“As wolf hunted shifter, and man killed wolf, Alpha Oberon Shoals, who brought the marriage of man and wolf, was blamed for the chaos and put to death by mankind. Before he died, he foretold of the great leader who would succeed in unifying the worlds where he had failed. The worlds of wolf and man and shapeshifter, of supernatural and natural, will be united under a leader born with a mark of wisdom. Each month, we come together to honor his sacrifice for us. We come together to take our true form, although we walk as man.”
Before I can take another step, a raucous cheer goes up from the circle around the fire, bringing conclusion to the somber tale. They seem to have missed the serious tone in the leader’s voice. Everyone jumps up, and my heart slams in my chest, and I have to grip a tree trunk to keep from sprinting as fast as I can, though I don’t yet understand why. Hair stands up all over my body.
In the midst of the excited chatter, I see my sister peeling off her raincoat, tossing it on the ground, and whipping her shirt off over her head. My throat closes and I squeeze my eyes shut, willing myself not to puke.
Please do not let her be the sacrificial virgin.
If she’s about to die, she looks freakishly happy about it. My sister is not the only one shedding clothes. They are all in some state of undress, with clothes haphazardly flung in every direction. I swallow the sour bile in my throat. If this is some kind of sex cult, I’m really going to puke. There’s no way I’m going to be able to hold it down if I see some old guy doing one of my sisters.
They all quiet, falling into a line ringing the fire, their backs to the flames and their excited faces towards the woods. That’s when I see Harmon, his coppery skin shining in the firelight, a shadow on his shoulder where a tattoo darkens his skin. I swallow hard, my eyes traveling over his broad shoulders, his sculpted chest, his muscular abdomen… Suddenly, I’m not cold anymore. I’m hotter than the logs in the fire pit.
Harmon isn’t just looking into the forest. He’s looking at me.
No, I’m imagining things. He can’t see me.
The leader chants something, and they all answer in a chorus. Harmon pitches forward, falling to all fours on the ground. His back arches up and his head jerks downwards, as if he’s about to puke. The others are falling, too. They all have the tattoo on their shoulder, a symbol of some sort. Even my stuffy old mother.
My sister is on her knees, shuddering, her hair hanging over her face like something out of a horror movie. Her white skin moves in a rolling wave, as if something is crawling beneath the surface.
I clamp a hand over my mouth so I won’t scream.
Elidi screams for me.
I turn and run, trying to force the last images out of my mind—Harmon’s body writhing as he seemed to be dry heaving, his shoulder lurching out in one direction and his neck in the other, being ripped apart by an invisible giant. A baby wailing, abandoned on the grass. Zora’s body twitching as if in seizure. My mother, her head snapping back and forth like a rabid dog biting at invisible flies.
I stumble over a branch and go sprawling, scramble to my feet and sprint forward as a kid’s ear-piercing shriek splits the air. A branch whips across my face, stinging some sense back into me. Enough sense to hear that the shriek has morphed into something else, something…animal.
I bounce off a tree trunk, leap over a fallen log, and lose my footing. The wet ground under my feet gives way in a rush, and suddenly I’m sliding down a hillside, leaves and rocks and mud sliding with me. Feet-first, I splash to a stop in a stream, then pitch forward across it and claw my way up the opposite slope. An absurd thought ricochets through my brain, something about Emmy and my fingernails.
Just as I think I’ve left the screaming, writhing, naked freaks behind, a howl rings through the night, close enough to send pain spiraling into my eardrums. It is not a sound that a human is capable of making.
I stifle a scream and dive for a tree, every instinct in me urging me to get up, off the ground. A root whips around my foot, yanking me down, and I pitch forward. Before I hit the ground, something slams into my back. I land hard, the air knocked from my lungs. I scrabble at the muddy leaves, kicking and clawing, terror ripping all rational thought from my brain. The thing, the animal, flips me onto my back, a furious growl escaping its muzzle. In the dark, all I can see is a blur of movement, a flash of white, the slash of fangs striking towards my throat.
The shriek sounds far away, and it takes me a moment to realize I still have throat enough to scream. The weight, the heat and the damp breath are gone. Two wolves are rolling on the ground, snarling and ripping at each other beside me. I roll to my feet and run, blindly, a terror beyond reason stripping me to nothing. I’m not the pathetic girl cowering in her mother’s attic, the one with less to live for than the mother has already lost. I’m not the girl who wanted to be a model, or the one who pretends to hate hammering nails so her mother will let her continue. I’m just instinct, an animal like the ones growling and roaring and biting back there where I left them.
I keep running until I see the fire, and I stop short, my lung burning, my legs a trembling jelly mess, and I puke into the fresh, rain-soaked leaves. I’ve come in a circle. I stumble forwards until I reach the fire. No one remains. No blood, no crying babies, no dead bodies. Nothing but discarded clothes, as if they have been raptured. My teeth chattering, my bones cold and flat, I stand frozen in spite of the waves of heat rippling off the coals.
I don’t know how long I stand there. But when a howl sounds on the path that leads to the road, I know that chance is gone. The only way out is through the endless, malevolent forest. I turn and run.
I don’t care where I’m going. Anywhere is better than here. If I keep going, eventually I’ll reach civilization. Eventually, I’ll reach a road that leads back to my life.
Ten minutes later, I’m completely lost in the dark forest. My wet, muddy clothes drag against my legs, slowing my progress and letting a chill seep through my skin and down to my very bones. Something brushes against my face and I swallow a scream. What was that?
I take another step, and a prickly branch scratches at my face. Some kind of cedar or fir tree, its needles digging into my skin, even when I pull back. The branch moves forward, caresses my cheek with its cold, prickly fingers. With a shudder, I step back, but it reaches for me, blocks my way. I’m inside the tree, blocked in by branches. My breath comes faster as I turn and grab the thorny branch, wrenching it away from my body. I dart forward, but the branch swipes at me and I fall. On hands and knees, I scramble forwards, away from the sharp, punishing needles seeking my soft, vulnerable skin.
A scratchy branch reaches down to caress my heel.
I’m your mother now.
My head snaps up, and I look around wildly, but the darkness swallows everything. I can make out the shapes of the trees around me, nothing more.
“Who’s there?” I ask.
The wind sighs through the needles of the tree, making a mournful, lonesome sound that resonates with something deep in my chest.
No voice answers my question.
On trembling legs, I stand. Prickly needles stick to my skin, my palms, their tiny thorns digging in and clinging to me. I brush off my hands, then repeat my question, my voice less scared now, stronger.
No answer.
Another gust of wind shakes the tree, and a twig scrapes along my neck like a finger. I startle and bite back a scream.
A picture flashes into my mind. A woman with a gaunt, ghostly pale face and raven black hair leans over me, cooing indecipherable words. Her nearly colorless, chapped lips tremble as she offers me a hopeful smile and strokes my hair. Beside me, the warmth and comfort of home. My father? Or someone else, maybe Elidi? I turn my head, seeking the face beside mine as the image fades. But all I can see is the trees and darkness around me right now, not the memory or hallucination that came over me.
I fight for the memory, trying to grasp it and pull it close again, but it’s gone, melted away into the fore
st. Who is that woman? Where is she? And why am I seeing her now? Is she here, in this grasping forest filled with things that are more alive than trees, things that look like trees but reach and grope for passersby? Is she trapped here, and if she is, can I join her? It can’t be worse than living in the prison of my mother’s attic.
Whoever she was, she’s gone now. She looked sick, so if it’s a memory, she’s probably dead now. And if not…could I find her? I’m sure I’ve never seen her in my blackout hallucinations before, and yet… Did I imagine the trace of familiarity? Does she resemble someone I know—Zora, maybe, who can’t be my biological sister, or my father? Could she be an aunt or grandmother he never mentioned, someone I could live with instead of my freak-show mother? Because now I know the truth. She’s not only a monster on the inside. She’s a monster on the outside, too.
6
When I finally climb to my feet, it takes about three steps for me to realize I’m lost. I ran blindly from the wolves—I can’t say the other word, it’s too ridiculous—and now I’m somewhere deep in this forest that holds strange memories and hungry trees. A pain throbs in my chest. I need my father now, more than ever. He would have some secret knowledge of the trees, some clue about the moss or bark growing on one side of the tree to point our way home.
But my father is not here. My mother is. I can feel her, somehow, as I turn, the hair standing up along my arms. And there, glowing from the woods, is a pair of yellow eyes. I hold in a scream and step backwards, as if there is some protection here for me. A howl sounds nearby, sending shivers from my toes up my spine, making my skin crawl and my scalp tingle. Another pair of eyes appears, and another. I turn to run, but they are all around me, heads lowered, teeth bared, glowing eyes fixed on me as they advance, closing the circle.
“Please,” I whisper, holding out a hand as if to protect myself. A pale, furless, human hand against a pack of flesh-eating superhuman werewolves.
This is it. This is how it ends, entombed in a magical forest, with no witnesses. I want to scream, but I can’t.
One of the wolves lunges for me.
I throw up my hands, the only meager defense I have. But the blow never comes. When I open my eyes, a black and white wolf has leapt in front of me. Instead of ripping my throat out, it stands facing the pack, growling. Its hackles stand up as it paces in front of me, a low growl rumbling in its throat. A golden wolf lashes out, but the black and white one smashes it to the ground with one paw. The golden wolf leaps to its feet, swiping at the one protecting me.
It’s my sister. It has to be. Sweet Elidi has finally had enough of our horrible mother. She’s helping me escape.
While she’s occupied, I have to find a way out. I look around, searching for a weapon. All I can find is a broken branch, about the thickness of my arm. I pick it up and test it over my knee. It splits in two, leaving me a solid piece about as big as my forearm. In the scary movies I watched with Emmy, wooden stakes killed vampires, not werewolves. But it’s worth a shot.
I take a deep, shaky breath and turn my back on all those angry wolves. Trusting Elidi to have my back, literally, and keep them from pouncing while I’m vulnerable takes everything I’ve got. Sure, she’s my sister, but she’s never come to my aid before. Terror courses through me, but I won’t back down. Trying to look menacing, I pull myself up to my full height and take a step towards the three wolves in front of me.
I swear, I hear a cackle as the wind whips through the juniper tree behind the three wolves. One of them drops its tail and whines, then races around me to join the rest of the pack, which my guardian wolf is still holding off. It’s weird to think of a wolf as my sister, but it’s the only explanation.
I grip the branch as tightly as I can and thrust the end at a small black wolf. It leaps aside and snaps its jaws shut on the branch, ripping it from my hands in one pull. I’m defenseless, facing off with an angry wolf. Before it can rip my head off, a roar of fury sounds behind me. Whipping around, I see a large grey wolf slam my protector to the ground. It grabs the back of the white and black head between its powerful jaws. I hear snapping and grinding as it chews the wolf’s skull.
This time, I scream. I grab the half of the branch that I discarded and slam it down on the grey wolf’s skull. The golden wolf leaps forwards and grabs my leg between its powerful jaws, dragging my feet from under me. I grope at the ground for purchase, then turn and smash the branch down on her head. Beside me, the grey wolf has rolled my protector over and is standing on its neck, staring into its eyes with fiery fierceness, as if willing it to obey. I guess it works, because the black and white wolf lowers its head and whines. The grey wolf rakes its claws down my protector’s chest, ripping four gashes in its thick coat. Blood streaks the white fur, but the wolf only growls in response.
The grey wolf snarls and snaps at its throat. I turn my face away, squeezing my eyes closed. I can’t bear to see my sister’s throat torn out, to watch her sacrifice herself for me. The golden wolf is on me now, anyway, dragging me further from the fight. Other wolves crowd around, biting at my jeans, dragging me down the hill.
At last, they drop me at the bottom of the mountain, scraped and battered and bruised. I stagger to my feet, only to face half a dozen ferocious, angry sets of eyes. When I try to run, they head me off. After a few minutes, it’s clear. They’re herding me, cutting me off in three directions every time I try to turn. At last, we’re back at the clearing. Everything in my body hurts. All I want is numbness, to crawl back in bed, even one in my attic prison, and sleep.
When I stumble towards the road out, the golden wolf lets out a round of barking snarls and leaps up, snapping at my throat. With a scream, I shove it off, then stumble backwards. Sobs threaten to tear out of my chest. I’m cold and muddy and bloody and scraped. I have no choice. They want me to go back to Mother’s, even now, when I know their secret. Maybe now more than ever. They can’t risk an outsider knowing their secret. With a final longing glance beyond the clearing, I turn and trudge back towards Mother’s house. Tonight, at least, I am defeated. I have no weapons, nowhere to run. There are six of them, armed with teeth and claws and strength.
At Mother’s, I climb into the shower without heating the water first and wash my bruised body. The pain has set in, throbbing through every muscle and joint. My hands and back are scraped and bloody, my body covered in bruises, my nails caked with dirt, my cheek raw. When I’m clean, I climb the stairs, go into my room, close the door, and replace the knob. Then I lie in bed, waiting for Mother—or whatever she is—to come for me.
7
I wait all night. I don’t sleep, but I’m not exactly awake either. Every time a wolf howls, I start shaking uncontrollably, and I don’t stop even when I pull the blankets over myself and pile on more, until I’m sweating. I wait, and the howls grow fainter, and then they stop. I stare at the moon out the skylight, and then out the window, and then it disappears beyond the trees. Still, no one comes for me.
I reach for my necklace, but find my neck bare. My heart leaps into my throat and tears sting my eyes. I think about going out there again, about stepping onto that path and running until I reach the road with the log fallen across it, where the taxi stopped. But there’s no taxi waiting for me there. Even if I went all the way out that road, even if I found the paved road to civilization, what would I say? And what makes me think they would let me get that far?
*
Finally, sometime between terror and exhaustion, as I’m lying in wait, I hear voices on the path outside. Snapping, sharp voices. I can’t breathe. I’m going to be sick again.
“I don’t believe you,” Mother says.
“I’ve never lied to you,” Elidi says back. “Why would I lie about this?”
“I’m not blind. I know what I saw. What I smelled.”
They’re inside the house then, and I can’t hear them through the open window. I can only hear the snap of their voices, brittle and angry. And the rattle of my doorknob. My heart is beating s
o hard I don’t know how it hasn’t exploded inside me.
“See? How would she even get out?” Elidi asks outside my door.
I try to remember if I replaced everything exactly the way it was. The suitcases, the clothes inside them. Surely my mother hasn’t checked them and memorized the contents. But there are my clothes, the ones I was wearing when I ran, torn and muddied beyond repair. If she finds them, she’ll kill me. Maybe she will anyway. I try to slow my heartbeat, but it’s impossible. I close my eyes and make myself appear placid, as if I could sleep after tonight.
The key rattles in the lock, and the door flies open. I flinch. I can’t pretend to sleep now. She’ll have seen it. I push myself up on one elbow, blink stupidly at her. “Hey,” I mutter, my voice full of the exhaustion I feel.
“I know it was you,” Mother says, each word snapping with hatred. I remember those jaws gnashing at my throat, and I swallow hard.
“What was me?” I ask, sinking back onto my pillow. “What’s going on?”
“Oh, you know what’s going on,” she thunders, stepping closer. If she rips the blankets off, she’ll see the scratches on me, the bruises, the dirt.
“Mom, it was me,” Elidi insists behind her. “If you tell her…”
Mother hesitates, glaring down at me like she’d like to rip my throat out now. It must have been her, that wolf, the one who tried to kill me. No one else hates me that much, even if I did intrude, spy, and find out their…secret.
I shudder under the weight of her loathing.
“I don’t know what you think you’re doing,” Mother says, her voice quiet and menacing. “But you are not to leave this room again. I told you not to try to be one of us. I warned you, Stella. If something happens to you now, I can’t be the one to blame.”
She turns and stalks out. I try to tell Elidi with my eyes, but there’s too much to tell. That I saw her, all of her, the human and the animal. That I know what she is, what they all are. That I’m thankful she’s protecting me now, even if I don’t know the reason.
Unlikely Magic: A Cinderella Retelling (Girl Among Wolves Book 1) Page 7