spencer, lying on the ground in wolf form, blood pouring from the gunshot in his side as the hunter in the orange cap vanished into the trees like a coward. My legs shook and I stumbled, got up and kept running. I gasped as I ran, telling myself that Spencer was okay, that Dominic, Desmond, and Annie were all okay. They had to be. If they weren’t? Well, I’d find a way to make the hunters and witches, pay for every ounce of blood.
My blood was rushing in my ears, and I didn’t know where the gunshot had come from, but my feet led me in what I hoped was the right direction. The trees whispered to me to hurry, their leaves bending to point the way, sucking in their roots so I wouldn’t trip over them. I was running so fast that everything around me was just a blur of shadows, but I still couldn’t get there fast enough. I was sure it would be only seconds before another shot fired and another wolf was hurt or maybe killed, because I was too stupidly, clumsily, humanly slow.
I burst into the clearing in time to see a startled looking man in an orange cap. The man who’d shot Spencer, I recognised him. He held a smoking gun, pointed directly…upward, as if someone had jerked his barrel up at the last second. But there was nobody near enough to him to have done it.
“Not that one,” a cool voice instructed
the hunter. I felt a shiver slither like slime down my spine, and turned my head, taking in the bristling, snarling pack of wolves encircled by men pointing guns at them. There, directly across the clearing from me, was the woman I’d known was there the moment I’d seen the guns. Olivia. Looking as coldly beautiful and pale as ever, she stood between two heavily armed hunters, her eyes glinting at me. She’d been expecting me as much as I’d expected her.
It took me only a second to piece together what was going on, and fear and dread strangled me. The hunters had been lying in wait for the wolves, and Olivia had been lying in wait for me. There we all were, unable to escape, and all I could do was stare at the woman who was going to kill my wolves.
“Matilda, how nice to see you again. I’d been hoping you would arrive in time for our little…party.”
Olivia giggled, an infuriatingly girlish sound that attracted swift glances from the men around her. Even in a black trench coat and leather boots, she was stunning. It made me want to rip her face off.
Something brushed my leg, and I flinched, looking down. Glinting gold eyes looked up at me from a pitch-black wolf face, and I felt a wave of relief sweep through me. I hadn’t realised how worried I’d been that he’d been shot, until Spencer was right next to me, clearly unharmed. He nudged against my legs, his eyes telegraphing that he recognised Olivia and her threat to me. I curled my fingers into his fur as his hackles rose, prickling. His muscles were tense under my knuckles, and he bared his teeth silently, but I held him back.