by Tamar Sloan
With the heaviness of inevitability a rock in my chest, I huddle down on the quad, knowing there’s no protection it can give me. Within a blink, Desna is on the last rise. As I feel my heart rap out the staccato of its last beats, he covers the remaining feet between us.
As I raise my arms to defend myself, he launches into the air. His eyes are luminescent with violence, his teeth covered in lather, and I know the virus is powering his strength.
All I needed was a little more—
The rush of air behind me blows my ponytail in my face. There’s a roar and a collision of bodies, and I wait for it—the power of the blow, the pain of the landing feeling like a scratch compared to what will come next.
But I feel nothing.
Scrabbling my hair back from my face, I freeze.
A massive white wolf has just leaped over me and crashed into Desna. The two bodies, both the color of snow but one so much bigger than the other, slam into the ground. They tumble over the rocky soil, white on white, melding and tangling.
Even before they’ve stopped, the larger wolf has righted himself. He slides back on his paws, already looking to gain forward momentum. Completely focused on Desna, he’s all raw power and determined strength.
I know without a doubt that it’s Hunter.
Desna’s body skids to a stop and before he has a chance to right himself, Hunter leaps. Mouth open, teeth bared, he aims for Desna’s neck.
I jump off the quad, arms reaching out as if I can stop what’s going to happen next.
Hunter’s jaw clamps around the white wolf’s throat. Desna struggles, growling and writhing, and Hunter’s mouth tightens then stops. Desna, wild and rabid, fights the hold pinning him down. Hunter growls, a deep, low sound of warning, and I almost trip at the threat it holds.
As I right myself I prepare to run again. Except I slow. Hunter could have killed Desna in any of the seconds that just passed.
Desna goes limp, his whole body passively submitting. One red dart is still in his neck, the other must have been knocked out during the tumble.
Maybe it was enough…
I see Hunter’s nostrils flare and his eyes dart back to me. I stop.
As I watch, Desna’s body slowly goes limp, his furious eyes closing. Hunter relaxes his hold but doesn’t let go, watching and waiting to see if Desna is really out of it. Several breaths later he steps back. Desna’s unconscious body stays where it is.
I race back to the quad and grab the vet pack. With hands that want to shake, but knowing I don’t have time, I administer first the vaccine and then the globulin. Hunter stays beside me like a bodyguard.
Stepping back, I look at the still form of Desna. He was infected. He was infected and almost died.
Oh god. I almost died.
I look up to find the white wolf watching me.
Something shifts in my chest, a sweet, aching feeling. He’s looking at me in a way I’ve seen so many times before.
It’s my wolf.
Walking forward, I come eye to eye. His copper gaze is a glorious mix of familiar and unfamiliar. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s the one I’ve seen before.
“Hunter. For two years I’ve been having dreams.” I suck in a breath. “Dreams of a white wolf.”
Hunter shakes his wolf head and steps back.
But I close the distance again. “They were so real. The wolf and I were so connected.”
When Hunter shifts back to human, it startles me. I notice the flash of bare chest, his wolf tattoo, and then look up into his eyes again.
He looks like I’m torturing him. “Ava. You need to stop.”
“No, you need to hear this. It’s why we feel drawn to each other.”
“Please, Ava. This isn’t the time.”
It’s my turn to shake my head. Hunter, my white wolf, just saved my life. “Have you always been alone when you’ve been out on patrol?”
Hunter pauses. His mouth closes, his lips thin.
I take a step forward. “Someone has been with you.”
“Ava.”
Hunter’s voice is strangled with pain, but he needs to hear this.
“It’s why you recognized me.”
Our souls recognized each other.
“You’re Ava Phelan, it was inevitable that I be drawn to you. What Were wouldn’t?”
“It’s why —”
“Stop!”
I freeze at the violence in the one word Hunter just shouted. I swallow, confused.
Hunter’s hands spear through his hair. “The only bit you’ve got right is that I wasn’t always alone.” He stares at me, copper eyes ferocious. Why does it feel like he’s telling me I brought this on myself? “There was someone with me. It was a wolf, Ava. A golden wolf.”
The words are a wrecking-ball to my chest. They collapse my lungs, making breathing impossible. I blink through the pain, feeling the sting of tears.
A wolf?
A golden wolf?
I struggle for air, equilibrium, hope. “But—”
“Exactly.” Hunter steps back. “There’s no such thing as a golden wolf.”
And I’ve never shifted. I’ve never been a wolf.
I accepted long ago I never would be.
My gaze drops, scanning the ground as if I’m looking for answers. I was so sure…
Hunter’s fingers are in his hair again, so hard and rough he almost looks like he’s punishing himself. “I’m not the person for you, Ava. I tried to tell you.”
Which is the truth. Hunter has communicated from the beginning that this, us, isn’t meant to be.
I look up, trying to find some sliver of pride so I can speak again, when my eyes widen as I glance over his shoulder. “Hunter!”
Desna has woken up. Faster than he should have, and he’s looking far more alert than I’d expect.
Hunter spins around and he’s instantly by my side, standing slightly in front of me.
Desna shakes his head, flecks of spit flicking out. Slowly, he raises his head. I go to step forward but Hunter blocks me. I let it go for the moment. My parents didn’t believe Achak would recover either. Hunter just needs to see it for himself.
As Desna’s eyes connect with mine my hand flies to my mouth. Oh god…
The yellow of his gaze is filled with fury and malice. His muzzle serrates, revealing teeth shiny with saliva as it drips to the ground.
“Hunter…” My voice is a horrified whisper. “He’s still…”
“Don’t move.”
He’s still Furious.
Without any warning, Desna leaps. As he launches into the air, his jaw opens, a deadly trap seeking blood.
Hunter shifts and his wolf form meets Desna midair. Desna yelps as they crash and collide. By the time they’ve hit the ground, Hunter has his jaws around Desna’s head.
“No!” My scream is the agonized cry of someone who knows what has to happen is inevitable.
One flex of his powerful jaw and there’s a crunch as Desna’s skull collapses. His body falls limp, its thread severed and bleeding as Hunter releases him.
Hunter shifts back to human, chest heaving, shoulders defeated. He doesn’t look at me, doesn’t seek to comfort me, and I’m glad.
I stand there, shattered slivers of hope that feel like they’ve cut me all around.
Slain by the truth. Slaughtered by reality.
My dreams were nothing but the imagination of some girl wishing she was special.
And the lancing pain doesn’t stop there.
The dead, broken body of Desna is unshakeable proof that the therapeutic vaccine didn’t work.
Hunter
THE DAY BEFORE
“Yes, sir.” My hand clamps around the cell phone a little tighter. I keep my voice level and low, hoping I sound mature.
“Noah, remember? As you know, my daughter is someone we’re very protective of.”
Yeah, because she’s the child of the Prime Prophecy. I’m sure she’s lived a life lined with cotton wool.
I haven’t seen any photos of Ava Phelan apart from that one a couple of years ago, but there isn’t a Were that doesn’t know about her. Personally, I’ve seen too much to believe that one person can be what we all need.
The gob-smacking thing is that she’s being sent here.
“We’ll take good care of her, Noah.” I use his first name like he’s asked, even though it feels alien. I feel about sixteen right now. I keep my voice low and sure. “Dawn is here. I’m sure those two will have a lot to reconnect about.”
“It’s the only reason we agreed to this crazy idea.”
Yep. Cotton wool. Probably organic, hand-picked by virgins, cotton wool. “She’ll be safe here, sir—ah, Noah.”
A sigh carries through the phone. “Well, we need to make sure this rabies, Furious as it’s now been named, doesn’t get a foot in the door.”
This time my hand tightens again, but it’s with determination. “The wolves don’t have the numbers to fight it.”
“Exactly. Which is why Ava is arriving with the vaccines.”
The vaccines. I’ve already heard the story about two of their wolves being infected. One was cured, but the other killed before they could help it.
“At least we have a game plan.” Which is more than we’ve had for wolves as a whole.
There’s a humph of agreement. “You seem like a sensible guy, Hunter. Mature for your age.”
Becoming Alpha at sixteen will do that to a person, but I don’t say it. I can hear that Noah’s trying to convince himself his precious only child is going to be okay. “Rendell means protector of the wolf—we’ve made that our mission here on Evelyn Island.”
Except there are two things that have made Ava famous enough that her reputation arrived long before her. Her inheritance of the Prophecy, meaning the belief that she’s some sort of savior.
And the knowledge that for two years, she hasn’t changed. It seems she’s the least wolf out of all of us.
“I knew your father, Hunter, I’m glad you’re carrying the torch.”
I’m glad Noah can’t see the wince. I doubt Dad would be proud to see that my legacy involves captive breeding. I decide it’s time to lighten the mood. “My mom has set up a room for her,” I don’t mention it’s my room seeing as I barely sleep in there anyway, “and she’s looking forward to meeting her. She’ll be well looked after.”
There’s another sigh. I’ve heard the same sound from my mother. It’s the sound of a parent struggling to accept things are moving faster than they’d like and it worries them…but they know there’s little they can do.
“Ava is…special, Hunter. We want her away from Furious and away from danger.”
I picture a girl walking with bubble wrap strapped around her body. “Well, you’ve made the right call then. You’re sending her to the quietest pack of wolves and neck of the woods you could.”
Noah chuckles. “We know.”
We say goodbye and I hang up. Leaning back in the office chair, I enjoy the brief moments of solitude here in Resolve. Dawn is deep in the lab somewhere, and she sent KJ to town to buy more of her herbal teas—uncaffeinated lolly water in my opinion. Mom kept Riley at home so they could clean the already three-times-cleaned house before our visitor arrived. The visit from Ava, aka Were royalty according to my mother, has brought a spark to Mom’s eye that’s nice to see. I’m just glad I could say I needed to man the fort so I could get out of removing non-existent dust particles.
Watching the pups thrive and grow, planning for their release, has put everyone in a positive frame of mind. Hope really flourishes under these conditions. It’s been a ripple free year, one where Resolve could probably be left unattended for short periods, but old worries die hard.
Things are going so well I keep expecting golden wolf to disappear. Knowing she has to be a creation of a mind that had considered giving up, the lack of tension in my mind had begun to worry me. But she’s been there, any night I’m out as a wolf, and we run together, simply sit together, glorying in our connection.
Relief is a feeling I’ve been spending some time with, too. It looser, lighter than what I’ve been carrying for so long. It means desperate suggestions like KJ made won’t ever get air time again. A wolf-Were hybrid. I shake my head, wiping my hand down my face. All hope would have to be dead for me to think that’s a good idea. The collective response to this Furious virus shows us what we can achieve. It’ll be stamped out before it can do any more damage.
A movement on one of the screens catches my eye and I lean forward. Zephyr is pacing the fence line, the one closest to the car park. This wouldn’t normally be an issue, but he was moved into the breeding enclosure a couple of days ago as we wait for Sakari to come in heat again. The next litter of pups is what we all need to feel like our steady progress is gaining traction.
So, the fact that Zephyr is nowhere near his mate is unusual. Add that to the pacing that seems somehow…different, and I walk over to look more closely. Zephyr is panting, and there’s an energy to his movements that even the grainy security camera has picked up. Zephyr on edge has me on edge.
I’m about to head out when I see the next screen. Cursing, I rush to the door. The camera on the carpark just showed two people climbing out of a car.
And one of them is Alistair.
I shove open the door, deciding it’s time Alistair learns this isn’t a place he wants to return to.
“Gloria, honey. I want you to get this.”
The woman with Alistair is about twice his spindly width and far more muscled. She lumbers over to him, carrying her phone horizontally. Alistair is indicating towards Zephyr, who’s still pacing along the fence.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got you covered,” he says as he pats his hip.
They’re so focused on getting footage that they don’t hear me approach. I decide to let them know I’m here, biting each word off through my clenched jaw. “Get. The. Hell. Out. Of. Here.”
Alistair visibly jumps, his fly-away combover flipping up in the breeze. Gloria, on the other hand, looks like she’s built from a mountain. She turns to look at me, curious but not alarmed.
Straightening, Alistair crosses his arms. “Ah, Hunter Rendell.”
So, Alistair has been doing some research.
“I’ve come to show some others exactly what these animals are like.”
A low growl carries on the breeze, quiet enough that I doubt these two hear it, but loud enough for tension to wind itself around my spine. Now isn’t the time for Zephyr to get defensive. “Neither of you are welcome here. I’ll be making that formal as soon as you’re gone.”
Alistair smirks. “Good luck with that. They tried it at Jacksonville and the authorities turned them down. Apparently I don’t pose a threat.”
Unless he’s the one who baited the pups. My hands are fisted so tight they feel like rocks. “You’d need an army to be a threat, Alistair.”
The smirk dips and I know I’ve struck a nerve. Alistair has never been able to gain traction because he’s never had any support.
Except today he’s brought someone else.
Gloria has been moving, she probably thinks quietly and unobtrusively, closer to the enclosure while we’ve been speaking. I turn towards her. “Not another step.”
She pauses to glance over her shoulder. “No harm in having a closer look.”
Zephyr’s growls escalate, as does the pacing. I’m not sure what’s got up his muzzle, but I may as well use it to my advantage. “He doesn’t think so.”
Gloria stops, now a couple of yards away. She takes in the white, alpha wolf and Zephyr stops too. His head drops as his eyes center on her. The next growl is several decibels louder.
“You’re fine, honey. This is exactly the sort of stuff we want the rest of the world to see.”
I turn back to Alistair, incredulous. He’s sending Gloria closer while he stays here? But Alistair is looking at her, nodding encouragingly.
Gloria shrugs, and begins to move again.
She hasn’t completed a step before Zephyr snaps at the fence, spittle flying from his mouth. Gloria jerks back, her hand coming up to her chest. “You were right, Alistair.” She lifts her phone and starts to film again.
This is starting to feel a little out of hand. I’ve never seen Zephyr like this, even in the wild. He’s getting so worked up that foam has started to line his mouth.
And this is just what the world doesn’t need to see of these gentle, majestic creatures.
Striding forward, I decide it’s time this ends. “You don’t have permission to film. You need to leave. Now.”
Gloria ignores me, her focus on nowhere but Zephyr. Like he’s working himself up into a frenzy, Zephyr starts snapping at the wire over and over. The growls and barks and snarls are full of anger.
“I told you, Gloria! This is exactly what they’re like.”
Gloria’s phone lowers a little as she stares over it. Her eyes are wide as she takes in the rabid animal that’s trying to eat its way through the chain-link fence.
Rabid…no, it can’t be…
“Get a little closer, this is just what our cause needs.” Alistair’s voice is full of excitement.
My chest is full of dread. “No, Gloria.” I stop myself before I say it’s not safe. Words like that would be a jewel in Alistair’s crown of victory.
Gloria shrugs her broad shoulders and lifts the phone as she steps forward.
It’s like a red flag to angry Zephyr.
He unleashes his violence onto the fence, jumping and throwing himself against it. He does it with such brutality that the fence bows with each collision and spittle flies as he looks like he’s trying to break through it.
Gloria has frozen. Her eyes are like two moons in her wide face, her mouth slack. The fence is the only thing that separates her from an animal that seems to want her dead.
My chest feels like a rock has lodged in my sternum.
Something has Zephyr riled, and these are the last two people who need to see this. They’d never believe this isn’t like him.
Deciding I’ll drag them to their car myself, I take three steps in Gloria’s direction. Zephyr will calm once these two idiots get out of his face.