by T. S. Ryder
“I am bleeding,” she says.
“I’m sorry,” I say, planting a kiss on her forehead.
“It’s okay.” We start walking back naked. There seems to be no point in putting on the wet clothes now. She takes six steps and stops. “Harrod, I can’t walk. It hurts.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll carry you.”
“My clothes are wet. What are we gonna do?”
“Walk back naked,” I say with a grin.
“What if someone sees us?”
I scoop her up in my arms and carry her back. “Who cares?”
When we reach the stairs, I put her back on her feet. We run back inside, laughing, soaking wet, dripping on the carpet all the way until we reach my bedroom. I follow her into the shower but she tells me she wants to shower alone so I leave her and fill the Jacuzzi instead. I lie back in the hot water, picturing her washing herself. I wonder how she feels. She steps out of the shower, a towel wrapped around, her curly, wet hair falling to her side. She sits on the side of the Jacuzzi and tests the water with her finger.
“This is nice and warm,” she says.
“You’re welcome to join. We can do it all over again.” I’m getting hard again already.
She shakes her head. “I don’t think I can do it again for a month.”
“Come on in,” I say, grabbing her arm. She squeals as I pull her in.
“No sex,” she says.
“Okay,” I say. She’s back on my lap again, my hard cock pressing into her back. “Let’s just have this bath together.” I massage her supple, tired body.
“That was incredible,” she says.
“If it was then why don’t you want to do it again?”
“I do, of course. I just…not right now. I’m really sore.” I massage her pussy softly with my fingers. I can already feel that it’s not as tight as it was moments ago. “You’re a cool guy,” she throws in as an afterthought.
We get out of the bath. “I don’t have any clothes for you,” I say. “But Gabe will have them washed and clean by the time you wake up. Until then, you are sleeping with me, naked.”
“That sounds nice,” she says.
Once we get in bed, we make out for a while. I want to take her from behind, slap her full ass-cheeks as I bury myself inside her, but I know she isn’t up for it. Then I remember coming inside her.
“Sorry I came inside you, but you wrapped your legs around me. I couldn’t pull out.”
“It’s fine,” she says dismissively. “I’ve read stuff. Nothing happens if you don’t wear a condom once.”
I wake up before she does in the morning, with morning wood. I haven’t desired a woman so much ever before, but then no woman has ever said no to me. She hasn’t really turned me down, though. I understand why she can’t fuck again just yet.
Gabe takes our clothes to the laundry, and we head down to the dining room for breakfast in towels. The towel is too small for her, and half her cleavage is already hanging out. It keeps falling off until she finally throws it aside.
We wait until she gets her clothes back, lying on the sofa, whispering sweet nothings to each other. She leaves soon after her clothes are returned from the laundry.
“It was really nice, Harrod.”
“What was?” I ask.
She blushes. “You know what. All of it.”
“Likewise.”
“So, I’ll…see you around?” she wagers.
“You bet you will.”
Chapter Seven - The Reunion
Harrod
When my dad returns from work that night, he calls me into his room.
“Harrod,” he begins. “Have you given any thought to what we talked about the other day?”
“I thought it was a dream, or that you were joking,” I say.
“Tell me, Harrod,” he says in an ominous tone. “In all the time you have known me, do I come across as a person who jokes or fucks around with people?”
I shake my head.
“Then why would I joke about who we are?”
“It’s just hard to believe, to take in all this supernatural stuff just because you say so.”
“Very well,” he says. “You will head to the farmlands tomorrow. I’ll let Grandpa know you’re coming. I am sure you’ll be excited to see your brother. The next full moon is not for another three weeks. You will have plenty of time to understand and get used to things. As you have implied, you will believe things when you see them.”
“You can’t be serious,” I say. I have always wanted to go to the farmlands, but my dad has never allowed me. Now that I can actually go, I’m not sure whether I’m excited or not.
“I am. I’ll send in your clearance early. You leave at noon tomorrow. It’s best to get there while the sun is out. Pack your things.”
“Okay,” I say, excited.
Around 11:30 the next day, Gabe knocks on my door. “Sir, the jet will be ready to depart in half an hour. I have already loaded your bags.”
I walk down the stairs and across the gardens to the runway. The heat is radiating from the dark asphalt, as though there’s water boiling underneath. After the security swipe, the officers clear me to go. I hop on board and prepare for a reunion with my brother. I wonder what he’ll be like, how tall he’ll be, whether he’ll have missed me, what his personality will be like, etc.
I fall asleep soon after take-off. When I wake up, I head to the pilot’s cabin.
“Drew? I didn't know you could fly planes.”
“It’s how your father prefers it,” he says.
“And why is there no hostess on board?”
“Your father’s instructions.”
“Weird,” I say.
“Oh, you have no idea,” he says savagely. “Enjoy the view,” he says. “We’re almost there.”
I go back to my seat and open the shutter. All I see down below are snow-capped mountains and jumbo trees. If I didn’t know better, I’d wager we were in the Swiss Alps, but it takes a lot longer to get there, so I know we’re still in the States.
“Buckle up,” says Drew, over the speakers. “It’s gonna get bumpy.”
We land on a small runway in a clearing. Drew opens the door and ushers me out. “I have to head back. They’ll be here soon.”
“Who will be here?” I ask. “Where am I, Drew? There’s nothing here.”
“Your Grandpa has been alerted of your arrival. He’ll come pick you up.”
Drew unloads my luggage and leaves it a little off the runway, then gets back into the plane, nods to me and closes the door. I watch as he turns the plane around, taxis and flies off, disappearing into the clouds. Then I look around. The runway is just a small patch of road that leads nowhere. There are no roads or buildings around. I am standing in a forest on a mountain surrounded by trees. The trees look familiar, like the giant ones I saw in my dreams, but the place is different.
“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 sanity, 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?”