The Shadow Moon: Wolf Awakenings

by Caroline Frye

  All three of us are shaken, bruised and tense from the fight, so no one talks during the drive. Feeling safe at last, we relaxed from the battle that happened back at the cliff. We sit motionless and quite glad to have escaped the literal jaws of death.

  After Channing leaves, Gracie takes a quick shower and a nap. I shower, but my mind is too muddled to go to sleep. Grams used to say the truth will set you free, but the sharp teeth of the truth are gouging my mind with more questions. Why did the wolf that attacked me smell like the stranger from the station? And, how do the wolves know Channing? And what did he mean by ‘bound to the land?’ I know it probably has something to do with the moon—it’s bright and full now. I’ve read that when it’s full, it can cause emotions to go wild in humans making their darker sides grow even darker. But, making them change into wolves? How could that even be possible? Even if it’s a shadow moon? I’ve got to talk to Grams.

  So, knowing full well, I shouldn’t, I sneak out of the inn and head straight to Grams’ grave. Even though she can’t answer, I can spill my deepest fears and maybe get some relief. It’s the edge of dark, the time when shadows grow like snakes and slither across the ground, groping roots and tickling dry leaves. I swagger up the hill and stand at the foot of her grave, wishing she could read my mind. And wishing she could reach out from the grave and hug me like she used to when I was troubled. I longed for her arms around me, but I will settle for her listening. “Grams, remember I said I would let you know when anything in my life changed or I learned something new? Well, things are changing fast now. And I learned some things that are bizarre. I’m not even sure how to tell you.”

  And I meant it. How do I tell her? How do I even say out loud that my partner is a freaking wolf—I can’t. I heave a deep breath of the night air with my arms dangling at my sides. “It’s okay, Grams. I just came to visit. I have a few things on my mind, but I’ll figure this one out myself—I have too.

  I promise to come back in a week or so and see what you have hidden inside that trunk.” I stagger down the hill and glance at Grams house. She loved living out near the woods, but the house just looks lonely. I decide to check on it to at least make sure everything is okay. I hop on my bike and wind down the narrow road, feeling better about myself already.

  When I enter the old place, I do a quick check through the rooms and turn to leave. Then I get the trunk on my mind and head upstairs. No time like the present to find out what’s hidden inside. I dash up the steps and push open the attic door. There’s a stool beside the trunk, I sit down and brush dust from the trunk lid. I grab the handle and lift—the trunk lid squeaks open—it’s packed full. I sit the tray over onto a box to get an idea of what it contained. Grams always was a neat freak—clothing on my side with books and papers on the other. I almost choke at the smell of old papers and decaying garments. Mostly just personal items. I turn and look at the tray. I see lots of family pictures, certificates, and other documents but nothing out of the ordinary. But when I replace the tray and start to close the trunk, I notice something strange—the corner of a notebook sticking out from the edge of the tray where the lining has deteriorated. A secret hiding place? My heart pounds at finding it as I pull it out. Grams, diary? She always was one for secrets. I’m tickled that I took time to look, but I must get home for the dance. I close the trunk and lock up.

  I drive home filled with excitement, my mind trying to imagine what secrets Grams diary holds. I’m speeding to get home—not noticing anything. When I reach the inn, I park the bike and sneak inside hoping not to run into anyone—too anxious to talk.

  Once in my room, I take a quick look at the diary just to get an idea of Grams thoughts. I sit on the bed with the book on my lap. My mind wanders back to her time as I traced the engraved binding with my finger. I lift the book on its spine and let the pages fall open where they may. I forget to breathe for a moment, feeling like I’m looking back in time. My heart races as I read;

  August 14, 1935

  It’s been a long summer—ever since my twentieth birthday strange things have been happening. When the moon is full, I turn into a wolf if I leave home. It’s some weird curse and other people are at the moons’ mercy…they turn every month. Mama says don’t worry—we’re safe at Weermore because of the special rocks on our land. She broke one of the rocks into pieces and made us all necklaces. Now… we can go anywhere without fearing the moons curse. Hopefully, I’ll be safe now thanks to my necklace. I’m going to walk to town tomorrow just to try it out.

  Anya

  After reading the passage, I slowly lay the book down and stare—unseeing out the window. My lips part. Grams not only knew about the wolves—she was one. Um. Now I understand what is meant by bound to the land—it’s because of the quartz rock, it protects shifters from the moons power. I hear Gracie coming up the stairs, so I slide the diary under my pillow for later. I have too much on my mind to concentrate. I’ll read it later tonight after the dance—when I can relax and enjoy Grams private thoughts—alone.

  As Gracie and I dress for the dance, she is as nervous as a wild cat and full of questions as usual. I’m in the bathroom, trying to arrange my hair while she talks through the door.

  “What happened while I was knocked out? I know you got away, but how? Was that when Channing showed up? Did he chase that man away? And did the wolves attack you? Come on, say something.”

  I stop fiddling with my hair and glance out the bathroom doorway. “Gracie, it’s all messed up...just be glad we are both alive, okay? I’ll tell you everything later. We’re going to be late for the dance.”

  “Okay, okay. I know, I’m just full of unanswered questions. And about you and Channing. Anything you care to share with your bestie?”

  “Not now...let’s go, there’s Channing—we’ll talk later, I promise.”

  Gracie waves goodbye, knowing that I want to be with Channing. “I seem to have a date tonight anyway,” she says starting toward the entrance where a tall blonde guy looks to be waiting for her. I’m glad. It’s about time she finds someone.

  “See you at home later,” I call after her.

  Later, when we arrive, the spring fling is in full swing complete with music—and loud as heck. Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves. We have no problem seeing our way toward the building with the moon glowing like a floodlight. We shove our way through the doors and start across the crowded room. A few people yell and wave us over to join them. We struggle across the dance floor and have a couple of drinks. There’s a bit of small talk, but my mind isn’t on having fun. I’m too tense to talk or dance. My thoughts are all on one thing: Channing and his wolf shifting powers. He promised to explain himself tonight—he had better keep that promise.

  For a while, we go our separate ways; Gracie and I find a seat to talk. Channing heads across the floor, and later I see him talking to Ian. At first, they seem friendly enough, but then, I notice a change in attitude like they’re quarrelling and they both stomp off.

  We hang out for a while and enjoy the music, just to be sociable, but I’m not into it. My palms are sweaty, and thoughts about my partner turning into a wolf are driving me crazy. I’m just about to lose it when he takes my hands and nods toward the door. Finally. Maybe he’ll explain all the crazy I’m a freaking werewolf stuff away, and we can get back to the work at hand—hunting down a wolf pack. I wish that could be true.

  The moon is slipping over the mountain as we leave the dance, hurrying down the steps toward his car. I think we’re heading to the park, but he drives past the exit and heads out of town toward Trundledown Bridge.

  I shift in the seat to face him. “Where are we going?”

  He doesn’t answer at first, but then coughs. “I want to show you something.”

  “Show me what? Another town secret,” I huff, slumping in my seat and feeling uneasy.

  “No…not a secret—my cabin. If you like the outdoors, you’ll love my log cabin.” He smiles looking toward me, his bright eyes sparkl
ing. I’m not sure how much I’ll like his cabin or whatever he has planned, but I relax and settle in for the drive.

  We cross the bridge and take a right turn, which takes us directly into the woods. The trees shroud us in impenetrable darkness, broken only by the bouncing headlights of the patrol car. I recall the wolves and half expect to be attacked any moment. Then, just as I feel the fear of doom, the welcome sight of porch lights, stream like beacons through the trees down the road in the distance. I catch my breath and lean forward, eager to see the cabin.

  Channing has been flying down the dirt road, hitting every bump and pothole. Now he gooses the gas and skids into the driveway. I’m tightlipped from his driving but refuse to show how upset I really am—Channing or nobody is going to control my emotions.

  When Channing jumps out of the car, I swing open the door and follow. “This is it,” he brags, “home sweet home.” The sounds of croaking tree frogs fill the night air. Our boots click up a stone path and across a wooden porch. He takes a key from a ledge above the door, unlocks the door, and swings it open. My eyes widen. The cabin is unexpectedly huge. Channing smiles. “Want something to drink?” he asks. “I have Red’s Ale.”

  I nod. “Sure.”

  He clamors past a stairway, under a long balcony and disappears. The front room stretches the full length of the cabin, long with two windows which are both shuttered. Everything is wooden, even the walls. A large area rug separates half the front room into a sitting area near one of the windows, and a massive chandelier hangs from the ceiling.

  He hurries into the room gulping an ale. “Here,” he says handing me one. Then he lights the fireplace. “Thought you might enjoy this later,” he says, smiling that smile of his.

  I don’t know what he’s thinking. I can’t do this now—it’s too soon. Here’s the thing, I just came here to Witherfell to straighten out my miserable life—and I don’t want to hurt him. But before I can say say a word, he grabs my hand. “Come on…I have a surprise for you.” He pulls me out the door and down the steps.

  Channing turns on a flashlight and hands me one as he turns down a path into the woods. Okay, now I’m a little disturbed. Wolves— “Where are you taking me?” I whisper, not wishing for anything that’s wandering around in the woods to hear me.

  He smiles. “Oh, come on chicken,” he laughs. “It’s okay. It’s the surprise. There’s nothing going to hurt you—I promise.”

  I follow him further down the long path deeper through the woods. This had better be good. I’m getting more frustrated by the moment. Then, just as suddenly as we had started our walk, he stops. And there in a clearing under the moonlight is a quarry with a large lake and the loveliest waterfall spraying from the mountains that I have ever seen. A warm breeze blows from the woods. I breathe softly, watching the moonlight rippling across the water. Trees surround the small lake like a natural privacy fence. Several large boulders stand like guards along a narrow beach. Tonight, the area is well illuminated thanks to the moon.

  “It’s beautiful.” I sigh trying to take it all in.”

  Channing grins. “It’s the shadow moon. I want you to see it out here in the wilderness to feel the full effect. So…was it worth the trip?”

  I nod. So…this is the special moon he warned me about earlier. It’s supposed to cast a strong spell on me…make me feel different. I don’t feel anything. I’m fine.

  “Okay then, let’s not waste the night.” He kicks off his boots and tosses his shirt over a rail. It’s been a long hot day and I can almost feel the cool water wrapping itself around me. I get undressed too and follow him into the water. I welcome the water as it crawls up my legs and swallows me up. All the troubles of the day disappear.

  After our swim, we sit on one of the boulders to rest. The moon seems huge hanging in the sky so near the earth. It makes the water and surrounding woods look all romantic and as bright as midday—but with shadows lingering everywhere. I don’t want to think about anything except Channing’s answer tonight. My heart is bursting with anticipation to hear what he has to say for himself. My heart tugs at my throat with hope that everything will turn out for the best. I want him to tell me everything’s going to be alright. I can’t end up on the losing side again. I look up at the sky, smiling—it’s full of stars.

  Channing’s hand finds mine and our eyes meet. My heart skips with an electric charge I can’t explain. I feel like a different person—mysterious but in a special way. His eyes shine with the pale glow of the moon. I’m in a daze. What’s happening to me.

  “You need to listen carefully and be open minded. There are creatures in this world besides animals and humans. Creatures that don’t fit in a mold. Creatures that can’t help what they are, only how they live. I’m one of those. And…I think you probably already guessed.”

  He watches my reaction. I feel his tension as his eyes search my own.

  “I’m a Lycan, Tala—a wolf shifter, bound to the land by my birthright. But I’m not the same as the others. My blood type makes me a Shadow wolf—a shifter that draws superpower from the moon, especially, the seasonal moons. I was banished from my pack for not following the pack traditions. Now there’s a rumor going around among the shifters that my mate will soon arrive in town.”

  I listen as he talks, but I feel like I’m having an out of body experience. Or inside someone else’s mind. Like what I’m hearing is, unreal...a nightmare.

  “That’s why the rare-breed wolves killed the two female tourists. The sensed their blood type. They want to make sure that I never meet a Rhnull mate or rear offspring. They’re afraid our bloodline could exterminate them for good.”

  I swallow. My mind feels numb with unbelief. I recall a nurse talking secretly with the doctor about my blood type, that it was—Rhnull. Channing’s is the same—that must be what he means when he talks about our bloodlines mixing. That has to be the key. Our offspring would have superpowers. But thinking about the killings, I don’t want to discuss it now. “What about the innocents that are being slaughtered? Rare-breed wolves should be stopped before someone else is killed.”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to do by myself...and that’s why I need you to join me. Together, we could put an end to this. The killings have nothing to do with the color red—it’s all about blood.”

  I nod, but I fear he has lost his ever-loving mind.

  Channing keeps talking. “The rare-breed wolves just don’t understand, I have already met her. She works in my station.” I cringe. He’s looking dead at me.

  I stare at him like he’s flipped. “Will Channing, I’m not a savior...or a wolf!”

  He gets defensive. “Tala, if you’ll just hear me out for once.” He reminds me of all the little things I do that suggest it may be true. “Eating raw meat, fighting a pack of wolves by yourself. No normal person can do that,” he insists. “Shoot, a normal rare-breed can’t fight off a whole pack of wolf shifters—but you can.”

  I shake my head, not wanting to hear or believe anything he says. But I recall every incident, and deep down inside, I know he’s right. Still, I refuse to accept it. “I like my meat rare. And when I’m cornered, I fight. It’s simple. No other reason.”

  After listening to all my partner has to say, I am forced to acknowledge what he said to me about the wolves but not the rest of it. It’s too crazy to be true. I swallow. “There’s no way. It doesn’t ring true.” It can’t be true. “I’m your mate? Do you hear yourself? Do you know how crazy you sound?” I whisper slowly.

  We both feel the pull between us, the invisible bond that has been pulling us together all along. The moon has followed us to his cabin, taking long strides through the trees, crossing through the woods like a giant shadow over the lake. It peers down to the lake as a spray of showers begin to sprinkle the water, causing it to erupt into a mirror of shivers. I feel Channing’s arm fall around my shoulders. We breathe in the fresh scent and cuddle as a warm shower wets the rock beneath us. We sit quietly watch as the sh
adow moon creeps across the sky followed by long trails of darkness—shadows that grow from the mountains and trees. Then the moment is interrupted. Somewhere across the lake the howling of wolves, breaks the silence—firing up the night with danger. We grab our clothing and head back down the path as the sprinkles become a storm.

  Inside the cabin, Channing grabs a blanket for me and motions me to the rug in front of the fireplace. Then he finds some cold beer and pizza. I’m famished. We eat while waiting for the storm to pass. Then, out of the blue, he disappears through a doorway and comes back smiling. I wonder what’s up. “Give me your hand,” he says, his eyes glistening from the firelight.

  “Why?” I ask, catching my breath for fear he’s going to propose.

  “C’mon,” he insists, “Just humor me for once.”

  I reach my hand toward him anticipating his next move. He takes my hand and slides a ring on my finger—a beautiful one.

  Channing tilts his head, looking very serious. “Don’t worry, it isn’t an engagement ring or anything—no strings attached if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “What’s this for then? Here’s the thing…I’m not ready for any kind of commitment. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

  He crouches near me. “This ring will keep you safe. I made it for you myself.”

  I twist my lips questioningly. “The stone looks like the one on your chain?”

  Channing touches the stone at the end of his chain—it looks smaller now. “It is. When Grandfather gave this to me, he said it was clear quartz and would give me strength—and it has. Before, I was forced to turn every time there was a full moon, but now I don’t turn unless I want to. You’ve been lucky so far, but that luck won’t hold forever. You’re twenty-one now and won’t be able to resist much longer. The next time the moon grows strong it will pull you into the curse—and you’ll turn. You better be glad you haven’t turned yet—it hurts like hell. Now you don’t have to—it’s your choice.”