Saving Ellie (Lycans Book 1)

by Whitney R. B.

  How long will I be stuck here?

  My heart stutters as the lights flicker. In the uncertain light, I catch sight of the wolf. His glacier-eyes bright against his dark fur as he stares back at me.

  The lights shut off.

  The silence is deafening as I desperately try to get my eyes to adjust, but it’s so dark. I drop the rest of the granola bar onto the floor. I stumble toward where I hope the bed is. My leg slams against the bed frame and I fumble to get under the covers.

  My whole body shakes as memories flood back.

  I curl up into a ball.

  Please, no. I can’t have a panic attack right now. Not when a wolf lurks near.

  I squeeze my eyes shut as tears break through. The scars on my back start to ache. The metallic smell of blood burns my nose; I don’t think the scent ever left. I can almost hear his footsteps, the crack of the whip, whimpers that don’t sound like me but are.

  This place is the opposite of that room, but one little trigger and I’m gone. I cry and curl into myself as much as possible as my senses are overwhelmed. The memories won’t stop until I’m unconscious. Just like he never stopped until I was.

  “Happy birthday, Eleanor.” Marcus’ heavy footsteps are like thunder in my mind as he walks down the steps to the basement.

  I never told him my preferred name. He would ruin that, just like how he ruined my birthday.

  When he reaches the basement landing, his large frame dwarfs the space. “You must be what—sixteen now?” He grins, but it isn’t a kind smile. He glances behind me and frowns. “What are you doing here?”

  Will stands behind me. He came down to wish me a happy birthday, even though I told him it wasn’t a good idea. He isn’t supposed to talk to me, let alone see me.

  Will grabs my hand, and I turn to him. “Leave,” I whisper.

  He looks hurt, but what is he going to do against Marcus? He’s the same age as me. Marcus is so much stronger and larger.

  “Well?” His tone is sharp. Our foster father is losing his patience.

  “Please,” I beg Will. Tears building up, I don’t want him witnessing this. He suffers enough abuse as it is, even if it’s more subtle than mine.

  Instead of leaving, he shows a rare act of bravery that makes me sick to my stomach. Those never turn out well with Marcus.

  The will to fight, to live, to defend is something we both have in common, but I hide mine better so that I don’t get punished for it.

  Despite his hands shaking, Will’s voice comes out strong. “Leave her alone.”

  “What was that, little twerp?”

  He swallows but doesn’t back down. “I said, leave her alone.”

  Anger rises in Marcus’ eyes. He clenches his jaw as fists form at his side. His nostrils flare and a growl sounds in the back of his throat.

  “Will, I’ll be okay,” I say frantically, but it’s too late.

  Marcus grabs Will’s arm and throws him on the ground. There’s a crack when Will’s head hits. Marcus’ boot-clad feet hit Will’s stomach over and over. A scream leaves my mouth as I watch blood seep out from his head.

  “Get off him!” I grab Marcus’ arm, trying to make him stop, but he shakes me off and pushes me down instead.

  Blinking away black dots, I get back up on shaking legs and wrap my arms around Marcus’ waist, trying to pry him away. My scrawny arms shake from the strain. My dirty, chipped nails dig into him.

  “Stop!” I scream. Tears stream down my face as he kicks Will again.

  “Get off me, girl.” Marcus pries me off him, throws me on the ground, and begins to take his anger out on me. I rather it be me than Will.

  Staring at Will through blurry eyes, I pray that he’ll get up and leave, that he’ll make it out of here safe and sound, but more blood leaves his body. I stare and stare and stare some more, hoping he’ll open his eyes and move, but his blood continues to flow. Soon his chest stops moving and I know, I know he won’t ever open those golden-brown eyes again. Sobs rack through me at the realization while Marcus continues his onslaught.

  After what seems like forever, Marcus stops and nudges me onto my stomach.

  “Now, time for your present.”

  I tremble at the crack of the whip—

  The bed shifts, waking me up. I’m shivering and covered in sweat. I look to my side to find the wolf staring at me.

  In the bed.

  Yelping in surprise, I try to untangle myself from the sheets and almost fall off the bed in the process.

  He presses a paw to my shoulder.

  My eyes widen as they meet his glowing, glacier-blue ones.

  The wolf presses harder until I lie back down. He snuggles against my side.

  I’m frozen in place as he nuzzles my neck, and I catch his scent of fresh snow and pine. He smells like a sunny winter day back in Philly and snow days with my parents. Without even realizing it, I relax and stroke his ebony fur. The anxiety is no longer at the forefront of my mind. I used to dream of touching the clouds. I think if I could, this would be what it felt like. My hand digs deeper until I touch the warmth of his skin and begin tracing circles absentmindedly.

  My fingers freeze as a deep rumble in his chest begins. But just as fast it stops. He huffs, and I start back up and so does the growly rumble. A grin crosses my face. It’s not really a purr, but more like a happy hum.

  After a few minutes, I remove my hand and he lets out a small growl. I bite my lip to hold back a giggle as I continue once more. It’s strange—and enticing—that such a large beast would snuggle against me, let alone demand my touch.

  My eyes grow heavy as I listen to the rumble while stroking his fur. His warmth envelopes me, and it’s not long before I drift off to sleep, forgetting the horrors of the past, at least for tonight.

  I couldn’t leave her. We’ve been stuck in the barn for a week, but here I remain, completely entranced with this little human.

  Even though the snow is too deep for humans, it doesn’t bother me in this form. So why am I still here? Is it simply because I’m curious about her? Has she questioned why a wolf is hanging around?

  She’s been mostly quiet, keeping to herself, but she’s still intriguing. Everything I’d expect her to do, she does the opposite: to offer me food and water, allow me outside to relieve myself, but instead of locking me out, she keeps the door open. And I keep coming back.

  She digs into her large hiker backpack until she pulls out a small sketchbook, a charcoal pencil, and an eraser, then moves over to the table and sits down.

  “Alright, I’m going to need you to hold still.” She points at me with her pencil. “Or else I won’t be able to draw you adequately.”

  I huff in response, because I have no idea how else to communicate with her in this form, before obliging.

  “Huh, you really can understand me, can’t you?”

  I barely refrain from grinning.

  Her gaze travels to me on and off as her hand moves the pencil across the paper. It’s only been a few minutes when words trickle past her lips. “You know, I didn’t always draw.” She bites her lip as she grabs her eraser. “I picked up drawing when I went into the foster care system. It was something that helped me escape my new life.” She shrugs, lightly brushing the paper with the eraser, then sighs. “After my parents died, I was thrust from home to home for the first two years. Just after I turned thirteen, I was placed with Marcus and his wife.” A frown forms as she goes back to the pencil.

  I already have a bad feeling about where she’s going with this.

  “I remember being so excited to be in a home where I could get all the attention. Which did happen. But not in the way I’d hoped.” She laughs bitterly, and I bite back a growl. “No, definitely not how I’d hoped.”

  I can’t hold back a growl any longer.

  She jolts and looks at me. She blinks, shakes her head, and looks back down at her paper. “Anyway, I drew a lot, and the more I drew the better I got and the more I liked it. Even when I d
idn’t have paper. I would draw in the dust and dirt on the ground. It was the only escape I had.”

  I can’t sit anymore. Not when she’s talking about this and looking like that—broken, lost, and lonely. Is this what is haunting her?

  When she looks back up, her eyes widen when she finds me in front of her. She flinches as I lightly nudge her arm.

  “You weren’t supposed to move,” she whispers.

  My heart breaks as tears leave her eyes.

  She tentatively reaches up with one hand and touches her face, her lips parting in surprise when she finds her tears. She drops her pencil and furiously wipes her eyes and cheeks.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t even know I was crying.”

  A whine escapes from the back of my throat as I nuzzle her stomach. She’s so soft and small. She’s been through so much, but she’s still so strong. I wish there was more I could do to comfort her. I wish I could give her a hug.

  Her hands drop to my head and neck. “Thank you.”

  I lift my head then place my paws on the seat cushion to lean in. I bend my front legs as I cover her with my body, but I make sure to be careful not to place too much pressure on her. I tuck my head near her neck, trying my best to give her a hug in this form.

  My efforts are rewarded when her arms go around me, and her head buries into my neck. Her soft cries turn into sobs, and my soul aches with each little heartbreaking noise she makes.

  “Thank you,” she whimpers into my neck, and all I can do is offer this small comfort.

  I jump onto the bed to join the little human as she settles in to read her book, The Princess Bride. She’s been quiet since she cried on my shoulder yesterday. I’m not sure if that's a good or bad thing. It’s hard to get a read on her sometimes. I know with Russell it wouldn’t mean anything dire, just that he might need some time alone to think things over, while with Foster it would mean something else entirely. I’d need to force whatever is bothering him out to help him. Is she like either of them? Or maybe she’s somewhere in the middle?

  She opens the book to her bookmark, and I watch her enchanting eyes, gold with green specks, follow the words on the page as her full, pink lips silently move. I don’t think she has any other books because she’s grabbed the same one each day. Even started it over when she first finished it.

  I can’t deny anymore that it isn’t just curiosity that has kept me here. I’ve grown to care for her, at least a bit. Doesn’t help that she’s also beautiful. Her hazel eyes are lined with long lashes and her curly hair a dirty blonde. A dust of freckles is splayed across her fair-skinned nose.

  What would she think of me if she saw me as a man?

  She jolts when she finds me watching her like some creep. “Jeez, you scared me.” She places a hand to her chest. “Why are you staring at me, boy?”

  My eyes narrow. She’s called me that a few times before, and I hate it more every time I hear it.

  “Right. You don’t like that nickname.” She rests her head back against the bed frame. “Well, I don’t know what else to call you,” she says through a yawn. Her gaze goes skyward and a frown works its way on her face. Is she thinking about her past right now? Or her future? Where does she plan to go after this?

  I lightly bump her arm with my snout then point to her book.

  Her brows scrunch together. “Do you want me to read to you?”

  I nudge her arm, which I hope she takes to mean yes. A giggle pushes past her lips when I lightly nudge her again. “Alright, sorry.” She readjusts by sitting up some more. “I hope you know I’m not going to start over just for you.”

  I rest my head beside her as she reads out loud again. The sound of her voice soothes my troubled thoughts. She also smells amazing, like fall and spring combined—roses, vanilla, fresh air. I would bathe in her scent if I could. But instead, I’ll simply enjoy the sound of her voice and scent before I no longer can.

  It took two weeks for the snow to clear enough for me to leave. I ran out of food after a week of rationing and had to rummage through the renovated barn for more. Thankfully, there were cans of beans, fruit, and veggies, and a can opener. I should’ve looked sooner, but it’s so hard for me to steal other people’s things.

  I turn off the lights and wait for the wolf to step outside before shutting the door. Turning around, I find him sitting, waiting patiently for me. The wolf healed after just a few days. I’m not sure if that’s strange or normal for animals. I also don’t know why he waited to leave until now, with me, rather than sooner. I let him out a few times a day to allow him to do his business, but he always came back.

  And I’m happy that he did. I’m not sure if I could’ve stayed sane, stuck there all alone. Whenever a storm rolled through, something would trigger me, and I’d be a mess even with him by my side. Who knows how much worse I’d get if he wasn’t there. It’s such a simple thing, but having the wolf around made a huge difference. I have Jane, but having someone physically around, even if it’s a wolf, knowing a little about my past, makes me feel less alone.

  But now, even in such a short amount of time, I’ve grown attached. And I never get attached anymore, not since Will died. Everything I end up caring about gets destroyed. Maybe since he’s an animal it won’t be the case this time.

  I sigh. Who am I kidding? Do I need to keep reminding myself that I can’t keep a wolf as a pet? How would I even take care of him? I glance down at him to find his eyes already on mine. It’s crazy that his eyes speak more to me than any other person I’ve ever met. They’re so expressive. So warm.

  “I guess this is goodbye.” I give him a wobbly smile. What’s wrong with me? Why is this harder than saying goodbye to the few friends I made over the years?

  He nudges my leg before his gaze connects with mine.

  “Why can’t you be my pet?” I blurt out.

  He blinks, then I swear he laughs at me. If wolves could laugh, his huffing and puffing would be it.

  I can’t help pouting. “It isn’t that ridiculous of a thought,” I mumble.

  He gets up and nuzzles his head against my leg, longer this time.

  “Apology accepted.” I pet his head.

  Sighing, I look toward the road then squat down to get on his level, but when I do, he ends up being taller.

  He gently nuzzles my cheek.

  There’s only a slight hesitation before I wrap my arms around him. Touch is still hard, but it helps that he’s only an animal. “Goodbye, my friend.” I only allow myself to hug him for a minute longer before standing up and tugging my coat down. I give him a curt nod and turn toward the road. My feet slightly sink with each step, a bit of snow seeping into my boots, making my toes cold. No one has plowed the road since the storms, but thankfully trees line the path on each side.

  Hearing light crunching behind me, I peer over my shoulder. He’s following me. He’s not even trying to be sneaky about it.

  I whirl around with my hands on my hips. “What do you think you’re doing? Go on back into the forest, you can’t follow me into town.”

  He rolls his eyes at me somehow before stepping closer and nudging me to move.

  My eyes narrow, but I survey my surroundings. I guess it wouldn’t hurt if we walked together since no one is around.

  I sigh in resignation. “Alright, but only until we get to the fork in the road.”

  After a few minutes of walking, with the wolf beside me, I pull out my phone and check for a signal. Nothing yet. Every couple of minutes I check again. There was no reception the entire time I was at the barn. Jane must be freaking out.

  Just as we draw closer to the fork in the road one bar pops up, along with Jane’s number. It ends before I can answer. I quickly redial and she answers after the first ring.

  “Ellie?”

  “Yes, it’s me.”

  “Are you okay? Where the hell have you been? I’ve been trying to call you for two weeks now, but it always went straight to voicemail.”

  “Yeah, I’m so sorry.”
I glance down at the wolf. “The inn you sent me to is no longer running.”

  “What? I could’ve sworn it was. I’ve stayed there before.”

  I pause mid-stride. “What do you mean you’ve stayed there before?”

  “I…that isn’t important, it was years ago. The better question is where did you stay if the inn was closed?”

  “I squatted at a barn nearby.”

  “For two weeks?”

  “There was a storm.” I forego mentioning the state of said barn and glance again at the wolf. I stop at the intersection, the wolf still by my side.

  “Ellie.”

  “I know, but I really didn’t have a choice.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “Well, I actually need you to look up some nearby hotels or a number for a taxi around here.”

  “I told you we should’ve gotten you a smartphone.”

  “It’s too expensive and you know it.” I change phones every move, there’s no way we could afford it. And by we, I mean her. The money I make is small and sometimes illegal. These simple flip phones work just fine for what I need.

  She grumbles under her breath. Her end goes quiet. I remove my ear from the phone and look down, afraid it had died, but it still says the call is running. “Jane?”

  “I’m still here,” she responds. “I know you don’t like staying with strangers, but…”

  “What is it?”

  “My sister lives in that town.”

  “Jane.” Having me near someone she knows is just asking for trouble, even worse that it’s a relative. We can’t have Marcus link us. He could be watching Jane for all we know.

  “I know, but hear me out. You’re on the other side of the country from me. To give me a peace of mind, I needed someone I could trust near you. I can’t get to you fast enough if you need help. So, I don’t regret my choice.”