by Ava Walsh
“Hello,” I holler into the emptiness around me. “Is there anyone here?”
There’s a rustling in the trees and the distant howl of a wolf.
“Grandpa,” I shout again, the word tasting strange in my mouth. I can’t really remember the last time I talked to him or saw him. I’d probably seen him back when Harrison was with us. I almost want to run into the woods, out of the clearing, but I stay where I am. I pull out my phone to call my dad but there’s no service here.
Then I hear more howls, closer this time, more terrifying. I take a step back and look around, looking for some tree to climb up in case wild animals attack. In the distance, I see two figures approaching. I can’t tell whether they’re human or not. The white clouds are close to the ground, reducing the visibility.
A man with white hair approaches, with a woman who seems to be in her early forties.
“Harrod,” he shouts, arms opening wide.
“Grandpa?”
“It’s been so long,” he says, hugging me tightly. He’s surprisingly strong for his age. “Oh, boy, I have waited for this for so long.” He kisses me on the cheek, and I pull back.
“How are you?”
“I must be a stranger to you,” he says. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me. You sound so formal.”
“That’s natural,” I say. “You just disappeared from my life.”
“You’ll learn we aren’t big on formalities here, boy.” Then he looks at the woman standing next to him. “This is Mishayev. She’ll be your guide and trainer here and will see to all your needs.”
Mishayev smiles and shakes my hand firmly. Her hair is a mix of gray and black streaks, and I can’t tell whether it is white with black streaks or the other way around. She looks intimidating.
“Let’s head back to the village,” he says. “It’s gonna any time now.”
There’s nothing to guide us, no landmarks, no signs, not even a trail. But Grandpa and Mishayev seem to know their way and go through the woods like expert navigators, toward what they call The Den.
When I hear the word Den, all I can think of is stone caves, like the ones I’d seen in The Jungle Book. After fifteen minutes of ambling through the woods, we reach a large fence, thick as prison bars, with two guys wearing fur coats standing guard inside. They let us in and Grandpa turns to me.
“So, first things first. Stay away from the fences, they are high voltage. We aren’t immune to electricity. Don’t go outside without talking to me first. Our Den is vast, so you won’t have to go out. There’s nothing for you outside anyway. You are safe only as long as you are inside the fenced boundary.”
“Okay.”
The trees inside the fence are sparse, taller and mostly crooked, forming a roof over the clearing. There are wooden cabins here and there, with smoke emitting from the chimneys. A large fireplace is set in what seems like a sitting area, and a few guys sitting around the fire drinking. There’s a deer suspended above the fire on a stick to cook.
There’s a great hustle bustle all around, with some children running wild and playing. But my eyes fix on a guy walking towards us. The hairs on my arms stick up as if I’ve been electrocuted as he comes closer. I look into his eyes. There’s something about them, something familiar. My soul trembles when I see him and tears well up in my eyes. It’s as if I’m getting something that I never even knew I longed for.
He’s the same height as me. He’s wearing a fur coat, which looks as though he made it himself. He picks up the pace when he sees me and jogs toward us. Unlike the movies, nothing dramatic happens. He looks at my grandpa with innocent eyes.
“Grandpa, I don’t really—” I begin.
“Grandpa?” the guy says, a look of surprise and shock on his face. His mouth moves but no words come out, as his eyes fix on me.
It’s got to be him. I know it is him. Tears are running down my cheeks.
“Harrison?”
Chapter Eight - The Training
Harrod
In the days that follow, Harrison and Grandpa familiarize me with the area, the family history and, yes, werewolves. Harrison and I catch up on each other’s lives. There is a slight awkwardness between us, but there is a force that draws us to each other. The brotherly bond we have, it seems, never died or broke. Cellphones don’t work here, but there is a landline. I talk to Siobhan almost every night. It seems like things are going somewhere. She wants to meet and asks me where I am, but I just tell her I am visiting my Grandpa. I never pictured myself living in a forest, but now that I’m here it’s not so bad. I just wish Siobhan could be here. During my second week, when we sit by the fire, my Grandpa tells me that I’m a late bloomer, but it is time for me to unleash the inner wolf. Somehow, in spite of everything, I don’t really believe any of this.
“So, Harrod,” says Grandpa, as we sit by the fire and roast the day’s game. “Are you still having those dreams?”
“It’s funny,” I say. “I almost forgot about those. I haven’t had any since coming here.”
He nods thoughtfully. “You are where you are supposed to be.”
“Time to show him,” says Harrison.
“He needs time,” says Grandpa.
But Harrison gets up, doffs his clothes and stands naked before us.
“What are you doing?” I ask. No one around the fire is surprised by him getting naked. They all act like it’s normal.
Then Harrison starts jerking, bending out of shape, his limbs twisting at unnatural angles. He yowls, but ten seconds later he has transformed into a wolf. I am gobsmacked. I look at Grandpa, at everyone around me, and no one finds this weird.
“Harrison, you are freaking me out,” I say, in a panicked voice.
Grandpa pats me on the shoulder, and then he follows my brother’s lead. One by one they all shift and I am surrounded by wolves. I look up at the sky, at the thin moon. It is like Déjà vu, exactly like my dreams, except that the full moon is missing. Mishayev comes out from behind a tree and tells me that it is time to start my training.
“Everything will be easy, boy,” she says. “The only part that’s going to suck, and you know that I don’t exaggerate things, will be the first shifting.”
“As in?”
“As in, come full moon you will shift into a werewolf. None of us can keep ourselves from shifting during a full moon. Why do you think your dad comes here every full moon?”
“To hunt,” I say. “It’s just once a month, randomly. He never said anything about the full moon.”
“The full moon doesn’t follow your calendar dates. Anyway, even a person as strong as your father can’t resist it. You will be coming with him from now on.”
“Do all werewolves have to be here every full moon?”
“No, they don’t,” she replies politely. She thinks for a moment. “But after what happened with Harrison and your mother, we believe it is for the best if they are.”
“What happened that night?”
“Your father used to lock himself in his study during full moons. Your mother had a spare key because she was working on renovating the study.”
“Then?”
“This one night she had forgotten something in there. She unlocked the door and there he was, shifting. Your brother was in her arms. They saw the whole thing, the complete shift from man to wolf. She lost it after that. We tried to talk some sense into her, but she was hell-bent on getting the word out. But then she lost it completely.”
“Why did you take Harrison?”
“Harrison was young. Your Grandpa believed that we could prevent serious trauma by bringing him here. Instead of traumatizing him, it would just open a door into a new dimension. I can remember the time when he came here, he was so quiet and meek. Look at him now! It’s worked out well. She-wolves throw themselves at him.”
“This is too just too much,” I say, and walk off into the woods. I find a quiet place near the fence boundary and look outside, into the forest. It feels like I am losing my sanit
y, and I wish Siobhan were here. In the last two weeks, we have only been able to talk on the landline, and boring as it may sound, we have connected. Our ideas about life are similar, and although I’ve never thought about marriage before, I believe that if I ever tie the knot, it will be with her. She gets me. She was raised in a similar environment to me.
There’s a rustle in the bushes. I turn around and see a wolf staring at me with his bright, yellow eyes, fangs bared. I know better than to be scared of it, but it is intimidating. It lurches forward to attack me, but shifts into Harrison.
“You scared me, man!” I pant, my heart pounding. “Why did you try to attack me?”
“I didn’t,” he says, grinning. “When shifting back, we just lurch forward like that.”
“Weird,” I say. “How did you find me?”
“I smelled you,” he says. “Your scent is new here, alien. Anybody can smell and track you anywhere on this entire mountain.”
“Right…”
“Come with me,” he says.
“Where?”
“I want to show you something.”
I follow him through the trees and the thorn bushes. There are paths inside the fence, covered with dirt and foliage. After slipping and crawling through this mountainous terrain, we come out on a lake. It looks ominous. The water is dark and still, and the visibility lower than other areas because of a thick fog. Large rocks and boulders surround half of the lake.
“This is where I used to hide when I was new here,” Harrison says.
“This looks dangerous.”
“You should come here during the day,” he says. “It’s an excellent spot for basking in the sun. We all come here to relax. This is also where the Alphas used to mate.”
“Alphas?”
“Leaders of our pack.”
“You mean Grandpa comes here?”
“Grandpa isn’t the Alpha. Father was, but he never came here to mate, because mom didn’t know about any of this.”
“Who’s the Alpha now?” I ask.
“I am,” he says, grinning. “After your training is complete, you will become the new Alpha.”
“Oh no, I don’t want to—”
“You have to,” he says. “During your first fight, you will challenge me. And since I have to train you in fighting, you will sure as shit beat me.”
“I’d rather not,” I say.
“You don’t have a choice. If you don’t challenge me, they’ll think of you as a weakling. If you lose, same results. Grandpa says we have to establish authority or the wolves start acting out.”
Another wolf comes out from the trees.
“Who’s this?” I ask.
“Mishayev,” Harrison says.
She lurches forward and, like Harrison, shifts into herself.
“Listen,” Harrison says to me. “Grandpa wants to train you slowly. He thinks you can’t handle it. But I know you, and I know you can. We want to speed up your training. Trust us, okay?”
“Okay,” I say.
“Now, when you shift, don’t hurt either of us. We are both stronger than you think, and we’ll strike back. We won’t hold back.”
“What?”
“Once you shift,” he says, “remember not to let the wolf take over. Think of me, mom, dad, whoever.”
Mishayev throws a small stone at me, which hits me hard.
“Hey, what was that for?”
“Shift,” she says.
“How?”
Harrison throws another, hitting me on the forehead.
“This isn’t funny, guys. Stop it.”
“Shift,” she says, kicking me off my feet.
I fall to the ground. “Okay, stop it. You’re pissing me off now.”
“Shift,” he says, striking me with a stick.
“Fucking tell me how to shift.”
“Shift,” she hits me in the head.
“Shift,” he kicks me in the stomach.
“This is infuriating,” I shout. I get up to punch Harrison, but he dodges me easily and kicks me in the shins.
“Shift,” Mishayev shouts again, tearing my shirt off and scratching my chest.
“Fucking bitch, stop it. Fuck off, both of you. Get away.”
“Shift,” she says, throwing a fistful of sand into my face.
My eyes water and shut reflexively. I can’t see anything. I am panting now. All I hear is ‘Shift,’ and then I am being hit. The word ‘shift’ spins in front of my vision, rings in my ears, bounces in the darkness of my head. “Shift! Shift! Shift!”
My heart beats faster, like in the dreams. I can sense someone shift. They bite my wrist, and blood oozes out. Anger rises up inside me, pulsing in my brain. I clench my fists tightly.
“Shift.”
I try to get up, get kicked, fall.
“Shift.”
The anger takes over. I think I am having a heart attack. I start moaning, my chest tightens, my lungs don’t have enough air.
“Shift.”
I am in pain. I shout, scream, whimper, moan, shout again, scream again.
“Shift.” Another blow. Fuck, these assholes need to—
I scream like a bitch as my arms twist and bend backward. My mouth feels strange, swollen. I can’t speak. I hear them in my mind. “Shift. Shift. Shift.” My heart pounds in my ears, “Dhub, dhuk, dhub, dhuk, dhub.” I hear another heartbeat and another. What’s happening?
“Shift.”
Fuck this.
I get on all fours and look around. The sand has cleared and I can see better now, better than I could before, as though I am wearing night vision goggles. She’s on the left, standing still. He’s standing on the right, looking at me. I turn to him, run on all fours, and pounce. He dodges and grabs me by the paws. His lips move, but I ignore him. I want to get back at him for hitting me. She grabs me from the back, pulling hard on my fur, then spins me around and hurtles me into the water.
I run back, ready to attack. She grabs me from behind again. He holds my muzzle, says something. What is he saying? He holds my what? Muzzle? What did he just say?
“Brother, come back. Harrod, focus. Remember. Take control.”
I stop. He pats me, pets me like a dog. Then they shift.
“You did well,” says Mishayev. I don’t say thank you. I am still furious.
We jump into the lake, swim, then they show me around. The dawn is breaking. The stench is unbearable. Mishayev calls it ‘scent’.
“You’ll get used to it,” she says.
We climb the boulders and rest there, drying ourselves off. I think of Siobhan. Tonight’s episode kept me from talking to her.
“We’ll continue the training tomorrow,” Harrison says.
We dry ourselves off and head back to our cabins. I wonder what Siobhan would say about all this if she ever found out.
Once everyone is gone, I sneak into Grandpa’s cabin.
“Grandpa,” I begin. “There’s this girl I’m seeing. I don’t know what will happen if she finds out about all this.”
“Son,” he replies. “It is preferable if we choose from our own kind. But, if we don’t, it is better to tell them, if they can be trusted. Your mother couldn’t be trusted, or your father would’ve tried to convert her.”
“Convert her? Into a werewolf?”
He laughs, and I realize I sound like a five-year-old. “Yes,” he says. “An Alpha’s bite can do that.”
We talk for a while as I learn more and more about my kind, then he goes out and I return to my cabin to sleep.
Chapter Nine - Lovesick
Siobhan
I am sick. With love. One night, that’s all it took. Perhaps it is lust, that desire for things we can’t have. Harrod disappeared the day after our night together. I am aching to see him again. I want to feel him feel me up again. I dream about him, about our night together. I don’t regret waiting this long to have sex, because losing my virginity to him was worth it. I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that I’ll never regret
it.
All that dribble aside, the love has actually made me sick. It has been two weeks since he left, and I am a mess already. I am sitting on the bed in my jammies, my hair messed up, a trash bin at my side. I have some bug and I am puking like hell as I wait for his call. I can’t wait anymore. I am going to tell him exactly how I feel.
Then the phone rings.
“Hey, sweetpea.”
“Hello,” I reply hoarsely.
“I missed you.”
“I missed you too, Harry.”
“Are you okay? You don’t sound so—” Another wave of nausea hits me and I puke ruthlessly.
“Sorry, I’m sick. Anyway, when are you coming back?”
“I think it will be another week before I can come back,” he says.
“Why did you have to go all of a sudden? We should have followed up with the second date. This is torture, Harry. I need you.”
“Listen,” he says tentatively. “There’s something you need to know.”
“I’m listening,” I say.
“I can’t tell you over the phone. I…I need to show you something. I just don’t know…it’s complicated.”
“Well, tell me where you are and I’ll come over.”
“No, you’re unwell. Go see a doctor, get well, and then we’ll talk about it.”
“Harry,” I begin. I need to tell him how I feel. I can’t bottle these feelings inside for long. “Don’t freak out, okay?”
“Okay, what is it?”
“I think I am in love with you.”
“That’s a relief,” he says with phew. “I thought you were gonna say, ‘I’m pregnant’.”
“Is it too soon to say it?”
“Siobhan, I think about you all the time. I believe in taking things slowly, but the way I feel for you, if it isn’t love already, I don’t know what is.”