by Eden Beck
“Kaleb, what the hell?” Marlowe calls out, shattering the moment.
But Kaleb doesn’t draw back right away. Before he pulls back, he wraps his tongue around mine one more time in such a tantalizing way that my thighs automatically squeeze together. He does pull his mouth from mine, but he does it so slowly it’s as if it kills him to do it.
I sit here, in his lap, and look at him transfixed.
He just smiles at me and kisses the top of my nose before he looks up at Marlowe and apologizes to his brothers.
“Sorry,” Kaleb says. “You know as well as I do that I couldn’t help it.”
When Kaleb turns his look back to me, he nods his head in the direction behind me. “Look,” he says. “Don’t be afraid.”
This time, I do as I’m told. When I do turn, I see Marlowe still sitting on the tree trunk and Rory, well wolf-version of Rory, standing in the middle of the clearing with his blackish-silver fur blowing in the soft breeze.
I tense up a bit as the wolf approaches.
Kaleb rubs his hand against my back and reassures me that there’s nothing to be afraid of, so I swing my body around so that I can face the wolf head on.
If I’m going to do this, then I’m going to do it right.
It stops when it gets directly in front of me and immediately lays its head down in my lap. It looks up at me with the biggest and darkest eyes I have ever seen, wide and full of emotion. Human emotion.
Unable to resist the allure of the soft, dark fur, I reach my hand down and stroke the top of its head, letting my hand run down the course of its long nose. The wolf’s fur is so soft, and it sits perfectly still as if we are both trying to figure each other out. I can feel Kaleb’s chest bouncing behind me as he chuckles.
“So this is—” I start to say as I turn around to ask Kaleb if my theory is correct.
“Yeah,” he smiles. “It’s Rory.”
I turn forward again as the wolf lifts its head and stares at me, and I reach my hand out to scratch behind its ears as it licks the top of my forearm.
“Can he understand me? When he … when you …”
Rory makes a sound deep in his throat. I think it’s meant to answer my question, but the sound still rattles me.
As if sensing this, Rory suddenly steps back, wolf-eyes searching for a moment until, in one swift movement, the wolf seems to stand on its hind legs before reversing its transformation back into a human.
The entire process lasts less than a couple seconds but looks pretty painful.
Certainly not as graceful as the other wolf. The girl-wolf made it look effortless.
But then again, I wasn’t looking for it last time. There’s a good chance my brain just saw what it wanted to see. In the moment, that was already enough to send me into a tailspin.
Now, instead of a wolf with dark and silver fur, Rory stands before me … his clothes shredded in a heap around his feet.
I guess that isn’t the only thing the other girl was more adept at.
I can’t breathe; and I’m not sure if it’s because I just found out that Rory is some kind of wolf person, or because of the way he looks as he stands completely naked in front of me.
Kaleb must have noticed my ceasing breath because he smacks me on the back to snap me out of it.
“You’re—”
“Werewolves,” Rory finishes my sentence for me.
“But,” I try to wrap my mind around this, “werewolves don’t exist.”
Rory laughs as he walks toward me. “Oh, we definitely exist.”
He kneels down in front of me, turning me into a hot mess of wanton desire mixed with the fear that I’m finally losing my mind.
“Okay you two,” Marlowe says as he gets up and walks toward me as well, “you’ve got her all flustered and confused. This isn’t supposed to be a cock-fest. It’s supposed to be an explanation.”
Marlowe pushes past Rory and grabs my hand as he pulls me up from Kaleb’s lap.
“Oh please,” Kaleb says. “Don’t pretend that you’re immune to the effect she has on us. You want her every bit as badly as we do.”
“Okay, what’s going on?” I ask. “Every time I think you’re starting to make sense, you all say something super weird again.”
“Put pants on,” Marlowe says to Rory before turning back to me. “I think you’re going to want to hear us out on this one, Sabrina.”
Once everyone is sitting back down on their respective tree trunks, fully clothed thanks to a spare pair of pants that Marlowe had the foresight to bring, the real discussion begins.
“So, you’re werewolves,” I say. “All of three of you?” My glance starts with Rory and then shifts between Kaleb and Marlowe too.
“Yes,” Rory answers. “All of us.”
“Okay,” I say, sucking my breath in. “Werewolves are real.” I try to embrace this new fact as quickly as I can. “You guys are werewolves, and that girl by the river is a werewolf. How many of there are you?”
“A lot.”
I nod my head because I don’t really know what else to say.
“She’s taking this a lot better than I thought she would,” Kaleb says to Rory with a grin on his face.
I thought I would have so many questions. I should have so, so many questions. I should want to know if there are other kinds of animal shifters. I should want to know if there are other … creatures … too. Things like vampires, witches. The paranormal. Magic.
I should want to know how it works. Every detail.
But instead, right now, I just want to know one thing.
“What did you mean when you said I have an effect on you?” I as. The grin slips from Kaleb’s face and is replaced by a much more serious expression. He shifts uncomfortably on his tree trunk and looks at his brothers.
“Go ahead,” Rory says to him. “You might as well tell her now. The time for keeping this a secret is so far gone, I don’t even know why we’d bother at this point.”
“Yeah, how long did that last … a couple weeks?” Kaleb says.
He gets up and walks over to me again. He kneels down in front of where I’m sitting and leans forward to kiss me a second time. The warmth of his lips envelops me and again, I find myself unable to think of anything else. When he pulls away, he tilts his head in the direction of his brothers.
“Look,” he says.
“What—”
“Just … look,” Kaleb repeats.
When I turn back to Marlowe and Rory, I see what he means right away.
It’s their eyes. Here, in the dim light of the forest, it’s unmistakable.
I remember that reflective, saturated yellow from my dream of Rory. Well, at least I thought it was a dream, I thought it had to be a dream, when he pulled me from the river.
But now I can see it as clearly as anything. Both boys are looking at me with a pair of bestial yellow eyes that seem to glow as if backlit by fire. As the moments tick on from my kiss with Kaleb, that fire inside starts to dim.
I look back at Kaleb for an explanation, but it’s Rory who speaks.
“We can’t resist you, Sabrina, because we’re not made to resist you.”
24
Sabrina
“Kaleb isn’t the only one who wants you, Sabrina. We’re pack animals. We all do.”
I’ve found myself at a loss for words several times over the course of the past few weeks, but this one definitely takes the cake. Three guys, werewolves, all saying that they are attracted to me … me.
“I know this is a lot to take in,” Marlowe says, and I can’t keep myself from scoffing at the notion that “a lot” doesn’t even begin to describe it.
Since I can’t think of anything else to say, I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.
“What color is your fur?” I ask Marlowe, knowing it’s a stupid reaction to what these three just told me.
Marlowe laughs. “It’s the same color as my hair,” he says as he pulls a lock in front of his shoulder to examine it for
a moment.
“So, if I were a werewolf,” I start, “hypothetically speaking, of course. We’d have the same color fur since we have the same color hair, you and I?”
“Your hair is a lot more blonde than mine,” he says with a laugh again, “but you’ve got an idea how it works.”
“And your eyes, they would still be green as a wolf?”
“Yes,” Marlowe answers. “Although the color of our eyes sometimes changes.”
“Like when you’re feeling jealous or, uh …” I’m not quite sure how to finish asking my question.
“Sexually-driven?” he finishes for me, the wolf inside him showing through in his grin.
“Yeah,” I say as I feel my face start to flush in the cold air. “I guess that’s what I meant.”
I get up and walk over to Marlowe. He flinches at my touch but doesn’t stop me from tugging up the corner of his shirt to see the scar that rests on his collarbone.
“Did you get this scar as a wolf or as a human?” I ask.
Now’s the time to ask, if any.
“A wolf,” he answers, but I can tell he doesn’t want to launch into the backstory about it right now. I wonder what kinds of scars a wolf can get that they don’t want to talk about later. I know I have scars, but none of them can be seen.
“Why do you all like me?” I ask, turning around to try and look at each of them. “Does that happen often with you guys, all three of you liking the same girl? And shouldn’t you be attracted to women like that wolf-girl from the other day?”
You know, girls that are more your type. I don’t say it, but it’s no secret that I’m thinking it.
“It’s not something we can control, Sabrina,” Kaleb answers, carefully. “We can’t get you out of our heads. You’re in our every thought, even our dreams.”
“It’s true,” Rory adds. “We can’t stay away from you. We’ve all tried. Even I can’t keep myself from you.”
“But when we first met, you seemed like you hated me,” I say.
“I kind of did,” Rory admits. “I didn’t want you here. I didn’t want you on the grounds. I hated not being able to control myself around you and even when I tried to forget about you, I was tormented by you.”
My mind feels like it’s been running nonstop on overdrive. There are so many things I want to ask, so many things that I need to know. I’m in disbelief, and in awe, and more than a little flustered by the feeling of wanting to kiss each and every one of them and to lie in their arms and watch the seasons change in the trees all around us.
But then I remember something else. I remember their warnings of danger, and how they always seem to be following me when something happens. I remember what happened the day I went to the river.
“Who’s the wolf-girl?” I ask, before I lose the courage. “Is she a friend of yours?”
I can feel the shift of mounting tension in the air.
“No,” Rory answers, “she’s not.”
That tension hangs between us all for a moment, only to be broken by the jarring sound of a cell phone ringing.
First, it’s Rory.
He tries to shut it off and open his mouth, prepared to answer my question about the girl—but then Marlowe’s cell phone is the next to ring. By the time it gets to Kaleb, he hesitates a moment before finally taking the call.
I can hear the hushed tones of someone else on the other side of the line. I can’t make out the sound of his voice, but from the way Kaleb reacts, I think I know who it is.
“She’s here with us. No, no not like that—”
Whoever’s on the other side of the line cuts him off. Kaleb nods his head several times, then ends the call.
“Romulus?” I guess.
He nods. “Apparently the school called when you didn’t show up today.”
“Shit.”
I jump to my feet.
“I should call my mom. She’s probably freaking out.”
“Or …” Marlowe says, his eyes shifting over to Kaleb. “Hold on a minute. Why don’t we just head back to school? Think you can work your charms on the front office?”
Kaleb grins so wide, nearly all his teeth show.
That answers Marlowe’s question.
“Perfect. We’ll get them to call your mom back and tell her it was a mistake. But we’ve got to get to class now.”
Even though the tension was broken by Romulus’ phone call, that doesn’t mean I’m ready to just give up on my questions. I feel anxiety rising in my throat, threatening to drown me from the inside.
“But … but I still need …”
Marlowe reaches out a hand to rest gently on my arm.
“We’ll tell you everything. I promise,” he says, glancing over at both his brothers, “this weekend.”
Rory stiffens. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”
It’s my turn to swivel my gaze between the three of them. “What’s not such a good idea?”
“Nonsense,” Marlowe says. His hand squeezes my shoulder. “I can’t think of a better way to introduce you to the family. Give you a couple days to process things … give you some time to figure out what it is you really want to know.”
Kaleb sits back down beside me. “You still haven’t told her what you’re inviting her to.”
Still, no one tells me.
After a moment, Rory sighs, stands, and puts me out of my misery.
“It’s Romulus’ birthday party,” he says, “and Marlowe’s right … you might as well come.”
I feel suspended between two impossibilities. I want answers … but Marlowe isn’t wrong. I could use some time to process what they’ve already told me, what they’ve already shown me. As it is, I already feel like my head is ready to explode.
Maybe what I really need is some time to process my feelings with the promise of more answers to come.
“I don’t know,” I still say. I remember the last time I saw Romulus, dream or not, and I still can’t shake the distinct feeling that he hates me. And unlike Rory, I doubt that’s changed.
Kaleb comes over and sits down next to me. He’s sitting so closely that his thigh presses up against mine.
“Come on,” he urges, “you know you have a million more questions that you want us to answer, but if we stay out here much longer even I won’t be able to sweet-talk us out of trouble.” A strong feeling comes over me and I want to kiss his lips again. It makes it more difficult to focus, but I know what he says is right.
I can’t just go missing on what’s supposed to be my first day back at school. Not after what happened at the river.
I need some time to process everything I’ve just seen and heard, and I think they know that. Even if Romulus doesn’t like me, I can’t turn down an invitation like this.
Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.
These days, the line between the two isn’t always so easy to distinguish.
“Okay,” I say, nodding. “I’ll come.”
True to Kaleb’s word, he’s somehow able to sweet-talk the front office to give my mom another call and tell her my absence was all just a mistake. What he’s not able to do, however, is still the racing thoughts that leave me jittery in class all day.
Werewolves are real.
Rory, Marlowe, Kaleb … who knows how many others.
That alone is so much to wrap my head around, that I end up turning down their invite to drive me back home at the end of the day. I need the time to think on my own … and more importantly, think of how to come up with a good explanation for my mother.
Because of course I can’t tell her anything about the fact that the guys are some kind of mythological creature.
I’m not entirely certain I’ll ever be able to find a way to tell her that.
It’s all I can do to find a way to tell her I accepted the invite to the mansion this weekend, and even then, she nearly falls over at the sink.
“You … you what?”
A pan slips from her fingers and cla
tters noisily into the basin.
“It’s just a small birthday party,” I say as I see a wide grin form on her face. “It’s really not a big deal.”
Her mouth works silently for a moment, leaving me to flounder for my own.
“You … you could come if you want. If you’re not sure …”
As soon as the invite is out of my mouth, I could kick myself. Shit. Shit. This wasn’t supposed to happen. If she comes, this whole thing is going to turn into an elaborate charade. If she comes, I won’t be getting any of my promised answers.
But luckily for me, she quickly shakes her head.
“Oh no, no need for that. I’m just surprised, that’s all.” She finally takes a step away from the sink to face me, giving me a close once-over from top to bottom. “So that’s what you were doing this morning. Something to do with those three Gray boys?”
My reddened face gives me away.
“What do you …”
She waves her hand at me. “Please, I wasn’t born yesterday. I knew something was up when that lady from school called me back … I just wondered what it was. Until now.”
The corners of her mouth turn up a bit. “Already meeting the family?”
“Mom, stop,” I say, dragging out the word as I flop down onto the worn sofa and bury my face into a cushion.
“So,” she continues, her voice taking on that sing-song quality that makes me want to run and hide and never show my face again, “which one do you like?”
“Mom,” I say, finally popping my head up in exasperation. “They’re just friends from school.”
I knew that question was going to come around eventually, but I’ve decided I’m going to skirt around it for as long as I can. Maybe if I keep her guessing long enough, she’ll come to realize my dilemma—that I’d never be able to choose between the three of them.
After all, who in their right mind could?
“Like I was saying,” she continues anyway, “you don’t usually make friends. I think this is a good thing, honey. It’s a sign that you might finally want to settle down somewhere for more than a few months.”