by RJ Blain
If no one stopped them, the witches would succeed.
My rage boiled, shattering the ice within me. A wolf flowed with the seasons. She didn’t fight the tides of time. She didn’t change the circle of life. Lifting my head, I howled. The tiny part of me, she who knew the nature of humans, who always hid somewhere in my chest and head, howled with me.
In that moment, we were wolves, her and me.
We erupted from the bushes at the interloping humans, the enemies of wolves, of nature, and of the wild places of the world.
Chapter Six
My fangs closed on the arm of the old, dominant female. Blood flooded my mouth. Its sweetness was wonderful—salty, metallic, and warm enough to hold the winter cold at bay. My tongue numbed as a static charge swept through me. Settling back on my haunches, I braced myself with my front paws before shaking my head with all of my strength.
The witch screamed, the shrill cry of a dying animal.
A second shake brought her to her knees. Letting the mangled ruins of her arm fall from my jaws, I pounced on her, snapping at her exposed throat.
“Oh, god! Oh, god!” one of the younger females shrieked. Their fear, intoxicating in its strength, drowned out the scent of the fresh blood splattered over me.
My fangs clamped onto the witch’s shoulder, my growls deep in my chest and rumbling in my throat. I gave her a final shake, and she fell limp beneath me. A shape lunged at me from the side. Releasing my prey, I jumped at the crystal in the center of the circle.
I slammed into an invisible barrier, its chill freezing the blood on my muzzle. Pain lanced through my head.
“Kill it,” the old woman gasped out on a gurgled breath.
I twisted to face the humans, pressing my flank to the barrier. The five unhurt humans held their ground. One of the younger females knelt next to the old witch I had mauled. I ducked my head and bared my teeth before howling at the lightening sky.
The world around me stilled, except for the falling snow. It swirled around me before blanketing the ground, muting the vibrant colors of autumn with gray. I felt the pulse of static burst over my fur from the crystal behind me. Blue lights flickered around the naked forms of the witches.
I howled again.
Another wolf answered me. My ears perked forward. It wasn’t the shriller call of a pack warning me away or challenging my territory. It was the warbling inquiry of a wolf seeking permission to enter my turf, my domain.
I barked a warning of danger, of predators, and of difficult prey. The witches stirred at my call, blinking away the stupor holding them still.
If I wanted to stop them, I had to take them all out before they remembered to use their witchcraft against me. The oldest one lived. I couldn’t smell her death. Not yet.
The others hesitated.
I lunged for the second of the older females. She raised her hand, fingers splayed, to ward me away. The stench of burning fur filled my nose. A dull throb spread across my shoulder and along my back. My full weight slammed into the woman’s chest.
We went down in a heap. Before I could close my fangs around her throat, someone tackled me from the side, throwing me off of my prey. I howled in rage.
I wasn’t a large wolf, but I wasn’t small, either. By werewolf standards, though, I was a runt. I snapped my teeth at the interloper. One of the males managed to get his fingers into my fur, throwing me down to the ground. He slammed his knee into my shoulder before he pummeled my muzzle.
Bright bursts of light danced in front of my eyes.
Fingers wrapped around my nose, pinning my mouth shut. I struggled to draw a breath through my clogged, blood-stained nose.
“Hold it down,” the man gasped.
I thrashed and kicked out my hind legs. I felt the resistance of my claws scraping over bared skin. A burst of fresh blood hung in the air. Some of it was mine.
Something in me broke loose. With strength I didn’t know I possessed, I tore free of the human’s grasp and sank my teeth into his flesh.
~*~
Blood stained the snow red. I stood with my legs splayed and head ducked. The humans were gone. Snarls rumbled out of me with every breath.
I didn’t remember the witches escaping. There wasn’t enough blood on the ground for me to have killed or devoured them. There was a gap in my memory, a dark blur. The cold remained, pulsing from the abandoned crystal in the clearing.
The scent of fear and blood lingered in the air. A sneeze wracked through me, awakening pain in my side and across my back. My skin itched and crawled as though a thousand little bugs burrowed into my fur. I twisted around and chewed at the worst of the spots.
It didn’t help. Shaking myself off, I checked the circle one final time. I was alone.
I howled my fury and frustration.
The other wolf answered. It was close enough that I froze, snapping my head in the direction of the sound. The luring aroma of male teased my nose. I backed towards the crystal, nestled in its barrier. A branch snapped somewhere beyond the thicket.
I barked a warning before growling.
My prey had fled, but they left the crystal to me. It, and all of its chilling power, was mine. It had been abandoned. The bloodied clearing was my territory.
A small gray wolf halted at the edge of the clearing, his head low and cocked to the side to expose his throat. The musky scent of the male once again reached my nose. I sneezed, chomping at an itch on one of my forelegs. My eyes didn’t leave the interloper. The cold of winter settled over me, heightening my awareness of him and reminding me that it was the season of mating.
The wolf across the clearing whined, dipping his head lower. The submissiveness of the gesture drew another snarl out of me. I barked a final warning. With a whine, he retreated a pace.
Behind me, the crystal thrummed, the waves of cold intensifying with each passing moment.
The wolf in me wanted it gone.
The witch in me wanted it.
I shivered. In order for either the wolf or the witch in me to get their way, I had to get through the barrier. Keeping one eye on the submissive male, I turned my nose towards the crystal. The barrier reminded me of ice. I rubbed at my nose with a paw in the futile effort of stopping myself from sneezing. I turned back to the invader.
The gray wolf continued to watch me. I pinned my ears back. He wasn’t much smaller than me, but he wasn’t my kind. He wasn’t my species. He wasn’t my pack. While he was undeniably a wolf, I was bulkier in frame, build for bursts of power and true strength. His legs were more slender, as though built for nothing more than running.
Even our coats set us apart. I was red and black. Through the blood caking my fur, I could make out the white stripe across my nose when I glared down at the intruder. I lifted a black-socked paw and stomped at the snow.
The gray wolf flattened himself to the ground with a whine. Submissives. I snarled my disapproval.
I wanted—no, I needed—an Alpha. A leader with whom I could form a proper pack of my own. Together, we would rule the wild places, and be strong. The winter called to me, however early, and I was, yet again, without a mate.
The crystal’s thrumming strengthened.
Freeze, it whispered to me.
I disobeyed the command, growling my displeasure at the objects attempt to subjugate me. The grey wolf swayed, falling to his side with a thump. His legs twitched.
I snarled, twisting towards the barrier. Rage shattered the ice forming within me. The gray wolf, the little submissive male, was an interloper in my territory. It was my duty to punish him. Something swelled within me, similar to the ominous charge of an encroaching hurricane ready to pummel the shore.
The seasons were my domain. The urge to create a den and take a mate faltered beneath the indignation that it wasn’t true winter. The stone was at fault, and it belonged to me.
It was my responsibility.
Winter wasn’t coming early, not when I stood guard. No matter how much I loathed autumn, winter had
to wait for its turn. I barked once. The wolf in me raged, but it was the electric power of the witch that surged forward at my call.
The barrier shattered in a dusting of snow. Frost tinted my fur blue as the temperature dropped from the crystal’s influence. I shuddered and recoiled before I caught myself and braced my legs once more. I curled my upper lip in a snarl and felt the tender flesh of my gums freeze.
The noise I made wasn’t quite a bark. It came out as a short growl. Sparks of energy lit the ice coating me. A bolt of blue-white light arced between me and the stone.
The crystal erupted in a shower of pearlescent fragments. Lightning crackled out in a ring while color and light curtained upwards in a vibrant display of green and red. A column of snow and white luminescence shot upwards. In defiance of the sun, an aurora danced through the air until the ground and the sky shimmered.
The gray wolf lay still. I barked once, but the male didn’t move. I narrowed my eyes, snorting my disgust. I turned away and left the rival animal to live or die. The trees beckoned to me. The air warmed with each gusting of the wind, until the snow turned into rain. Snow melted away to reveal the dark, earthy tones of autumn.
I threw back my head and howled as I ran.
My name was Shimmer, the Caretaker of the Seasons, and I belonged in the wild places of the world.
~*~
I heard the rustle of leaves and the crunch of breaking twigs long before I acknowledged the gray wolf following me. Slinking through the trees, he kept enough distance to avoid being perceived as a threat without being left behind. Each time I halted, one ear cocked back, he continued to move, not even bothering to hide his presence.
It was a miracle of sorts that the wolf was still alive after the crystal’s influence. I had to give the male credit. If he had tried to hide his presence, I would’ve killed him, even though I wasn’t hungry enough to eat the trespasser. It was still too far to drag him back to my sister.
The itch plaguing me spread to my ears. When I halted to scratch at my traitorous skin, the male whined. As if sentient and determined to elude my efforts, the itching, crawling sensation shifted to my paws. Biting at my pads didn’t ease the discomfort. I echoed his noise.
The gray wolf wormed his way closer to me, stretching out his front paws when he was within biting distance. His tail thumped against the ground hopefully. I chewed at one of my claws, eyes focused on him. My whine turned to a low, soft growl.
He rolled over, exposing his pale belly, tail whipping back and forth with excitement. His scent made a sneeze burst out before I could stop it. There was something odd about the other wolf’s scent, as though there was some sour undertone to his male musk.
It reminded me of human sweat.
I pounced, planting my paws on his shoulder. My growls drew another whine from the male. Before he could react, I seized his exposed throat in my jaws.
His fur tasted like soap.
With my nose pressed so close to him, the dirt, the blood, and the scent of wild things that should’ve accompanied the musky scent of a male wolf wasn’t there. The little gray wolf wasn’t a proper wolf at all.
I squeezed my fangs down on his throat until he quieted, trembling beneath my hold. Fighting the urge to shake my head and put the thing out of his misery, I released him. Pity drove me into ramming my nose into his belly, shoving him along the ground. I worked my way between him and the ground so I could force him to his paws.
Only then did I howl, calling for the hunt. Silence answered me. I growled a warning, then I howled again.
The gray wolf still trembled, but he lifted his head and joined my song. I fell quiet, ears pinned back. I herded him with nips at his flank, driving him into a lope until he took the initiative to lead the hunt.
First, I would teach the human-tainted pup to hunt. Then I would drive him away so I could find a mate worthy of me.
~*~
A high-pitched whistle assaulted my ears, buzzing its way through my skull. I jerked in the direction of the sound, slowing to a halt. It sounded again, piercing my ears. I breathed deep in my effort to catch the scent of the sound’s source, the tip of my nose twitched with the need to sneeze.
While faint, I could smell blood on my claws. Annoyance at the unknown noise deepened my bark as I called to the young gray wolf.
He burst out of the underbrush, his tail whipping in excitement. A rabbit writhed in his bloody jaws, its squeals not quite as high pitched as the whistling.
I lunged forward, snapping my jaws down on its head to silence the little beast. Its skull collapsed under my fangs.
The whistle sounded again.
The male’s tail wagged even faster. Turning in the direction of the noise, he made a low whining sound before staring back at me. I huffed my agreement.
Perhaps the sound would lead us to more prey. My hunger grew, but I wouldn’t steal the younger wolf’s first kill.
Next time, however, I would teach him his place in my pack, however temporary it was. Then I would drive him away, so he could find a pack who wanted a lowly submissive.
The erratic bursts of whistling led us down the mountain. Something rumbled as we drew closer. At first, I thought the sound was from the young wolf finally learning how to growl. I cocked an ear towards him, and then turned to face the actual source of the sound. It wasn’t the wolf. I froze, snuffling as I tried to catch the scent through the itching burn in my nose.
A sneeze knocked me back a pace. I rubbed my aching, dripping nose against my foreleg. I tried again, breathing deep of the cool air.
My wolf didn’t recognize the scents, but the part of me I wanted to suppress did.
Oil. Smoke. Gasoline.
A car.
Humans.
I bared my fangs in a silent snarl. The whistle sounded again. It was close. Before I could bark a warning to the gray wolf, he dropped his rabbit in his excitement, bounding forward. He then jerked to a halt, twisting around to snatch his prey, and barreled through the trees. He vanished into the morning fog enveloping the forest.
I huffed. Whatever surprise we had for our prey was likely ruined by the foolish pup. I growled. Alerting our prey gave them a chance to escape. It was yet another thing I would have to teach the young pup before I sent him off on his own.
A human shrieked, and at the high-pitched sound, my wolf rejoiced.
The part of me I didn’t want to acknowledge recognized the voice and named its owner pack.
I surged forward, tearing through the brush. Thorns tore out clumps of my mangled fur. I ignored the burn of fresh cuts, ripping free from the thickets to a clearing marred by exposed, packed dirt.
The gray wolf stood on his hind paws, shoving the rabbit’s carcass at the partially-opened window of an SUV. Blood dripped down the vehicle’s pale paint. I first stared at the young wolf, then at the cringing female hiding within her metal, wheeled cage. The prey—pack, the annoying part of me insisted—had escaped.
The male had, on his own, learned to feed his pack, at least. While I didn’t want to include the human as my pack mate, the gray wolf left me with no other choice. I sat on my haunches and draped my paw over my nose.
“Oh god, I don’t want that. Shoo! Go away,” the woman squealed. Samantha, my caged self remembered. Pack.
I lowered my paw to the ground with a snarl. A human wasn’t part of my pack. I was a wolf. I guarded the wild places from the humans.
Pack, the quiet, caged voice within me insisted.
The gray wolf whined. He was tenacious, I had to admit. It took him a while, but he managed to ram part of the carcass into the window. What didn’t fit draped over the side mirror.
“God, that’s nasty,” the human female—Samantha, my annoying counterpart chided me—said. “Go away. Go!”
Wolves couldn’t laugh, but my tongue lolled out, and I huffed my amusement. The gray wolf wagged his tail, staring expectantly at the human woman hiding within the SUV.
Pack.
My nose b
urned, drawing my attention away from the pup and his attempts to feed our furless, scrawny pack mate. Dragging it across the ground offered little in the way of relief. I growled my frustration, the sound ending in a whine.
The whistle sounded. I pinned my ears back. The whistle hadn’t come from my human pack mate? I tensed, falling back a pace, teeth bared.
Dropping away from the SUV, the gray wolf barked, running in the direction of the noise.
I let him go, focusing my attention on the metal, gas-stinking vehicle and the human within it.
Pack.
I prowled forward. Samantha squeaked, climbing over the seats to get as far away from me as possible. I stood, planting my bloodied paws on the side of the SUV. Snatching the rabbit by its foot, I yanked it down.
Pack, the annoying part of me once again insisted. Snarling my frustration, I pinned the rabbit beneath my front paws and chewed a hind leg off.
Pack or not, if she wanted her share, she’d have to come and take it from me.
~*~
“Allison?”
I lifted my head from the comfort of my paws. Little more than a few tufts of fur remained of the rabbit. I put my ears back and bared my fangs in a snarl.
My name was Shimmer.
Allison, that annoying, supposed-to-be caged part of me disagreed.
Something buzzed. My hackles went up, and my snarl turned into a low growl. The bloodied window of the SUV lowered.
“You scratched half of your fur off,” the human chided.
I pinned my ears flat, increasing the volume of my growl. Samantha, my inner voice reminded me. Pack.
Human.
I quieted and turned my head, pretending the human female wasn’t there until I had a chance to figure out what to do with a fangless, pale-skinned, furless excuse of a human in my pack.
The human was braver than I had originally given her credit for. I caught a glimpse of her leaning out of the window, avoiding the blood staining the vehicle. “Come on, Allison. You have to change back. You promised.”