Masked SheWolf

by Yara Gharios

  She pauses hesitantly, and I start to sense victory. "I don't even know if I like you," she points out.

  I grin. "Don't worry, you'll learn to love me."

  At last, I see amusement flicker across her face, even though she's rolling her eyes. She doesn't immediately answer. She just stares at me for a moment with a contemplative look while I keep smiling encouragingly. I haven't been on a proper date in a while, and after putting aside my shitty attitude and realizing I might actually be interested in Zoey if I get to know her, I'm actually looking forward to taking her out.

  Finally, she gives in and sighs. "Fine," she relents. "But nobody can know, especially not our families. I don't want mine to know about John yet, and I am not ready for their meddling if they hear the word 'date'."

  "I can live with that," I easily agree.

  "And I won't say a word about your brother," she swears.

  I smile, grateful not only for her promise, but that she also called him my 'brother'. "Thanks."

  She nods back with a tentative smile of her own. I can tell she's already warming up to me. But then we stand in silence for a moment that stretches us into awkwardness.

  "You can... let go of my hands now," she finally says.

  That's when I realize I'm still holding both of them and immediately let go. "Right, sorry."

  She rubs them together once, and holds them one over the other the way she did a while ago. "So, when are, uh, we meeting up? And where?"

  And just like that, I am once again comfortable. "I have your number," I remind her with a smile. "I'll call you."

  She narrows her eyes suspiciously. "Is that one of those guy things where you say you'll call but you really won't?"

  "No, I promise," I reply honestly. "I will call you."

  "You could just be saying all this so that I stay quiet about your brother," she goes on, but this time I detect humor.

  I grin and begin to walk back to the campsite. "Try me then," I challenge playfully. "If I haven't called you to ask you out within next weekend, you can threaten me again."

  She smiles brighter than ever. "Alright, you're on."

  Chapter 13

  Michael

  Music has been a part of my life for years. From a very young age, I could play the piano just as well as I could sing. But my passion for music didn't develop until I was fourteen. Since then, music has become the same thing as breathing for me.

  What happened was that I watched a live performance at a local café of an amateur musician playing one of my favorite piano pieces on the acoustic guitar. I don't remember his name, but I do remember him saying that he'd been teaching himself to play for over a year, and that that was his first performance in front of a crowd. When he played the first note, I was hypnotized.

  His fingers moved effortlessly over the strings. From the moment he started playing, he was perfect. His performance was immensely flawed, obviously, but his talent and love for music radiated off him in waves and had the entire crowd, including and especially me, mesmerized. My heart was soaring and my eyes were wide as they followed every gesture of his fingers in complete rapture. His movements were hesitant and somewhat nervous, but they flowed over the strings like velvet rope.

  I watched him like a star-struck fan girl. He made me fall in love for the first and only time in my life. I was in love with him, with his music, with his instrument, with his talented fingers, with everything about him and his performance. I couldn't even clap when he was done because I was still soaring with wonder, and I didn't realize he had stopped until he was taking a bow and going offstage.

  I lift my pen and bring the tip of it up to my mouth, biting on it as I re-read what I've written under the question "Explain in one page why you chose your major."

  All application forms I might send ask the same question in one way or another, and I will write the same answer for all of them. I've been locked in my room since morning filling out application forms, because I don't want my family to catch me, and I've just finished the last one.

  I've decided long ago not to tempt fate and will only apply for a couple of universities; NEC and Berklee. Secretly, I'm hoping for Berklee, but I would be lucky to go to either one. They're not far from each other and they're both about three hours away from home. The closeness is basically my strongest argument against my parents. I just hope that when the day comes and I tell them, they'll have an open mind, and possibly even an acceptance letter in their hands to sway them.

  When Danny calls me down for lunch, I hastily put everything in two envelopes, one for each college, and tuck them under my bed. I'm going to have to find an excuse to get out of the house later so I can go to the post office and mail them. I can't take the risk of putting them in our mailbox, or else my parents might find out, and it's not the time for that yet.

  When Danny mentions SMP's bonfire camp, my excuse practically makes itself up. Two hours later, my applications have been sent, and I've got a new olive-colored tent and matching sleeping bag tucked under my arm as I walk home. Then, we meet up and leave together.

  The campsite is big but cozy, and it's filled with families from SMP. When I find the Creeds, I walk over to Sadie and her father building their tents first. They're both concentrating very hard on their task, but they communicate with an ease that I envy a little bit.

  Her little brother Zack looks like he might have tried to help, but all he's doing now is wave the sticks around with his mother like they're swords. The two of them are laughing away. I can hear Zack's childish giggle from all the way at the edge of the clearing. Zoey is sitting beside them on a folded chair, watching them wordlessly without her cell phone in hand. There's a nervous energy about her stance, but I can swear I see a smile fighting to break free across her face.

  It's almost cruel of me to interrupt this nice moment, but I know my brothers will have started working on our tents and I don't want to have to help them, so I slip away. Zack is the first to see me, and he squeals, "Michael!" and starts running to me.

  Oh no, I panic. Is he expecting me to pick him up?

  Fortunately, all he does is grab my hand and start dragging me toward them.

  "Look, Michael! I'm winning in a sword fight!" he informs me enthusiastically.

  "I can see that," I tell him, calmly following him.

  "Hello Michael. Nice to see you again," Sadie's mom greets me with a smile.

  I return it hesitantly. "Nice to see you guys again, too."

  "Want to help us with our tents, Dyl?" Sadie asks me.

  I chuckle. "I just left my brothers so that they don't ask me that question."

  Zoey perks up. "They're here?"

  I point them out to her and she immediately stands up to go over there. I watch her greet them awkwardly and try to strike up conversation with my twin, who is too focused on the tent to concentrate on her.

  "Hey," I hear and turn around.

  Logan and Cade have joined Sadie's family. Cade is helping them, so it must have been Logan who said 'Hey'.

  "Uh, hi," I say back.

  "Glad you guys could make it."

  "Wouldn't miss it."

  Silence fills the air. Well, at least, between me and him; the rest of the pack members are abuzz with conversation. The awkwardness is almost palpable.

  "Do you want to help start the fire?" he suddenly asks.

  Taken aback, I blink a couple of times. "It's not dark yet," I note.

  "It will be in less than an hour."

  After a moment, I shrug. "Okay."

  Logan's camping skills must have been better than mine, because by the time the fire is in full blaze, the sun is starting to disappear behind the trees, and the light is kind of necessary at that point. Next thing I know, people are gathering around the fire, leaning or sitting on the logs laid there. The way that they all come practically at the same time makes me think like I'm missing something. I take a seat next to Sadie to get some answers.

  "What's going on?" I whisper. The crac
kling of the fire and the hum of conversation is enough to cover my voice from strong werewolf hearing.

  "It's story time," she whispers back.

  My eyebrow shoots up. "Story time?"

  "We always tell stories around the campfire when we do this. You know, old legends and ancestors stories, stuff like that."

  "Who's telling the one first?"

  She nudges her chin towards a middle-aged man with a short black beard, a bald head and a size so big even by werewolf standards. "Logan's uncle Cliff, Reena's father," she tells me.

  My jaw drops and I gasp. "Reena is Logan's cousin?!" I hiss.

  "Technically, no," she reminds me. "Adopted, remember?"

  "But-" I stutter, unable to find words to express my shock. "But that's-"

  "It's not as weird as you think," she assures me.

  It is, actually.

  However this isn't important right now, and it's not my business anyway, so I let it go and pay attention to the man about to tell the story. He waits a bit until it's completely dark and then everyone pays attention. Even the humans seem interested in hearing this.

  "Before the pandemic," he begins, "our people lived differently than we do now. In those times, female werewolves were born just like males, and they were just as numerous."

  The subject of the story takes me a bit by surprise, and I exchange glances with my brothers. They send me reassuring looks. There's nothing dangerous about campfire stories.

  Logan's uncle continues telling the story. "Back then, our ancestors didn't have a choice in who their mate is; it was already predestined. Every male and female had their own other half, a mate in the real sense of the word, a true mate. They would find each other once they laid eyes on the other's wolf. A connection would form between them the closer they got, a connection through which they can sense each other in ways no other can. They could hear each other's thoughts and feel the other's emotions. Sometimes, when it was particularly strong, they would start seeing the world through the other one's eyes. There was nothing stronger the mate connection as proof that they belong together."

  The girls stare at him dreamily, although some have envious expressions on their faces. Even Sadie is listening to the story as if she's on cloud nine. Her hand is wrapped in Cade's, and her head is resting on his shoulder while his arm is draped over hers.

  "One of the last pair of mates known to our kind, Simon and Camellia, perhaps have the most inspiring history of all," the man goes on. "The pandemic had already started a dozen years before they found each other. There was panic all around the world among our kind, and packs were desperately searching for any female werewolf they could find to pair her off with her mate and hope they have daughters. When it started taking too long and failed anyways, the females were sought out directly for arranged or forced marriages. Every werewolf wanted to be the one who saved the race and kept his bloodline strong."

  He pauses a moment for dramatic effect. I have to admit that I'm no longer uncomfortable. It's actually kind of eye opening to listen to him. He's quite the storyteller.

  "It's around that time that Simon and Camellia found each other. They immediately went into hiding, knowing that the mate bond didn't mean anything to those who would want to take Camellia away from Simon. He fought many of his kind off to keep her safe. That's when our kind started to turn on each other. Those who had accepted the pandemic and began to mix among humans would welcome the pair into their homes when they were running. Until the day Camellia was successfully taken. She was moments away from being turned into a slave when Simon gathered whatever followers he could to help him and came to her rescue. Their bond was too strong for her kidnappers, and they conquered against their enemies.

  "A few years later, the pair was starting their own family and were recruiting those who helped them into a new pack that they formed. Their bloodline, the bloodline of their children, my ancestors, is the bloodline that started this pack. We are the pack that we are today because of them, because they are always a reminder of how unity is our kind's greatest gift. The mate bond may not exist anymore, but our mates are still just as important to us as ever, and they always will be."

  When he said that thing about unity, it kind of felt like he was talking to me, although I know it's not the case. It just reminded me of yesterday, when I asked Logan why he would invite us to join his pack, and how I found it strange that he responded coldly. Maybe it has something to do with unity, in a way, which triggers a sense of duty in Logan that he has toward not just his pack members, but his entire race as well.

  I turn to look at him and I find him deep in thought with an expression that I can't even begin to decipher.

  The next morning, I'm the first to wake up. The sun isn't even up yet when I open my eyes. Being here is making me restless, because I haven't shifted outdoors in a week. That can't be healthy for my wolf side. All night, I kept fidgeting. When I wake up, I'm all tangled in my sleeping bag. Try as I might, I can't fall back asleep now. I won't be able to until I release the pressure building inside me.

  Now that I'm awake, there's an itching feeling crawling all over my skin, begging me to shift. My watch says it's five am. If I'm quick and quiet, I can slip far enough away to shift without anyone noticing, and I might enjoy a few minutes to myself in wolf form. I hope I can slip past whoever is patrolling right now.

  As slowly as possible, I take a peek outside the tent's entrance. I'm not worried about waking up my twin; Daniel can sleep through an atomic bomb. It's the guy patrolling that I don't want to alert to my presence.

  One of Logan's guys is sitting by the fire about twenty feet away, feeding it just enough to keep himself warm and have enough light to see around him. It's extra difficult to sneak past someone whose hearing is ten times better than the average human, but I have had a lot of practice with my brothers, and I am confident I can do this.

  My hands are steady as I open the tent just enough for me to crawl out of it. I'm thankful that there are no leaves in the clearing or else the rustling would have made this much more difficult. Once I'm out, I keep my eyes on the guy's back as I push myself up into a crouching position. Then I take my time to retreat to the safety of the trees and bushes. It's amazing that I'm able to keep my focus when I am this edgy to shift. I check that he still isn't aware of my presence before I stand behind a tree.

  Just because he can't see me doesn't mean he won't hear me. My steps as I walk away are still careful and swift. Along the way, I keep my ears strained to detect any sound that he's coming after me. It's only when I'm far enough that I can't hear the activity at the campsite anymore that I take off running. The only thing I think about is which foot to place next.

  Twenty minutes later, I reach another clearing that's a bit closer to the edge of the forest, on the opposite side of the pack house. I stop to catch my breath and look around. Once my breathing is back to normal, I strain my ears and make sure that no one's close enough to hear me or see me. Then I strip and lay my clothes beneath a tree's roots and close my eyes, wanting to take my time shifting so I can revel in it.

  Heat sears through my body from the bottom of my spine to the top of my head, stretching across my limbs and growing a fifth one, a tail, along with it. My legs and arms shorten into the same length, as my hands and feet change into paws. I feel the fur growing on my skin, a sensation that is just like relieving an itch, and crouch just as my bones shrink and expand again into a different anatomy. My face feels distorted as my forehead gets pushed up and back. My mouth and nose mold together and grow into a snout, my teeth elongating with them, and my ears pull up and change shape.

  When the shift is complete, and the heat has dissipated from my body, I open my eyes. Everything looks sharper, brighter and more detailed. I can smell everything in the air as far as six miles around me, from the trees, to the dirt and even the trail of my own scent leading back to the campsite, which is too far for me to detect. I can also hear everything and see the details of things twic
e as far as my human eyes can perceive; about two miles. I know what my wolf body looks like without needing a reflection. My fur is pure white and my eyes have a blue-ish silver color.

  I let my wolf side take over and do whatever feels right; I run, I chase a couple of rabbits just for the thrill of it, I even chase my tail for a bit. At one point though, I have to stop myself from howling, because I know the others would definitely hear that. After about an hour, I simply lay on my stomach and rest a bit in wolf form, my tongue sticking out of my snout as I pant to catch my breath.

  As I'm just resting there, I suddenly detect a scent not very far from where I am. It's a werewolf scent. Alert, I lift my head, ears pointed up and listen. I turn my ears to get a wider hearing ranger, and wait. That's when I catch the sound of a twig breaking. And then I feel it; I am being watched from a distance.

  I don't think twice about it, I just take off running. I go to retrieve my clothes first, because I know I won't be able to get dressed until I'm absolutely sure it's safe to shift back into human form.

  I don't know where I'm running, but it doesn't make much of a difference. I'll be able to find my way back easily. I just need to get far enough away and as fast as possible so that I can become a human boy again before I am found. My heart is beating a mile a minute, both from the exertion and the fear.

  I'm so stupid!

  I shouldn't have gone shifting while a big group of werewolves is so near. It doesn't matter how early in the morning it was when I left; there's still a chance that at least one of them is an early shifter. One is all it takes to expose me and put me in danger. It was a terrible time to make poor decisions.

  I run and run until my lungs are about to explode, my four legs are burning and I am panting so hard that I feel like I can't go on anymore. I don't know how much time passes before I do stop, but that's only because I find a spot between a boulder and a tall tree where I can hide and change. In a matter of seconds, I am back in human form and hastily putting on all my clothes.

  If I truly was a guy, this would take ten seconds. A girl would have more clothing items that would be difficult to put on, but my disguise takes even more time. All the while, I still sniff the air and listen for someone approaching. Nobody comes, mercifully, but I don't immediately come out of my hiding place.