by L. C. Davis
Seven missed calls and four text messages.
“Where r u??”
“Are you ok? Brendn said y werre seeing the nurse???”
“You better not be ingoring me cuz you're enjoying hot kinky sex after all that complening.”
“K have 2 go 2 bed, my advisor will kill me if I miss another meeting. Passing out. Too much tequila. I know ur safe bet text me as soon as you can and take my car,,, its in the lot.”
Poor Arthur. Guilt racked me as I typed out a response to the drunken texts. “I'm sooo sorry, crazy night. Seb is crazy, but the nurse and other wolf are cool. I'm fine. Tell you all about it tomorrow night. Good luck w/your meeting. I'm SO sorry for blaming you. xo”
I set the phone on the night stand to continue to charge and sighed. I looked at the disheveled stack of books. Victor would definitely know they were out of order. I picked up the sketchbook to turn its cover over. I knew for sure that it had been closed before it fell. I really only meant to close it, but a drawing on the page caught my attention.
It was me. I did a double take, sure that it was just vanity or a weird trick of the light, but it wasn't. Further inspection only confirmed that this was me. It was an idealized image, but it was definitely me.
The drawing had long hair, feminine features, my slightly-too-long nose and the exact shape of my cupid's bow. His head was turned to the side, revealing the right side of his neck in full. My heart dropped into the pit of my stomach when I saw the series of small, slit scars on his skin. They were the same as mine, right down to the last set by my earlobe.
My hands were shaking so hard as I turned the page. The next few were covered in landscapes of the view I had just taken in on the balcony. There was one of a wolf, howling at the full moon over the mountains. The very next page was a similar scene with a huge bipedal beast in place of the wolf. The moon was missing from the sky and its absence created a void that matched the one in my heart at that moment.
I kept flipping, struggling to find evidence I truly hoped wasn't there. It didn't take long to find it. There was another drawing of me sitting on what appeared to be some sort of throne. I was naked with the exception of a silk scarf draped tastefully over my shoulder and lap. My legs crossed as I leaned back casually in the throne. One arm was draped over the side, caressing the head of a massive black wolf. A smaller gray wolf sat off to the side of the other side of the throne, looking on with what seemed to be envy.
The inside of my forearm was covered in scars. I brought a shaking hand to my mouth to cover a choked sob. The most distressing part about the picture was that a glance at my arm revealed that each scar was shockingly accurate to a degree even I couldn't match.
A tear fell onto the paper, pooling on the blood red sash draped across my chest. It was one of a few sparse uses of color in the sketch. Another was the exact auburn shade of my hair.
I hastily wiped the tear off without thinking. It smeared the color across my heart and looked like a jagged wound.
I closed the sketchbook and did my best to rearrange the books on the nightstand the way I had found them. I climbed into bed and laid awake for hours. The only thing keeping me from running and taking Arthur's car back to campus was that I was even more afraid of the creature lurking so close in the woods.
Sleep eluded me, but exhaustion finally won out. That night I dreamed of wolves.
6
Two massive, snarling beasts circled me on either side. One was black, the other a light gleaming gray. They looked like opposing knights on a chessboard, and I was the pawn in a game I had never asked to play. Their glistening white fangs were bared as they made such awful sounds they seemed almost demonic.
Their eyes glowed golden as they inched closer to me, I stood frozen, incapable of moving. Whichever way I ran, it would be away from the one only to run straight into the jaws of the other. Whichever way I ran, I knew both sets of gnashing teeth would soon know the taste of my flesh. Standing still would only prolong my fate be a few seconds, or perhaps even a minute.
The gray wolf crouched and sprang into the air, followed by the black wolf a fraction of an instant later. My scream echoed through
the threes and scattered the jet black wolves into the sky of the blood red harvest moon.
I swear I could feel teeth caressing my arms as I rose straight up in bed. I only realized that I was the one screaming when I was halfway out of the bed. I collapsed on the floor, shaking too badly to keep going.
My breath came in ragged puffs as I bent over. It felt like my heart was going to explode if I didn't get more air. I'd had nightmares before, but never one that chased me into the day. I could still feel the wolves' teeth on my arms.
I held myself and tried to focus on taking deep, measured breaths. It was starting to work enough for humiliation to set in. The walls of the lodge were anything but thin, but my scream had been so earsplitting, someone had to have heard.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
It sounded like a giant was pounding on the door.
“Remus!” Sebastian's voice rang through the thick wooden door with no problem. “Open up!”
“I-I'm fine,” I called in a traitorously frail and trembling voice.
“Damn it,” he snarled. I heard another series of bangs, then the crack of splintering wood. “Move back!”
I didn't even have time to get to my feet when I realized what was going on before the door exploded into the room and fell flat on the floor in a cloud of sawdust.
The massive shoulders of the man on the other side of the fallen door were heaving, whether from exertion or anger, and his tightly clenched fists gave me very real concern as to whether he had kicked the door in or...
He stalked into the room and I was in his arms before I knew what happened. He looked around the room and made a snarling sound. “What happened?”
A moment later, a few others stepped into the room. I recognized one as the guard on the stairs from last night and the other as the infamous Brendan. There was another, somewhat smaller man beside them. He had wide eyes and looked younger than the rest. I didn't think I had seen him in the wolf lineup, but I wasn't sure of my perceptual skills anymore.
“Is he okay?” the young one asked.
“I'm fine,” I repeated. I was starting to feel like a broken record. At least I could breathe now, for the most part. That didn't mean my voice – or my hands, for that matter, had stopped trembling. “I just had a nightmare and thought something was in the room,” I admitted ashamedly.
Now I was the one who sounded crazy. The other wolves were looking at me the way I had probably looked at Sebastian the night before.
“Oh shit, his arm,” said Brendan, pointing.
My blood froze as I drew my arms to my chest protectively. Sebastian looked down at me, then turned to the others and snarled, “Quit gawking and go get Clara!” he ordered.
With the apt scrambling of a scolded pack of dogs, they fled the room. The smaller leaped over the door to catch up with them.
Sebastian turned back to me and placed me on the edge of the bed. He knelt down in front of me, but he was still only an inch lower than me at full standing height.
“I'm so humiliated,” I groaned, raking my hands through my hair. “P-please don't bring Clara. It really was just a nightmare. I'm so stupid.”
“Hey,” he chastised, reaching up to cup the side of my face in his warm, calloused palm. “You aren't stupid. Foster has night terrors, but I've never heard him scream like that. Must have been one hell of a dream.”.
I smiled weakly. “It was.” I couldn't help but lean into his hand. When I touched it, I felt something warm and sticky. I pulled my hand away and saw that I had blood on my fingertips.
I grabbed his hand to turn it over, revealing four split knuckles. The other one was the same. “You punched the door in,” I said, looking up at him in shock. I must not have hidden it well, because he laughed.
My awe turned into disgust when he started licking the b
lood off. “It's no big deal.”
“That's a three-inch wooden door,” I argued. “You just... destroyed it. I don't even think that should be possible.”
He grinned. “I work out.” He looked around at the chaos and scratched his head. “Victor is gonna be pissed, but he'll get over it.”
“I'm so sorry,” I murmured. “It's my fault. I'll pay for it.” Somehow. Hopefully there was a payment plan.
His nostril twitched in distaste. “Bullshit. I'll build build a new one, it'll take half a day at most. You sure you're okay?” he asked, tapping my forehead. “Maybe it's whatever's wrong in there. Does this happen a lot?”
I frowned, subtly brushing his hand away. “No. I mean nightmares, yes, but not quite that bad. I think the wolf just shook me up.”
I hadn't had a fear of them before, but now I was pretty sure I had developed a phobia.
“Wolf?” he asked with a look of panic. “What wolf?”
Maybe he was afraid of the real thing. Ironic. “The one in the woods last night. You didn't hear it?” I asked in disbelief.”
He glanced out towards the balcony and shrugged. “I'm a sound sleeper. Did you see it? It didn't hurt you, did it?”
I shook my head. “No, I just heard it.” I hated to admit that I was that pathetic, but it was the truth.
“Oh,” he muttered. “Good.”
I swallowed hard. “Th-there's no way a wolf could get up here, right?”
“Nah,” he said in such a way that made me unsure. “A warm shower will help you feel better.”
I touched my hair and realized it was damn. Great, more embarrassment.
He glanced at my arm and then pretended not to notice. I eyed him warily. “You haven't said anything about my scars, but I know you've noticed. Why?”
He shrugged. “I've seen them. Uh, during the competition.”
I sighed. “When you pulled my cuff off?”
“Yeah,” he said sheepishly.
I pursed my lips. “Oh. Um. Thanks for not saying anything, then.”
He shrugged.
My curiosity got the better of me. “Why didn't you say something?” He didn't seem like the type to have abundant sensitivity when it came to that sort of thing.
“Why would I?” he countered.
I was too surprised by the question to know how to answer. “I don't know. Most people judge me. I can understand, I guess.”
He frowned. “Remus, how do you think you got those scars?” he asked in a slow, deliberate voice.
I brushed off the strangeness of his phrasing and laughed nervously. “Well, pretty much how you'd think. I was depressed, and cutting made me feel better. For a little while, anyway.”
His upper lip twitched slightly. He took my arm and I flinched as he turned it over, his fingers brushing over my skin. He landed on a small set of scars and tapped the small, circular mark.
“What'd you use to do that?”
I hesitated. “A-a razor.”
“Pretty round and jagged for that,” he remarked. “Blades are clean.”
I put my hand over the marks to hide them. I was starting to feel lightheaded again. “I don't know, it was a long time ago.”
“You have a lot of them,” he pointed out. “Seems like you'd remember a mark you made that many times.”
I touched my forehead and stood carefully. My head throbbed. “I think I will take that shower now.”
His face was sullen but he let me go. “Careful,” he murmured, reaching for my hand to help me over the debris.
“Thanks,” I said, grateful for the assistance since my head was still rebelling.
“Don't mention it. Come on, I'll show you to the baths. No one should be in there,” he said, leading me to a wooden swing door. “I'll bring you that towel.”
“Thank you,” I smiled, heading inside.
I found myself into a rather large tiled room that looked like more of a spa than a bath. There was a door that led into a sauna on the far end, along with an open locker room and a completely open row of showers.
Hopefully he was right about no one else using the room.
The door swung open and, to my relief, it was just Sebastian. A towel and what looked like a robe were draped over his shoulder. He was holding a black T-shirt like the one I was wearing.
“Here's a clean shirt, too,” he said, handing me the pile.
“I really appreciate it,” I told him. “Uh, about the shirt you gave me last night. Was it the one you were wearing?”
He grinned. “Well, you were sleeping in Victor's bed. I had to give you something of mine, too.”
I couldn't help but laugh. “Is that some sort of dom thing?”
“Nah,” he replied. “Not really. Need anything else?”
“No, thanks. I'll be quick.”
“Take your time,” he said. I was surprised when he actually left to give me some privacy.
Maybe he wasn't really as lecherous as he seemed.
I was a little wary of getting undressed with the possibility of strangers walking in, but the most vulnerable parts of me had already been exposed.
I draped the towel over the rack beside the shower underneath the thick cotton robe. I left the clean shirt on the bench. Everything smelled vaguely of Sebastian, but not quite as much as it had the night before.
I turned on the shower and was assaulted by the highest setting on the shower head. It was like a jet stream. I adjusted the head to a more manageable setting and moaned in bliss as the hot water soaked my aching body.
I looked around for any sign of shampoo. A bottle of dog shampoo sat in one corner. I wondered which of them was the subject of that gag gift.
There was a pump on the wall, so I decided to stick with that. At least it was communal. It worked well enough as a shampoo and a soap that I wasn't entirely sure which one it was. It was green and smelled like one of those products marketed exclusively at men, so it might have been all three.
The shower gave me time to think, something I hadn't been able to do since discovering the sketchbook. Now that I was thinking, I couldn't stop. The more Sebastian proved he wasn't a threat, the more it seemed that Victor was. Had my dream last night been trying to warn me? He was the one drawing me.
I sifted through his words from our conversation the night before for any hidden meanings. If there were any, I couldn't detect them.
Then I remembered Sebastian's admission that he had seen the scars on my arm the night before, but was that really true? He hadn't reacted in such a way that led me to believe he'd seen anything out of the ordinary. It was an alarming sight, I was fully aware of that.
Maybe they both already knew. I recalled the perfect precision with which Victor had depicted my every mark and shuddered. However he knew, he must have shown his brother those bizarre sketches. Sebastian may have been the more physically intimidating one, but they both seemed to know things about me that they shouldn't, and it couldn't be explained by Sebastian's claim to knowing me when we were younger. I hadn't even begun harming myself until long after I started seeing Jeff.
I turned off the water, done theorizing for the moment. Whatever was going on, I didn't want answers badly enough to risk sticking around long enough to run into Victor. I needed to see the Alpha, get Arthur's car back to campus, and get back to my normal, delightfully boring life.
I changed into my pants and Sebastian's T-shirt, pulling the robe on to cover my arms and whatever part of my neck my hair didn't already cover. I folded the towel neatly and finger-combed my hair before walking out the door.
The door what felt like a wall in the process and swung back, narrowly missing my face. Had Sebastian barricaded me inside? Before I could finish jumping to conclusions, a hand pulled the door open.
“Hey,” he said from the other side. “I thought you'd be in there longer.”
“Were you standing out there the whole time?” I asked, surprised.
“Well yeah, I didn't wanna have to kick anyone's ass,”
he replied.
I groaned internally. I was tempted to tell me he didn't have to act like my bodyguard, but I didn't think it would be particularly productive. I also wasn't sure I wanted him to stop in case his brother really was some crazy stalker and his attention was the only thing standing between us.
I glanced around the hall for any signs of him. Judging from how quiet the hallway was, they were probably elsewhere.
“Looking for someone?” asked Victor.
“N-no,” I lied. “Just wondering if the Alpha is available yet.”
He cleared his throat, motioning for me to follow him down the hall. “Yeah, about that. He's not here.”
“Oh,” I said, trying to hide my disappointment. “I thought you guys said he'd be here all day.”
“Yeah. We thought so,” he said guardedly.
I hesitated. “You don't know where he is, do you?”
He flinched. I thought he was going to turn on me like he seemed to do with the others, but he didn't show any signs of anger. “No,” he admitted in a defeated tone. “We don't. My brother is out looking for him, I think. Left last night without telling anyone where he was going right after I took you to his room.
“Wait, what do you mean he's going to look for him? Can't you just call his phone?” I asked, confused.
“The old man likes to go low tech and disappear every now and then,” he said. “Can't really blame him. I'm sure running this place is a pain in the ass.”
I didn't doubt it. “Well, that's fine. I only wanted to see him to turn down the reward and uh, tell on you,” I confessed.
Instead of the anger I expected, I got a laugh. “Tell on me? For what?” he asked, far too amused for my liking.
I frowned. “For entering me in the contest without my permission.”
His laughter faded. “Wait, you were serious about that? I didn't enter you in the contest. In fact, I almost got them to pull your name, but then I figured it'd be an okay way to get to talk to you.”