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**Part Four**
Chapter 1
She walked through the muddy ground on the mounded ridge and crouched low. She watched the deer as it swam across the channel of water. The doe’s front hoof splashed as the bottom rose to meet it. She guessed the deer was two years old, based on its size. She was wary enough to look around, but not experienced enough to see the wolf crouching between the trees.
The doe turned and began to climb out of the water. Her hooves squelched in the sucking mud, slowing her. The wolf rose, knowing her time was now. She sprang around the trunk of the tree, her rear claws digging deep in the mud and kicking the wet dirt high into the ground.
The doe jerked her head around and dropped low so her belly touched the water again. She blew and dug her hooves in while her front shoulder dropped so she could turn away from the wolf. The water and mud slipped, making the doe lose her footing. Her hindquarters hit the water and softened the blow, but it put her reactions off and caused a fatal delay.
The doe sensed escape to land was doomed so she turned and tried to take to the water. The wolf bore down on her, changing course and slamming into the deer even as the hoofed animal splashed deeper. The doe fell in the water and scrambled back to her feet, bleating her panic. The wolf’s jaws clamped down on the doe’s neck and crushed together.
The doe struggled but the water blunted the striking hooves. Unable to draw in any air, her strength faded fast. The wolf tipped the doe over as soon as she sensed the doe’s strength was failing and put her weight on it to seal the deer’s fate. The doe thrashed a few more times and then shuddered and went still.
The wolf shook her head, ensuring that the doe was dead. She couldn’t feel her heartbeat in her mouth, nor did she feel any tension in the doe’s muscles. Satisfied, she dragged the doe out of the water and onto the muddy bank. She looked around, searching for any scavengers or predators that might think to steal her kill. Seeing nothing, she turned to the side of the carcass and bit down. She closed her eyes to keep the gore from blinding her as she feasted. Her sharp teeth pierced the fur and flesh and she let the first spray of blood across her tongue.
Her senses exploded and she snorted. She was starving and she needed the meal. Her body was weak and aching. She snapped her jaws again but felt no resistance, only air. She stretched, reaching out and trying again. Nothing.
Crystal blinked her eyes open and saw the flickering shadows across a ceiling made of vines, branches, and weathered wooden planks. Her throat ached and her mouth felt like it was filled with cotton. Her lips were puffy and even licking them proved they were chapped and dry.
“Crys!”
Crystal moved her head enough so that gravity took over and it flopped to the side. A shirtless Hank was next to her in three long strides. He reached down and rubbed her cheek with his strong hand.
Crystal tried to smile but it hurt her lips. She gave up and let herself sag against whatever she was laying on. She guessed it was Clover’s bed since she could see a wall above her head and the other wall behind her.
“You scared me,” he said with a soft and raspy voice.
She opened her mouth to try to respond but he shook his head and pressed his fingers to her lips. She kissed them and lay still, too tired to protest.
“Give her this,” Clover said from somewhere behind Hank. Crystal couldn’t see around her broad-shouldered savior and didn’t have the energy to try. “She must eat.”
Hank turned away from her and then twisted back, holding another one of the witch’s bowls. Crystal’s eyes widened and she tried to shake her head. She’d had enough of Clover’s brews and concoctions and misery!
Clover stepped around Hank and looked down at her. She studied Crystal’s face and then said, “It’s warm, not hot.”
Crystal narrowed her eyes and then grunted. She winced, her dry throat feeling like it was stretching and splitting open from the simple sound. Hank came to the rescue, dropping down to one knee beside the organic bed and gently slipping a hand under her head to tilt it up. He brought the bowl to her lips and nodded encouragement until she parted her lips. He placed the edge of the bowl against them and slowly let the warm broth spill into her mouth.
The smell and feel of the warm liquid chased the shadows away. She found the strength to lean forward more and capture more of the soup. She swallowed the broth down, feeling each tiny shred of meat and each fiber of vegetable mixed into it. It was salty and wonderful, reminding her of a gritty chicken broth.
She saw Clover moving and tried to tilt her head up. She sloshed some of the soup, making it run down her chin and neck. Hank got the message and pulled the bowl back out of her way in time for her to watch Clover pull back a blanket made of grasses and tiny vines woven together. Crystal felt the cooler air cause her nipples to crinkle and stiffen. Her breath hissed through her nose as she glanced up at Hank. He smiled down at her, his eyes fixed on her face.
Crystal blushed and swallowed the mouthful of soup and licked her lips. The salty broth stung but it felt good at the same time. Her throat was lubricated and even the stinging in her sinuses began to abate. She remembered all that she’d been through and the countless chances Hank had to see her body. If he was still there and still helping her, he didn’t care what size dress she wore. He really was perfect.
“You are weak,” Clover said.
Crystal looked at her and let her eyes narrow. She cleared her throat to test her voice and then tried to say, “I know I’m—”
Crystal frowned and took a few breaths to steady herself. She could barely make the words come out.
“Like I said, you are weak,” the witch repeated. “Your spirit is strong—one of the strongest I’ve seen—but your body is burnt up.”
Crystal wanted to scream at her that she burned her.
“What you did was amazing,” Hank agreed. “I can’t imagine doing something like that.”
“Ama—”
“Hush,” Clover chided her. “Save your strength.”
Crystal had the strength to scowl. She wanted to ask questions and to talk. She knew she should be extremely thankful to Clover, but the witch was unpredictable and bossy enough she rubbed her the wrong way. “What. Happened?”
Hank frowned and glanced at Clover. The witch shrugged and said, “You know better than we do. We saw you struggling and carrying on. You changed, in part, many times. That’s how you got your hands free and were able to cut yourself so you could remove that tumor.”
“Tumor?” Crystal breathed. She jerked her head to the side. “The Beast!”
Clover nodded. “He’s been taken care of.”
Crystal let out a breath and lowered her head back to the mass of soft grass that served as a pillow. She smiled and felt, for the first time in days, like there might be a future for her after all.
“More?” Hank asked as he lifted the bowl. “You should eat—you’re wasting away.”
Crystal smiled and nodded. She knew better—she was a heifer—but Hank was so sweet.
He helped her pick her head up and let her sip more of the broth. It tasted divine as she did everything short of inhale it. She glanced down when it began to thin out and noticed, for the first time, that the residue left in the bowl wasn’t a golden hue of chicken broth, but a reddish brown. She stopped and pulled her head back, spilled another dribble down her cheek until Hank righted the bowl and pulled it away.
It wasn’t chicken soup she’d been drinking, unless the witch had used the chicken’s blood to thin the soup.
Chapter 2
“How is she?”
Crystal jerked awake and turned to see a naked Ember walking in. Her skin was wet and glistening while her dark red hair was plastered to her head and neck. She admired Ember’s lean body. She wasn’t petite by any means, but she was more than half a foot shorter than Crystal was. She didn’t even want to think about how much less the girl weighed.
Crystal stopped herself. Ember wasn’t a girl
. She was older. Quite a bit older, in fact. Ember was a woman, even if she did look like she could be a student in one of Crystal’s high school senior classes.
Guntar and Gwen followed, each holding chunks of dripping meat. The smell of butchered flesh and blood reached Crystal’s nose and her belly rumbled beneath the grass blanket. She knew from the smell it was the remains of a deer.
Crystal gasped and remembered her dream. She’d forgotten about it, but now it felt as real as any memory she’d ever had. Guntar and Gwen were naked and dripping, the same as Ember. The difference was the blood dripping from their hands.
“You’re awake,” Guntar said while Gwen smiled at her.
“You gave us quite a show last night,” Gwen added. “I knew you’d make it.”
“She’s stronger than all of us,” Hank said as he climbed to his feet from where he’d been sitting on the floor at the foot of her bed. He sniffed and licked his lips. “That smells good.”
Clover stepped out from behind some hanging vines with some metal rods in her hand. “Cook the meat first, at least. She’s not well enough to handle it raw.”
Raw meat? The thought repulsed Crystal at first. Her dream flashed through her head, reminding her of the thrill of the hunt and the smell and taste of a fresh kill. She mewed softly and turned her head away, but only for a second. She looked back, her eyes going to the torn strips of muscle. Her belly grumbled again.
Her belly! Crystal had ripped a hole in her belly and stuck her hand inside last night. Or this morning. Whenever it was. She’d yanked out a chunk of hardened blood and tissue that was the size of a tennis ball. It was the Beast, or what remained of him. The part that had infected her and was going to take control of her. It had already changed her some. Little things inside that she’d felt when she’d managed to fight it off with the help of the wolf.
She closed her mouth and swallowed. The wolf. It was part of her now. She’d accepted it last night and it had accepted her. They needed each other if they were going to win. Now they were one. Except she had no idea what that meant. She didn’t look furry and her teeth weren’t sharp. She didn’t have a tail or feel a need to pee on a fire hydrant.
Guntar took the roasting sticks and speared all four pieces of meat in a row. He took a second stick from the witch and ran it through the meat, a few inches apart. It was a simple but obvious trick that would let him rotate the meat over the fire without it slipping on the sticks.
“Hello?” Ember said, snapping her fingers to get Crystal’s attention.
Crystal looked up from the meat to the redhead and saw her smile. “Hey, sorry,” Crystal said, her voice cracking. She coughed and cleared her throat before trying again. “Sore throat. I’m, um, alive?”
“More than you should be,” Ember said. She sat down on the bed next to Crystal and rested her hand on Crystal’s arm. “I’ve never seen anything like that.”
Crystal raised an eyebrow. “What happened? I mean, what did it look like?”
“You don’t want to know,” Gwen answered.
Ember nodded. “None of us have ever heard screaming like that before. And the way your body went through so many partial shifts, it was amazing. You really should be dead.”
“It hurt,” Crystal remembered. “Hurt so bad I finally stopped feeling it.”
Hank growled from where he stood near the foot of her bed.
Crystal looked at him and enjoyed the lines and ridges his muscles made beneath his skin. Everything from a mild six-pack to a bulging chest, shoulders, and arms. He was a living and breathing statue of a Greek god.
“You’re not poisoned anymore,” Ember said, startling her out of her staring.
“What?”
“The Beast’s poison,” the redhead said. “It’s gone. You’re not in heat anymore.”
“I’m not—oh!” Crystal turned her attention back to Hank. Did that mean he wouldn’t be interested in her anymore?
Hank met her eyes and smiled. “I still want you,” he said.
Crystal let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. She grinned and nodded. “Me too!”
Ember chuckled and stood up. She picked up the organic blanket and pulled it down Crystal’s body before she sat back down beside her. The cooler air made her skin pucker, and her nipples stiffened and reached for the sky. “You’re still skin and bones. Never seen anything like that either.”
Crystal glanced down at herself and had to pick her head up to see past her breasts. Her stomach did look sunken and she could see her ribs standing out and holding up her skin. She let her head back down and asked, “Like what?”
“It took hours,” Gwen said, “but it looked like you were shrinking. Melting away, maybe, except nothing but sweat and blood dripped from you.”
“Blood?”
Ember and Gwen nodded while Hank tightened his fists. “You hurt yourself, remember?” Gwen asked.
“Oh!” Crystal forced herself up and looked at her stomach again. Ember pulled the blanket all the way to Crystal’s hips so she could see herself. The light played across some smooth pink lines on her belly. It reminded her of the bite on her foot the Beast had given her. Healed mostly, but still fresh.
Crystal shook her head. “I don’t understand,” she asked and then collapsed back onto the bed. She stared at Ember and Hank. “The Beast is gone, right? I mean, you said he was. But he was what kept healing me.”
“The Beast changed you,” Clover said and stepped around Hank to stand between him and Ember. She reached down and ran her fingers across Crystal’s scar. Crystal shivered, tickled by the sensation of the witch’s fingernails. “With the blood of the wolf, you will still recover from most nearly any wounds. Silver will bother you and you will find yourself drawn to nature. You will be more primal. More organic. More alive.”
Crystal nodded as she spoke. “I knew about the silver. And living longer.”
Clover nodded. “For any of your friends—”
“Pack,” Ember corrected the witch.
Clover turned an amused look on the woman and then returned her attention to Crystal. “Yes, for any of them, living like this is natural. They will tell you what you must know. But there will be things they can’t tell you.”
Crystal smiled at Ember and twisted her arm to slip her hand into Ember’s and gave it a squeeze. “You mean I have to experience them myself?”
“Yes, and no. You are different. The Beast changed you before you chased him off.”
“Changed me how?”
Clover shrugged. “That’s for you to find out. We saw you fighting for your soul, but we don’t know what that means other than you are you.”
“What? Of course I’m me! Who else—oh! You mean I won and didn’t turn into him, or let him take over. Or whatever.”
The witch nodded.
“It was weird,” Crystal said. “I heard him, telling me to give up. He was so strong and scary. Then I felt the wolf in me. It felt like they were fighting here, in my belly. It hurt. Jesus, it hurt!”
Ember squeezed her hand again and brought a smile to Crystal’s lips.
“You’re not what I expected,” Crystal said to her.
“Neither are you,” Ember said. “I saw this whiny little kid who couldn’t control anything about herself. You were a victim. Prey. Soft and weak.”
Crystal grimaced. “And you were a bitch.”
Ember grinned. “Good.”
“So what changed?”
“The kid I saw wouldn’t have been able to fight like you did. Twice now I’ve seen you do something that you couldn’t have known how to do. You had no instincts. No training. Barely even any sense of how ignorant you really were.”
“Um—”
Ember chuckled. “You did good, Crystal. Better than good. I’m honored to call you my sister.”
Crystal’s eyes blurred as tears welled up in them. She squeezed Ember’s hand and felt pressure in response. She was smiling and trying not to cry at the same time.
Gwen and Guntar moved in closer, each of them smiling down at her.
Guntar caught her eyes and nodded. “As soon as you’re well enough, we’ll show you everything.”
Crystal swallowed and asked, “Everything?”
“How to hunt and how to hide.”
“Hide?”
He chuckled. “Norms don’t like it much when they see someone skulking through their backyard without any clothes on because you just shifted back.”
“Oh!” Crystal blushed and nodded. She was excited and couldn’t wait. She glanced past them, moving a little and feeling how weak her body still was. She didn’t want to wait but she didn’t have a choice. Even standing up would probably be impossible for her right now. “Is the venison ready yet?”
“That’s the spirit!” Guntar said. He turned and walked towards the fire to tend to their dinner.
Crystal turned her attention back to Clover and found the witch staring intently at her. “Soon you’ll be ready. Tonight, I think, but you’ll still feel weak.”
“Ready for what?”
“To leave,” Clover said. “And then you can repay your debt.”
Crystal’s breath caught in her throat. She’d been so caught up in everything she’d forgotten about the price of Clover’s help. The witch had offered to take her life and use her body, but now that moment was passed. More than passed: she was on the mend and looking forward to a long and amazing life. “What, um, price?”
“I saved your life,” Clover reminded her. “You will give me another life in exchange.”
Crystal gasped. “You want me to kill someone? I can’t—”
Clover shook her head. “A life for a life. I have no use for a dead person.”
“Then who?”
Clover tilted her head a few degrees and said, “Bring me your friend, Stephanie.”
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