I saw the world in a way I had never seen it before. I saw scents all around me, swirling like mist. The musty breath of the wolf above me was a mix of loneliness, fear, and a fierce need to protect… To protect me.
It was hard to speak. The swirling potpourri of scents overwhelmed my senses; the strongest of all, from my own body. A heady mix of womanly desire and animal lust. I fought against it, but it was so hard. I wanted… I wanted… this animal that loomed above me.
I chewed my lip, and shifted position, spreading my legs just a little, to invite… No! What the hell was I thinking? It was a goddamn animal.
I fought to deny my own desires, and as I did so, the mist around me vanished, the circling wolves fading from view like a forgotten dream as my senses dulled, only to be replaced by a throbbing pain in my temple.
- X -
I was woozy and my head hurt, but I know what I saw. I can’t explain it, but I know I saw it.
We had been dragged outside and were lying in the dirt in front of the cabin. James lay on the ground. He looked like he was hurt pretty badly. The wolves circled him: four, maybe five.
And then, the big, white one stood up, and turned into a naked, old guy.
I say old. He had long, white hair, and his skin looked like parchment that had been left out in the sun for a few hundred years. But, he was still buff. Which was great and all... except that a few seconds ago, he had been a wolf.
I was still dreaming. I had to be. But, it didn’t feel like I was. For a start, my head hurt too much.
“Get up, Jimmy.”
The old man lashed out with his foot, catching James square in the ribs. I winced as he cried out in pain. It’s not like I knew James particularly well, but he didn’t strike me as the sort of man who cried out in pain lightly.
When I tried to make a move towards him, my vision swam. I heard a growl, and turned to find the snarling head of a wolf inches from mine. It’s breath stank of meat and decay and, in case I didn’t get the message, it growled again.
Don’t move. I got it.
“Get up, Jimmy, you fucking traitor, or I’ll give your fat bitch to the pack, while you watch, and then I’ll gut you, myself.”
James pulled himself to his feet and spat something thick and red onto the ground. That didn’t look good. That really didn’t look good.
“How dare you? How dare you take it upon yourself to trespass on my territory and hunt one of my boys? Is there any reason I shouldn’t rip your worthless, traitor heart out, right now?”
“Your boys?”
There was a distinct wheezing sound when Jimmy spoke. Something loose and rattling in his chest. He spat again. More blood on the ground at his feet.
“One of your boys took it upon themselves to wander off the reservation and have a little fun. She was sixteen. She was just a child.”
“Mountain lions. They’ll blame it on mountain lions. They always do. We’re hunters. We hunt. Sometimes, people get in the way.”
“You don’t fucking get it, do you Joseph? It’s not like that, anymore. They have satellites. They have DNA tests. They have a big computer that keeps track of us. They know where we are. They know who we are. We survive, because they let us survive, and if you can’t keep your pack in line, they send me to do your job for you.”
The old man laughed, and the wolves that prowled around us joined in, with a cacophony of growls and yelps.
“And what, then? Because there’s no way in hell I’m going to let a traitorous lapdog do my job for me. What happens when I send you back to them in pieces?” said the old man.
Jimmy slumped, as if all the fight had gone out of him.
“Then, they send the helicopters to rain down fire and death on your precious mountain, and burn your pack to the fucking ground. Remember California? They’ll blame it on wildfires. They always do.”
Jimmy’s words visibly stung the old man.
“I remember California, Jimmy. I remember how my daughter died in agony, while you stood by and watched. You could have come to me. You could have begged for forgiveness, and maybe, maybe you’d have found it. But instead, you went to work for them. The ones that did this. You might as well be pissing on her corpse. Every breath you take, shames every one of us. Every breath you take, should be your last.”
I saw James clench his fists, the muscles beneath his arms rippling unnaturally, as if they were about to explode.
“I’ll take care of Travis,” the old man continued. “He’s my problem, and I’ll deal with him the old way. And when I’m done, I’ll send your masters his pelt. They can wear him as a coat, for all I care.”
It was James’ turn to laugh.
“He’ll take you apart, old man. You’ll be dead, and your sorry excuse for a pack will be his. They’ll all die. Every bitch. Every pup. They’ll all die, because you were too proud to let me help.”
“You’ll save them? Like you saved your own pack? Like you saved my daughter? Go home, Jimmy. Go back to your masters with your tail between your legs. Roll over, and let them tickle your belly, like the dog you are. I’ll do what needs to be done. I’ll take care of Travis. You tell them that. And you tell them, that if I ever see your face on this mountain again, I’m going to tear it off.”
James turned to face me for a second. He didn’t look well. His face was pale, and specks of blood dotted his lips. Every time he breathed in, I could see him wince in pain.
“Sure, Jimmy. Take the human bitch with you. Take her back to that nice, comfy cabin, with its nice, comfy beds. Pretend you’re people for a while. But, if you're not off my mountain tomorrow... you’re both dead.”
James sunk to his knees, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. So much for tomorrow. I was pretty sure Jimmy wouldn’t last an hour, without some urgent medical attention.
“Oh, and Jimmy? I’m taking your bike. That’s a real nice bike.”
James didn’t resist, as Joseph dug around in his pocket and retrieved his keys. The wolves padded into the night, as the old man, still naked, kickstarted Jimmy’s bike, and drove off without looking back.
- X -
I put a hand to my head and winced in pain. There was no blood, but I was going to have a nasty bruise. I felt a little woozy, but didn’t think I was concussed. I pulled myself to my knees and crawled over to James, who had collapsed onto the ground.
The rise and fall of his chest indicated he was still alive, and I was surprised to hear that his breathing sounded a little clearer. As I approached, he pulled himself up, and turned to face me.
“Are you alright?”
“Am I alright? You sounded like you were dying, five minutes ago.”
He brought his hand to his chest and winced, as he probed at his ribs. Then, he grinned.
“I’m a tough cookie. I heal fast.”
“Sure. Whatever you say.”
I sat back down as I tried to process everything that had just happened.
“What the hell is going on? Who was that man? He was a wolf. A white wolf. That’s not possible. And the one from earlier? The black one. Was that this Travis guy, everyone was talking about?”
“You had a pretty hard knock, there. You’re probably seeing all sorts of stuff. He wasn’t a wolf. Just a crazy old man.”
It was a weak attempt at protest. He didn’t sound like he had the energy to convince himself, let alone me.
“I know what I saw. And what was with that dream? You were a wolf, too.”
“That… I can’t explain that. You shouldn’t have been there. You can’t go there. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“And, why was I naked?”
“That one’s on you. You choose your own form in the dream, and you chose to be naked.”
He was grinning again, and despite all that had just happened, I found myself blushing furiously.
“And, yeah… Yeah, I think they’re probably going to take the door out of your deposit.”
- X -
Chapter 6: Carrie
We supported each other as we made our way through the splintered door, and back into the cabin. James was looking healthier by the minute. He wasn’t kidding, when he said he healed fast.
“There’s probably a first aid kit in here, somewhere. I really have no idea what to do with a first aid kit, but it really feels like I should be doing something,” I said.
“I’m okay. Really. It probably looked worse than it was… and, like I said. I heal fast. I could do with a shower, though.”
Bullshit.
No one heals that fast. No one human, anyway.
“You’re like him, aren’t you? Like them. You’re a…”
I couldn’t say it. It was crazy, and I refused to say that word out loud.
“I’m like them, but I’m nothing like them. Right now, I’m tired, and I’m filthy, and I still have a lot to do. So first, I’m going to have a long, hot shower, and then we’re going to get you all packed up, and you’ll drive back down the mountain. Back to civilization, where you’ll be safe and sound, and you can forget you ever met me.”
He turned and headed towards the bedroom, and I just stood there, watching, as I tried to figure out if there was any way I could ever forget this man. Then I remembered that my suitcase was still open on the bed. My suitcase overflowing with tricks and treats for a dirty weekend. Sure, he’d already seen it, but it was still embarrassing, and I really didn’t want him to take a closer look.
It was too late. As I entered the room, he stood looking at the contents with a raised eyebrow and an infuriating smirk.
“Yeah, that’s uh… an interesting collection of… stuff, you’ve brought along. I can’t help wondering how you planned to, well… I mean the lingerie, sure,” he said, glancing at me, then back at the suitcase. “I guess sometimes, you just want to look… and, I’m sure you would. But, those handcuffs? Kind of kinky--and I’m down with that--but how were you planning on…”
He was teasing me, and I really wasn’t in the mood. I stormed over to the bed and clumsily closed the suitcase.
“I wasn’t planning on coming alone, okay? I wasn’t planning on it, but that’s how it ended up. I wasn’t planning on coming alone, but I did because my fiance, my ex-fiance, is an asshole, okay? And now you’re being an asshole. Maybe all men are assholes. I’ve yet to see much evidence to the contrary, except, I’m pretty sure you’re not a man. You’re not a man, and that scares the hell out of me. And you know what else scares the hell out of me?”
I didn’t give him a chance to reply. So much had happened, so fast, and I was scared and confused, and even though the tears were streaming down my face, I couldn’t stop.
“Crazy old men with their wangs hanging out scare me, and all this talk about California, and fires, and death scare me. And… and stupid dreams where everything smelled weird, and I wanted to get it on with a wolf. But that’s not the worst part.”
My breath was coming in gasping sobs now, as I struggled to get the words out.
“The worst part, is that I’m pretty sure you’ve got no plans to come back down the mountain with me. I don’t think you work that way. I think you’re going to get yourself killed by that old man, or by this Travis character, or any of those other freakishly large wolves that are sniffing around here. And when you do, a part of me is going to die with you. And that doesn’t make any sense, because I’ve only just met you, and to be honest, I’m not sure I even like you that much, and… and…”
I would have thought I was all cried out by now, but it was a flood. My face was a blotchy mess of tears as I struggled to speak in complete sentences. James wrapped his arms around me and held me tight, and his body was warm against mine; is big, strong arms reassuringly protective. He smelled of dirt and blood. He smelled familiar. He smelled as if I’d known him all my life.
I felt his heart beat. Slow and steady. His protective presence calmed me. I breathed slowly, as the tears dried up, and when I could speak again, I whispered to him.
“Even though I’ve only just met you, it feels like there's some kind of freaky bond between us, and I don’t want you to die, before I figure out what that means.”
He held me in silence for a few minutes more, the steady beating of his heart continuing to calm me, until I felt completely drained of all the fear and anger and confusion.
“Yeah, I know what you mean.”
He released me and turned to head for the shower.
“I feel it, too.”
- X -
I just want to be clear about something.
I like to think I’m a sexual person. I enjoy sex, and, as the contents of my suitcase might suggest, I’m up for a bit of an adventure. Mitch, on the other hand, was a missionary-man. He enjoyed it well, enough, but for him, sex was a means to an end, rather than some kind of uncharted territory, ripe for exploration. I tried to coax more out him, and this weekend was pretty much my last roll of the dice, in that respect.
Deep down inside, I wondered if he’d done me a favor by calling off the engagement. I thought he was everything I ever wanted, and we’d just work through our differences in this area, but ultimately, would I have been unhappy? Unfulfilled?
Despite the fact that I was trying to inject a little adventure into our lives, I wasn’t really the adventurous type, myself. I wanted to be, but most of the time, I was fairly uncomfortable in my own skin. It’s hard to put on seductive lingerie when you bought it online, from a store for plus-size women. To put it on, and stand there, in all your plus-size glory. It’s hard to find the courage to show off your body, when you’ve spent most of your life trying to hide it. It’s hard to put yourself on display, when you can’t count the number of times you’ve cried yourself to sleep, wishing you were someone else
I’m not trying to engineer a little Pity Party, here. I just need to make it clear that, while what happened next might not be a big deal for some people, it was for me.
When I stood alone in the bedroom and stripped out of my clothes, it was not something I did lightly. When I joined James in the shower, it took just about all the courage I could muster.
- X -
I hadn’t realized just how big he was. Not massive like some kind of bodybuilder. Just big. He leaned forward against the far wall of the shower, head bowed, as the water poured over his back. His shoulders were impossibly broad, like some kind of supporting beam, and off them, his arms and torso knotted with lean, dense muscle.
Fresh bruises, where Joseph had kicked him, were already fading, but there were other marks--older scars, that spoke of a life far removed from the safety and comfort I was used to. The most dramatic of these was a webbing of gnarled scar tissue that covered most of his right shoulder blade. He had been burned badly. He had mentioned fire. Something to do with California and helicopters. Was that where he had been burned?
I tentatively placed the palm of one hand against the mark. My splayed fingers didn’t even cover it. He didn’t respond. He didn’t even move.
I wanted to know more about him. I wanted to know what he was, and where he came from, but that could wait. Right now, I just wanted him to survive whatever it was he had planned. I wanted him to survive and return to me. I needed to give him a reason to come back. Perhaps, even a reason to live.
“You don’t have to be alone.”
He grunted, but didn’t reply.
“You don’t have to be alone right now.”
I placed my other hand on his other shoulder. The water, hot enough to make me gasp, ran in streams from his body to mine. I slid my hands downwards, slowly, feeling the shifting knots of muscle beneath the skin. As I reached the small of his back, he sighed, and I felt some of the tension leave him.
I returned to his shoulders and pressed a little firmer, as I made my way down his broad canvas of his back, this time, coming to rest at the top of his ass. His, frankly, quite magnificent ass. I had a moment of self-doubt. He was, for all his scars and smirks, an attractive man. He was so far out of my league
, it wasn’t funny. The rational part of me was already building walls, in preparation for the inevitable rejection, and yet, I still clung to the idea that there was something, some kind of connection between us, that went above and beyond the physical.
I stepped into him, crushing my breasts against the warm, broad expanse of his back, his ass against my soft tummy. The water ran off him and over my face and hair, but I ignored it, tilting my head, and resting it against his back. I wrapped my arms around him, my hands finding the thick, wiry hair that covered his chest.
My body responded to his proximity--my stubby nipples crinkling and hardening, as they pressed against him. My pulse began to race, but I kept my needs in check. I wanted this to be about him. I wanted to let him know he had something to live for, something to come back to. His breathing was slow and deep, my hands shifting on his chest each time his lungs filled with air. He didn’t speak, but he didn’t object to my presence, either.
I took a deep breath, my lips tight, to keep the water out, and slowly brought my hands down his body. His broad, hairy chest gave way to the compact muscles of a toned abdomen, before my hands came to rest against the top of his thighs. I could feel ridges there, where his obliques met his thighs.
I couldn’t resist a sigh. I have a thing about obliques. I mean beggars can’t be choosers, and all that. Mitch was kind-of in shape, but not defined like this, and I wasn’t really in a position to complain about that. But James had the sort of body I had always fantasized about. It was something I had thought would remain that way--a fantasy. That men who were in this kind of shape, preferred woman with a similar physique, that like attracted like.
I’d always found something sensual and seductive in the idea of a strong, male body, powerful and hard, against soft, womanly curves. It just… made sense to me. However, over time, I’d come to suspect this was just wishful thinking on my part, and that I was the only one who felt this way.
I nestled further into his shoulders and inched my hands slowly inwards, brushing an unruly mass of coarse pubic hair as I found his crotch. I grinned against him. I would have been surprised to find anything else. One of my fingers just barely touched his member. It felt… heavy. It felt heavy, and solid, and real. I parted my lips to allow a slight purr of desire to escape.
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