CHAPTER: 2 of 36

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Thousands of nights had passed since then. The mystery of the darkness no longer held the same intrigue. I loved mornings more, when the light of the rising sun found its way over the horizon and tried to get its warmth to me through the thin tree trunks. As I ran, I looked for the precise moment when the forest floor turned the color of reddish clay in the dim light, then faded back to muddy brown. And I would run towards the orb of light in the distance as if it were a real destination, obtainable.

When the nights were especially cold, I loved to play hunter, running for the sun as quickly as I could, swerving and propelling myself off trees and lifted roots. I would never trip or hit a tree the way I would in my human skin. Even on two legs, I was graceful but my speed, my strength, and my nose were almost nonexistent in comparison.

That morning, I thought I was the only one of my kind for miles. I had accepted this since my first change, the loneliness, but I always held hope that there were others like me. Some parts of me hoped my loved ones would one day change, evolve the way I had, so they could feel the same pleasure of the run, chase the same sun. But that was only hope. There were no others.

That meaningless September morning of my eighteenth year, I discovered the truth.

I ran parallel to the city limits until I crossed the relatively empty highway that cut through the grounds. Only trucks and tourists came that way but, sometimes, I’d have to wait behind the tree line for caravans to pass. That night, it was clear so I ran right through and was instantly bombarded by the smell of sweat and flesh.

Two heartbeats. I could hear them loud and clear and barely a half mile ahead. The drum-like beats were obvious amidst the gentle chorus of the swaying trees and smaller prey. That was usually the sign of deer. They were some of my favorites to chase. So astute, so fast. It was the largest game in these parts, certainly some of the fastest.

But no. The closer I got to the two, the louder the heartbeats. Humans? Out here?

No, they couldn’t be. The usual smells that surrounded human flesh – leather upholstery, perfume, bug repellent, and denim – weren’t present. Even after hikers bathed in the rivers, I could still smell those things on them. They practically released that new car smell from their pores.

These two beats and their mysteriously absent smells intrigued me, so I slowed down to catch a better wind. I circled the scent, making sure I knew in my mind’s map their exact locations. They were sleeping by the steadiness of their breathing. They didn’t move for not a single leaf ruffled. I knew how to hide the sound of my steps by jumping from raised root to raised root but to careful ears like mine, not even those sounds could escape. The trees were thicker here and the soil softer. I tried not to leave many prints, and I never left a trail.

I closed in the circle around them, curiosity driving my paws. They still didn’t move. I looked up at the thick, low branches and jumped up in a single long bounce onto the next branch.

I jumped off to the next tree but the loose bark rolled off and my paws slipped. I couldn’t risk the thud of my fall to wake my mysterious prey so I haphazardly pushed myself onto the next branch. I scrambled to jump but I had no footing whatsoever. I slid forms. In a second, my dainty human hands were holding me off the ground and it was just a matter of pulling myself up again. I jumped from one branch to the next with my human feet, sliding forms in mid-air and landing on my sturdy white paws.

I could see into the clearing now. The duo looked normal, just two humans asleep against the concave curve formed by the raised roots of a hundred-year-old tree.

I stared, stunned. They were both beautiful in their naked forms. A male and female, their legs and arms tangled together in an embrace that would have made me blush in my human form. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to wake them but my curiosity was burning a hole in my chest.

Every muscle in my body went stiff but ached to move. I marveled at them for a moment longer, as long as I could stand still and silent. She had an olive color, sun-kissed and healthily shimmering in the moonlight. He was much fairer, with dark blond hair sleeked back. They both had long, lean bodies like mine. Runners, by the look of their thighs. I had never smelled another wolf, let alone two, but I knew they were like me.

They smelled strongly of each other, like the sweat and water on their bodies was creating a milky mist in the bright morning light. I knew I didn’t do that. At least, no one had ever stayed around long enough to notice nor did anyone I know have my sight.

I couldn’t turn away. For the love of God, what was wrong with me? I shook like a wet dog, trying to snap myself out of my delirium. I was careless, suddenly forgetting my surroundings, and stepped on a small pile of leaves hiding a large twig. The noise was not enough to wake a human but certainly enough to wake a wolf.

The boy sat up, untangling himself from his mate effortlessly. I was terrified to look back. Usually, the wolf in me would react and I’d turn around, ready to bear my teeth. But these were my people. By their smells, I knew they lived in the forests. They lived like me. I couldn’t possibly kill them, even if every bit of me was drowning in adrenaline.

So, I turned to face his bright blue eyes. They were the color I expected by some strange instinct. His hair was like mine but fairer. It should only account that his eyes were like mine but lighter. I suppose my cynicism had not let me truly accept what I had seen because it still surprised me to hear him growl at me like an animal. He didn’t shift but it was in his eyes, the light just before the change. I’d seen it so many times in my own reflection in the lake water. And here it was, in blue eyes not green, staring me down like the animal I was.

Then, he sniffed and must have caught the smell of human on me because he stopped, as stunned to see me as I was of him. I wanted to speak, to apologize for encroaching on their land but my damn muzzle got in the way. All I could manage was a small whimper, a stuttered one at that.

I wasn’t going to let him pounce on me. I was going to jump him first if it came to my survival. At least, that’s what the human in me was telling me. Surprisingly, this was the rational side of me surfacing, condoning murder! No, I wouldn’t let that happen. I let the familial wolf in me drive me and I ran away rather than hurt them.

Without even a word, a part of me already considered them family.

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I ran so quickly that even my human form was tired. I had to run in circles around town so they wouldn’t be able to chase my scent home. I was human enough to let them live. I had no way of knowing if they would extend me the same courtesy. I was running too quickly to hear if I was being followed and the sound of my heart deafened the world around me.

As soon as I arrived home, to the same dreary one-floor house cleverly hidden between other dreary houses, the sound quickly died out and I felt myself comforted by the familiar smell of vanilla candles and my mom’s fabric softener. I bent over in the middle of my room, leaning onto my knees for support as I calmed my aching heart. My ribs hurt as if I’d spent the night curled up in a tiny box, seeing freedom for the first time now. I suddenly remembered it was a Saturday, which I usually spent at my best friend’s house. He’d want to hear what I’d just seen. He always knew there were more of me.

Michael Hartley McCullough – whom we lovingly called Hart – was the first person I ever told what I was, aside from my parents. His were filthy rich which could have bought him many friends. Instead, he confided in me, the quiet girl who always sat alone at lunch, staring at nothing in particular. When I’d asked him why he approached me at all, he simply answered, “The seat next to you had an excellent view of the courtyard. What can I say? I never pass up a good view.”

Knowing it was still around 7:00 a.m. and that he would surely be in bed till well past midday, I realized it was horribly rude for me to barge in. Luckily, neither of us gave a damn, certainly not when it came to such important news. I thought to call but he didn’t answer. He rarely remembered to charge his stupid fancy phone, especially since he didn’t know where the charger went.

I just desperately needed to talk to someone and I could think of no one else who I could speak as freely with. I had to tell Hart about them, just to make sure I would not forget. If I kept it to myself, I would begin to question their existence, the accuracy of my eyes, the possibility of a hallucination or waking dream. I wished I could trust my memory more. It didn’t help that the fantasy of being human corrupted my wolf mind and so, reality meant little to me unless another could verify it. For years, I doubted the run as real.

I didn’t bother with a shower since I knew humans couldn’t smell the wolf scent, and so merely sprayed myself with some bad perfume so the wolves’ senses would become warped. My nose was too sensitive for the use of perfume so I assumed it would burn their noses as well and ward them off. I didn’t change my clothes though, knowing that leaving it with my scent in the room would confirm to them where I lived, had they managed to track me this far. I sprayed perfume on my bed, around my walls, in my cabinets… I just wish I didn’t abhor this particular scent. It was destroying the sweet smell of vanilla that I’d spent years building up with my mother’s bad scented candles.

I reached for a piece of paper from my backpack and scribbled down a quick note for my parents, telling them I’d be at Hart’s, and slid it under their door. I could hear Mom snoring on the other side and smiled, glad to know they were okay for now. I didn’t like to be away for long, should they call. Like Rowan, they were never in my dreams so, if I saw them, heard them, smelled them from afar, I knew I was in the real world.

Also, since they took me into their care, I quickly became very defensive. I felt like I had to protect them. Hart and I were always the parents of the group and so it was not a stretch that I would see even my own parents as part of my protective circle. I just wished they needed me more, that I could help Dad recover from his heart attacks with the knowledge I’d gained from the forests. I hated feeling useless.

I left through the front door, a baggy gray sweater over my slinky green dress. I felt like I needed to hide, and I knew of no better way than in plain sight. Despite the heat from the run and the morning sun, I hugged the sweater to my skin, desperate for the feel of safe arms around me. I walked towards the bay, to Hart’s. His house could be seen in the distance, all six floors of it.

By car, the trip would have taken five minutes. By foot, it was obviously longer, even for someone as quick as I. I wanted desperately to shift, to shed these clothes and this tight skin and take in the wind through my long fur coat. I reached his driveway and didn’t think twice before barging in through the always open doors. His maid stopped me but when she saw my face beneath the nest of unruly hair hiding my features, she stepped aside and I rushed up the stairs.

As I expected, Hart was splayed across the bed, completely nude except for some cleverly placed, ridiculously expensive red sheets. His dark-colored skin seemed dull in the lack of light. I knew better than to consider any part of Hart dull.

I drew open the matching red curtains in one swift pull but the morning light did not wake him. There was a small puddle of drool by his wide-open mouth and his usually primly styled, curly afro was now one giant, sweaty mess. That could only mean one thing: he’d been drinking.

“Hart!” I called into his ear. He only shushed me away sleepily. I’d done that one too many times and he was used to falling asleep amidst loud noises. I didn’t care. I needed to feel safe. That wouldn’t happen at Rowan’s. “Hart! For the love of Christ, wake the fuck up! I need to talk to you!”

I heard a flush come from the bathroom and turned around instinctively, ready to frighten whoever attacked with my growls. But, as soon as I saw her, I froze. “She,” the only name I or Hart would ever know her as, was a six-foot-something model he’d probably brought home from one of his Friday night soirees on the other side of town. “You Ione?” she asked me. I sat on the bed beside him, looking a bit star-struck. She was beautiful, ridiculously long-legged. They always were.

I nodded, stupefied. I don’t why it still surprised me to see them. After all, this wasn’t the first time I’d walked in on his midnight escapades. This was a calm scene by comparison. As soon as she saw me territorially sitting on the bed, she excused herself, picked up her red lacy bra from the back of a plush armchair and left in no great rush. I sighed, relieved I hadn’t spilled any secrets while trying to wake him up. I learned to use euphemisms around Hart early in our relationship for the sheer sake of eavesdroppers.

I turned to him, watched him as he continued to drool on the bed. I once thought it was money that made him so carefree and, by all emotional accounts, innocent. But no. It was just Hart being Hart. I poked his forehead twice, hard. That usually did the trick. Nope. I noticed the used condom wrappers on the night table by the bed and realized it probably wasn’t booze. He was just tired.

I sighed and gave up. There’d be no waking him. Instead, I curled up beside him, avoiding the puddle of drool, and closed my eyes, reliving what I’d just seen in the woods.

How I got there to that part of the woods was irrelevant. My life as I knew it was irrelevant. All that mattered was that I wasn’t alone, in any sense of the word. I had Hart, Rowan, and now, the knowledge that I wasn’t the only one of my kind.

Two hours later, Hart jumped up in bed, startled most likely by a dream than by my presence. “Yo,” he greeted me, disoriented by the daylight.

I smiled at his ability with words. He was like a picture onto himself. One word spoke thousands. “You been talking to your whores about me again?” I answered jokingly, uncurling.

He scratched at his head and wrapped himself in his sheets, running to the bathroom in a moment of realization. “Well I have to warn them you come in unannounced all the time. It’s one of my new rules.”

“What were the old ones again?”

“Never the same one twice. Always pay for cab fare and dry cleaning. Wear a rubber like your life depends on it, as it usually does. Watch out for plastic surgery…”

“STOP!” I shouted, knowing I was supposed to be disgusted. “I get it. I get it! You can stop.”

“What ya doin’ here, then? Row drooped, you got bored, so you come lookin’ for girl talk?” I was always amazed at how little money had to do with class and especially language. His mother, Beatrice, had the most perfect vernacular I had ever heard in an adult so I knew Hart was capable of it. He just honestly did not care to use it around us.

I stared at him for a moment as he came back out of the bathroom, my mouth slightly ajar. He plopped some toothpaste on his toothbrush and started brushing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. “You kiss your mistresses with that mouth?”

“You damn well fucking betcha,” he garbled.

This was not the first morning where I’d had to tell him to watch himself. When he got tired, he got careless with his words. “I’m sorry. It was important.”

He could see from my face that it was. I caught myself in the full-length mirrors by his bed. I looked grave. “You okay? I was only kidding about Rowan… Hey, it happens to every guy.”

My reluctant smile was warped by my thoughts, turning into a scowl too quickly. He went to spit out his toothpaste as I talked. “I saw… I saw other wolves,” I whispered, testing how I would tell him. From the bathroom, he couldn’t have heard.

“What?” he shouted over the sound of the faucet running.

I knew I couldn’t yell it across the room, should someone outside overhear so I walked into the bathroom as he slid into the shower, catching a glimpse of his backside. I’d often commended him on it and he was much too willing to show it off. I pulled down the lid on the toilet seat and sat down.

“I saw other wolves, Hart. Two. Like me.”

He stuck his head through the curtains. That, and probably the sudden cold of the shower, most surely woke him up. “Are you serious?”

“As that sore you got last month.”

“Fuck! What are you going to do?”

I threw my hands in the air in exasperation. I came to him for answers and a confidante, not pointless questions. “I don’t know! The guy growled at me. I wanted to hurt him, Hart. I’ve never wanted to hurt anything in my life, never even bitten an animal in the hunt, but I felt protective of… well, you guys. Maybe it’s a territory thing. I dunno. But I growled at him, he growled back, and I just ran.”

I breathed out. The catharsis was taking effect. He could see I was relaxing. “It’s all right, baby girl. You just stay clear of the woods for a while.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know if I can do that. What if they’re here to stay? What if they hurt you guys?”

He pondered his answer for a moment, staring at a spot on his tiles. “They’re part human, right? You could ask them what they want.”

“I doubt they can talk, Hart. They were sleeping naked in the woods. They don’t exactly seem civilized.”

He sputtered. “You sleep in the woods. You’re pretty fucking civilized.”

“Have there been any new people in town? Anyone moved in? They have to have a house somewhere, right? They can’t just live in the forest, right?”

He shrugged and snuck his head back into the shower, turning on the water. “Give it a day and go back. If they’re still there come Monday, you can try to ask. If not, you can always run away again. You were faster than them the first time, right?”

I agreed and pulled open the curtain to kiss him on the cheek. He stopped trying to cover up years ago. Instead, he smirked deviously, his signature look. I waited for him to finish his shower, browsing his bookcases. He had nothing that interested me, just a lot of contemporary fiction that offered little to the imagination. After all, why did I need to read about being in high school? I was in high school. And, once I left, I would be so happy to be out. Why would I want to relive all those times through someone else’s perspective?

“Ione, ready?” Hart called as he examined himself in his full-length mirrors. He wore a simple blue button-down shirt and a pair of jeans, pulled dangerously down. Luckily, he always wore tasteful boxers under so the local old ladies weren’t too shocked. It was the style.

“Yea,” I answered, jumping off his bed, eager for today’s adventure.

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A/N: Chapter 3 will be posted tomorrow in the morning. We learn a bit more about Asher and Kay, his mate, as well as Jeny. In chapter 4, you see how Rowan and Ione first met which is a lovely piece of fluff for all you romancers. To catch up on updates as they appear, add Consorts to your story alert list.