When I asked myself the same question, I realized that I probably could teach this young werewolf to squash her wolf just like I’d chained mine. But I didn’t want to. Learning to partner with my wolf over the last few weeks had been one of the most profound experiences of my life, and my current shiftlessness was responsible for a solid half of the ache in my stomach. The truth was, I missed my wolf, and would do almost anything to get her back.
I opened my mouth to tell Iris that the solution wasn’t worth the price, that losing your wolf was too painful to even imagine, but before I could speak, my body surged with my almost-forgotten wolf sense. Smells were stronger, the light brighter, and I could even make out Iris’s wolf hovering just beneath the surface of my cousin’s human form. The other wolf was young and scared, the most submissive canine I’d ever met, and with my own wolf rampant, I could almost see Iris’s tail drooping between her legs even though she was currently two-footed.
“You’re worried about what your wolf will do,” I exclaimed, “but she’s so tame and calm!” It was strange to be able to see someone else’s wolf when they were in human form, but I was certain of my diagnosis. “You don’t need to be concerned about your wolf hurting anyone,” I soothed Iris. And then, before my own wolf could retreat back to whatever secret den she’d come out of, I finished silently, Thank you for coming back. My lupine half didn’t answer me in words, but I could tell she was amused at my slowness to realize that I needed her canine presence, and I accepted her humorous rebuke gracefully.
I was still cheering up my cousin when Quetzalli walked in the door, which gave me an idea for solving Iris’s problem. “Do you think your parents will give you permission to leave Haven?” I asked my cousin carefully, and she responded with an eager nod.
“Mom doesn’t want me to stay in Haven,” the young werewolf confirmed, “and she can talk Dad around. I was just afraid to leave....”
“Well,” I interrupted, “in that case, I know just the place for you, and just the person to take you there. The pack I used to live with would be just right for you, and Quetzalli should be getting home soon anyway.”
“Just what I need,” Quetzalli groused. “Someone even younger to babysit.” But I could tell from the glow of her lupine half that she was eager to get home to her partner. Even though I would be left alone in Haven, I was happy too. My wolf had returned.
Chapter 18
“I’ll miss you,” I emoted, pulling Quetzalli in for a lingering hug as she finished zipping up her duffel bag. The idea of sending Iris and Quetzalli away had seemed like a good one a few hours earlier, but now I was realizing how alone I’d be in Haven without Quetzalli’s solid presence by my side. In a way, it felt like I was cutting off my last tie to Wolfie, admitting that I’d chosen to salvage whatever was left of Haven in exchange for losing the possibility of happiness with the man I loved.
Sappy, my wolf interjected, which prompted me to smile instead of cry. Nothing like a canine to bring me back down to planet earth, and to remind me that I wouldn’t be entirely friendless here.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come home with us?” Quetzalli asked, once I released her from the farewell embrace. It was a bad idea, but for a second, I allowed myself to imagine climbing out the attic window that night and slipping through the dark to meet up with Quetzalli on the road. Unfortunately, my mind continued on to the inevitable conclusion of that scenario—the Chief showing up on Wolfie’s doorstep the next morning to take me back by force, the younger alpha challenging my father, and the cousins slaughtering every one of my friends. I might want to go home with Quetzalli, but I wouldn’t do it.
“No, I have to stay here and figure out what’s wrong with Haven,” I told her. “Tell Wolfie....” My voice trailed off as I realized I couldn’t think of anything to say to the young alpha. Tell him I loved him? Bad idea—that would just make the bloodling bring the fight to Haven. Tell him I was sorry? Same result, most likely, since it might make Wolfie forgive me for my harsh words. “Just tell him goodbye for me,” I said finally, and I was glad Quetzalli didn’t linger over her own farewell since I knew I wouldn’t be able to speak again through the sobs trying to force themselves up out of my chest.
WHEN I WOKE, MY THROAT was still sore from the crying jag I’d succumbed to as soon as Quetzalli walked out the door. It was dark outside, but the waning moon was pushing through the curtainless window, filling my attic domicile with a soft glow and proving that I’d slept through the evening and half the night.
I stretched, suddenly wide awake despite the late hour, then glanced across the room at Quetzalli’s empty bed. But the bed was no longer empty. Instead, a large wolf was sprawled across the mattress, and my heart leaped, imagining that Quetzalli had dropped off Iris and then crept back into the attic to rejoin me. Perhaps I wasn’t so alone after all.
But as I tilted my head to the side to get a better look, the wolf tilted her head as well, and I realized the canine was simply my own reflection in the darkened window. My reflection, I tried out the words, and suddenly felt like I was flying. Shiftless no longer, my wolf had come to comfort me with fur.
If I’d been in my human form, I would have laughed at the notion that a fit of self pity was all that was required to break through my inability to change forms. But with the wolf brain and my human side merged into one mind and body, we were instead enveloped by a calm that I hadn’t felt in years. We were able to think clearly for the first time in weeks, without any confusing human emotions to weigh us down.
To celebrate, my wolf and I decided to run together, releasing the last of the angstful emotions that had been churning through our belly. But as we rose into a crouch, we felt paper rather than sheets crinkling beneath our paws, and my human brain jolted back to the forefront.
Looking down, my nose knew what had happened before my eyes could focus on the torn envelope. My dead sister’s scent wafted up from the disinterred sheet of paper, and the wolf and I breathed deeply, knowing that this decade-old aroma would dissipate before long. Despite ourselves, we whined, missing Brooke’s soft lap and gentle hands. She’d sat right here beside us so many times, brushing the tangles out of our wayward hair and braiding it back into a simple plait, or comforting us when we’d clashed with our father over some rule we considered stupid and he considered gospel. Her scent on the paper seemed to bring long-forgotten pieces of my sister back to life in my mind.
“I’m sorry he’s so hard on you,” Brooke had told my human form once, not long before she left home. It had always seemed unfair that my sister could float through her days beneath my father’s radar while I was the harridan who seemed in constant need of reprimands, but I didn’t resent my older sister so much as I hated my father for the unwanted attention. “You know it’s only because the two of you are so much alike, right?” Brooke continued gently, rubbing my back in slow, soothing circles.
“I’m nothing like him!” I retorted, stiffening in horror at the notion that the Chief and I shared anything other than 50% of our DNA. Even before our mother died, I hadn’t wanted to grow up to be like my father, who never had a kind word for any of his children and who believed in an eye for an eye justice.
“You’re just like him,” Brooke disagreed quietly, which got my dander up further. But my sister was always the fence-mender in our family, so I knew she wasn’t being nasty for the sake of getting my goat. “You’re strong and smart and caring....”
“Caring?!” the younger me interjected. “Father doesn’t care about us at all. Don’t you think that if he did, he’d let you apply to colleges like you want?”
Brooke smiled sadly at me, pulling my stiff shoulders into her body until I softened against her curves. “He does care about us, Terra,” she replied. “But he cares about the good of the pack even more.”
THE FINAL HINT OF SANDALWOOD and tomato leaves drifted away even as the memory dissipated, and I knew that Brooke had finally faded from the earth. Actually, that wasn’t true. Her let
ter was still here, along with the words she’d wanted me to have when I was sixteen and she was dying. Whether or not my father was using Brooke’s letter as a means of manipulating me seemed academic now—my sister had been the one who wrote the words, and Brooke always had my best interests at heart. So I tilted my wolf face so I could squint down at the paper and I began to read.
Unfortunately, I could barely make out my older sister’s greeting, and could parse that much only because I knew Brooke would begin her letter “Dearest Terra.” Something about my wolf eyes or my wolf brain made the rest of the missive dissolve into squiggles, and despite waiting for weeks to open the envelope, now that my wolf had done that deed for me, I was desperate to know what Brooke had to say, the sooner the better. But since my shift to wolf form had been involuntary, I wasn’t so sure I could regain my human skin so easily.
I sent the question toward my canine half, and her reply came back quickly. We’ll run later, she conceded, and I almost felt like the sentence was a promised future treat for both of us rather than a deal that I was making with an unwanted darker half. The wolf and I would run later, and I trusted my wolf not to tear into any more toddlers in the process, and to let go of our body when I needed to return.
Now in harmony, we shifted forms in a millisecond, too quickly for me to even feel my snout retracting into my face and the fur sinking into my skin. With human eyes, the night made it too dark to read, so I fumbled for a minute until my hand found the bedside lamp and I could illuminate Brooke’s letter. Then, clutching the paper in my lap, I read my sister’s final words to me.
Dearest Terra,
I’m sorry I won’t get to see you grow into the strong young woman I already know you’ll be. And I’m sorry I never got to see your shining face after I left Haven. I don’t regret the life I’ve built for myself here, but I do regret leaving you alone, the way Father made me promise to do.
I had to break Father’s rules this final time, though, just in case what happened to me happens to you. I told Dale that the doctors diagnosed me with cancer so advanced there was no point in trying chemo, but I was lying, just like I lied to my kind husband about all of my runs in the woods. I hope you’ll find a way to help Keith when the time comes since neither he nor his father will understand my son’s first change. I’ve kept the wolf away from my human family.
But I digress. I’m dying, sweet Terra, because my wolf is eating me up from the inside out. I used to see signs of this in Father sometimes, when he’d gone too long without shifting, but I thought that was just his bloodling nature shining through. I was wrong. Father and I have something in our blood that makes our wolves fight against our human bodies. You probably have it too, but I hope you’re smart and strong enough to find a way to make it work, like Father does. Cricket told me that you’re learning to partner with your wolf in a manner I never would have dreamed possible, so maybe you’ll be able to avoid the curse even if you hold your wolf in. I can’t seem to do the same—I’ve never been as strong as you.
I could let my wolf out to run, but I’m too afraid. I know you’ll think that giving up like this is no better than suicide, but I can’t go back to Haven and my wolf can’t be set loose here. So I’m holding her in, even though she’s gnawing on my bones. It hurts so much. I don’t think I’ll last long.
Once I’m gone, I hope you’ll remember me fondly. I thought of you every day, sweet Terra, even though I have a little boy to keep me busy now, and a husband I don’t begin to deserve. I sent you my love every night before I fell asleep, and I like to believe I’ll be able to love you even after I close my eyes for the last time.
Stay strong, smart, and caring like our father, Terra. But follow your own dreams.
Love from your sister,
Brooke
I could barely make out Brooke’s signature through the tears that were once again streaming down my cheeks, but I was surprised enough at what followed to halt the waterworks. Beneath Brooke’s final line, someone else had scrawled an addendum, and I had to lift the paper to my nose and ask for my wolf’s help before I realized who had authored the postscript. Cricket’s mousy scent of bleach and applesauce rose up from the page, stronger than my sister’s decade-old aroma, but carrying fewer memories. My stepmother’s words were definitely enough to pull me back into the present, though, despite lacking as much emotional impact.
Terra,
Your sister was wise. Your father has been fighting his wolf for years, but lately, I think he’s losing the battle. I see the wolf through his eyes even when we’re alone.
The pack is afraid, and so am I. Please come home. We need you.
There was no fond closing, just a hurried dash and then “Cricket” in the same spiky scrawl as the rest of the postscript. I could imagine my stepmother finishing her note and hurrying to reseal the envelope before my father returned to his office, the usually obedient woman slipping the letter into the back of Brooke’s file to be carried to me. I shivered, imagining what might have happened if the Chief had caught his wife in the act, especially if Father’s wolf was as out of control as Cricket made it seem.
But he hadn’t caught her, and I had come home. And now, at least, I knew what was wrong with Haven.
Chapter 19
“Are you serious?” I asked the next evening when I came down for dinner.
The Chief had remained absent for most of the day, and I considered taking the opportunity to debrief Cricket. But, really, my stepmother’s note and Brooke’s letter said it all. Plus, the people of Haven who I saw scurrying around whenever I went outdoors backed up my hypothesis—my father was disintegrating and his pack was falling into shambles around him. There wasn’t much I could do until the Chief showed back up, so I waited as patiently as I could until he was ready to put in an appearance.
I hadn’t decided what I was going to do about Haven and my father yet, but that larger issue flew out of my mind when I walked into the dining room and saw my father and Cricket waiting for me at the table...along with the saddest set of suitors I’d ever seen. Okay, yes, my girl cousins were right—the potential mates my father had picked out for me were handsome enough. And the men sitting at our table were mostly the right age, although one was old enough to be my father and another looked like he might still be coming to terms with adulthood. But ever since my wolf and I had made up, we’d been sharing the same mind-space, and her senses told me that none of the four were even as alpha as Brooke had been. My older sister had enjoyed many good attributes, but she was not an alpha werewolf, and strong leadership is what Haven needed if it was going to pull itself back together. What was my father thinking?
As if to confirm my analysis, all four suitors bowed their heads at my tone of voice, and despite my concern over the situation, their reaction almost made me laugh. That was certainly a first in Haven—male werewolves submitting to a woman. Or maybe they just wanted to say grace?
The humor fled, though, when my wolf and I took in my father’s canine counterpart. This was the first time in a decade that I’d seen Father while my wolf was wide awake, and she growled deep in her throat at the sight. The Chief’s wolf looked rabid under his skin, twitching and baring its teeth, clearly begging to be let loose. For the first time in years, I felt real respect for my father, who was able to keep such a dominant wolf under control, even though the two sides of his personality seemed to be butting heads rather than working together.
And now that I knew where to look, I could see the strain produced by that internal battle. My father’s face was lined, his jaw clenched, and the piercing eyes that I’d once thought could force me to do anything now seemed almost weak. Crazy Wilder was fighting the wolf...and losing. I spent a second wondering if this was how Brooke had looked during her final days, then I forced myself to focus on the more pressing problem right in front of me.
My father allowed the silence that followed my words to extend out until it was becoming painful, then he finally broke eye contact with me. I
f it hadn’t been such a crazy concept, I would have almost thought the alpha was deflecting his gaze the way a submissive wolf might after trying to stare down the pack leader, but that idea was too ludicrous to hold onto. Instead, my father merely turned to scrutinize my four suitors, then quietly dismissed them from our presence. “You can go now, boys,” he said abruptly, and as one, the male werewolves got to their feet, put their napkins on the table, and filed out the door.
Well, that was...unexpected. “I wasn’t reneging on our deal...”I started, but the Chief talked right over me, any hint of submission long forgotten.
“I see you’re finally ready to take on the job I’ve been grooming you for,” my father intoned. But I didn’t get to learn what job Father was referring to because a formidable knock on the front door stopped our conversation in its tracks.
“Right on time,” the Chief said, taking a sip of water before leisurely rising from the table and leading our little family down the hall. His wolf looked quieter than it had a few minutes before, and the canine now seemed amused, as if we were all on stage, acting out a drama that the Chief had written. I wanted to hold onto that clue, but my breath caught in my throat and all other thoughts fled as the door was flung open and a non-Haven werewolf walked in. My knight in shining armor had arrived.
“RUDE” DIDN’T EVEN BEGIN to describe the act of one pack leader barging into another’s home uninvited. In fact, Wolfie’s behavior was tantamount to an act of war, but I couldn’t avoid the silly grin that spread itself across my face when my favorite wolf stepped over the threshold. My canine half and I could smell his scent—like leaf mold and pine needles—and I realized we were leaning forward as if the young alpha was a huge magnet and our combined wolf and human brains were a pile of iron filings. If the stakes hadn’t been so high and my father hadn’t been present, I don’t think anything could have stopped me from falling into Wolfie’s arms.
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