2. Caleb
“ Y ou smell that?”
I paused mid-step, my nose identifying something I hadn’t smelled in a few years. The scent was borderline sacred, as reverent as it was rare.
The first change.
I looked over the heads of the humans alongside me to lock eyes with Keller, the only other wolf in our little group.
“Smell what?” one of the humans asked, swiveling their head this way and that, even though they didn’t have the organs to pick up on the siren’s call beckoning to me. “Tacos?”
I ignored him, instead watching Keller as he nodded thoughtfully in response. Ah, so I wasn’t crazy—he smelled it, too. The intense call of someone beginning to step into their full wolfhood, to answer the call of the moon and everything that came with it, like the thrill of the hunt and, of course, pack.
But what was a wolf doing out in the middle of the city so close to their change? The mystery pre-shifter was likely a female, which put her in an even more vulnerable position. She was coming into the enhanced abilities and strength that came with being one of us, and they’d be new and unwieldy. Not to mention all the other side effects that came with learning how to control the inner beast blooming within her.
“Yeah, tacos,” I said with a laugh before allowing myself one last concerned look at Keller. If it was a girl, much as I hated to admit it, one of the biggest threats to her was other shifters.
Other male shifters.
I’d prefer to think our kind would watch out for each other, as the world was hard enough for wolves without us biting each other’s throats. But it wasn’t exactly unheard of for experienced shifters to find a newly minted or about-to-turn wolf, then take advantage. It was far too easy to do, whether physically or mentally.
Not that I blamed the new shifters—the weeks before and after the first shift were an incredibly important time, as well as an influential one. New shifters didn’t imprint , yet they did tend to form pseudo-pack-like bonds incredibly quickly, and making such connections with an abuser... it rarely ended well.
A new shifter, no matter their gender, was supposed to have a guardian. One who’d watch their back and make sure they didn’t get taken advantage of. Either the newbie I was smelling was a lone wolf who had no idea what was about to happen to them, or they were from the Black Hawk Pack and their guardian was indisposed.
Or royally fucking up their job.
None of those options were good, so I hoped there was a fourth reason.
It wasn’t really my business, not technically. Yet, I felt the natural protective alpha urge within me rise up. Someone was possibly in trouble. Someone who was vulnerable and likely didn’t know the difficult time they were about to be thrust into.
I should keep my nose out of it. I really should…
I glanced over at Keller again, and I could tell by his expression he already knew what was going on in my head.
“Hey, I hate to do this,” I said to my human companions, “but I got a text that I’m needed back home. Pipe burst and everything.”
“Oh, shit, really?” Keller asked, ever the actor.
Shifters were good at spotting liars—between heartbeats and scent changes acting as blinking neon signs, it was second nature to most of us—but Keller had a preternatural talent for it. He always claimed he should have been a Hollywood action star if he hadn’t been a wolf, and while I usually thought it was a joke, our years of friendship proved he might actually be serious.
“You’re gonna need my help, then,” Keller said. “We can swing by my place and grab my welder.”
I knew for certain that Keller did not own, and would never own, a welder, but I nodded along. “Yeah, sure,” I said. “Many hands make light work.”
There was a chorus of disappointed sounds from the gaggle of humans we were with, but I didn’t care. They were friendly acquaintances and knew Keller better, so it wasn’t like their opinion of me mattered. Especially when there might be a fledgling wolf on the line.
“Maybe next time, guys!” Keller said in parting. “See you.”
Keller and I turned to our right and headed to the closest intersection, waiting for the light to change before crossing. In reality, I could bound the entire span of the street in one jump, maybe two, but I needed time to catch more of the scent and what direction it was coming from.
The extra time waiting on the light did allow me to catch the dulcet notes again. It was coming in faint waves, carried on the night wind like the slightest bit of succor to the normally crisp, dry Denver air. Finally, I could say with confidence what direction the newbie was in, and I headed that way with a purposeful stride.
It was a sweet scent, that was for sure, one that grew more and more feminine as Keller and I strolled along. Still, sharp as our noses were, the scent was obscured by all the facets of the city. The acrid burn of gasoline, the long and stagnant weight of tar in the air. Cigarettes, blunts, and stale alcohol from patrons stumbling out of bars far too early to be so inebriated. The car exhaust, feral strays marking their territory, the byproduct of too many houses stacked too close together, too many people struggling to survive. The city was quite the assault on a shifter’s senses. One of the many reasons I didn’t stay in it for long.
I was a wolf through and through, despite my human trappings.
My pace picked up as we went along, until both Keller and I were in a light jog. I was hoping I’d stumble across this new shifter and find their guardian as well, obscured by scent-blocking lotion or perfume—or perhaps they were too old to be noticed. I knew the glands in our body that produced our more visceral hormones and scents got weaker as we aged.
I’d understand if a grandmother or grandfather was explaining things to their shifter grandchild while looking up at the stars. After all, it was under the dark velvet of night that I, too, had gotten my first talk from my grandfather. I’d already been well aware that I was a wolf, but that was when he’d taken me aside to explain the true responsibilities on my shoulders as an alpha: how some abused that power to hurt others, but in reality, our job as alphas were to be protectors, shepherds, and nurturers. We were meant to encourage those we took care of to be the best they could be, as much as we were meant to throw a punch or defend with teeth and claws.
It was a lesson I didn’t really understand at the time, but ol’ Henry Mason was right, as wise grandfathers tended to be. It’d taken me too long to get it, and I’d made some bad decisions in that time, but I liked to think that I understood now.
“Man, she’s really out here, huh?” Keller asked, cutting into my introspection.
“So, you think she’s a she?” I kept my voice low. Thankfully, wolves had incredibly sharp hearing, so I didn’t have to worry about Keller not being able to hear me.
“Fairly certain. Doesn’t it smell that way to you?”
“Yeah, it does.”
Our conversation ebbed after that, both of us concentrating on tracking our target. It was after we passed a tire factory and the awful smell of burning rubber stopped forcing its way into my nose that I noticed something else about the scent we were following.
Something familiar.
What was that?
It was an undertone that tugged on parts of my brain and wouldn’t let go, insisting I pay attention.
I stopped dead in my tracks once again and concentrated, even closing my eyes, taking deep, deep breaths, then breathing out through my nose. I churned through memories, digging up whatever could match the strange feeling of nostalgia underlying my reaction.
I knew that scent. I knew it. It called to a part of my brain that couldn’t be ignored.
“Yo, Caleb, you all right? What’s going on?”
I didn’t answer, still searching through my mind and every memory I could pull up. Years of data crammed into my head, but what was the use if I couldn’t find what I needed?
Then a particularly strong draft of wind hit me right in the face, and I was plunged into memories of a time I usually held under lock and key, tucked far into the deepest dredges of my experiences since I’d joined the earth.
It couldn’t be, though.
It couldn’t.
Yet, when another gust of that increasingly enticing scent hit me, it was all I could think of. I found myself bolting down the street.
I hadn’t even made the conscious decision to run; I just did. My body was moving all on its own, like the inner instincts of my wolf had completely taken over. I was being led by my nose and my heart, and perhaps the hope against hope that somehow, I was right about what I was recognizing, even if it made no sense. I cut through alleys, sprinting down them, not caring if my boots splashed into a puddle and soaked my legs. What was important was finding this newbie shifter and making sure they were safe.
I also needed to find out why they smelled like someone I hadn’t allowed myself to think about in so long.
I wasn’t really familiar enough with the city to know where I was going, but I ran like, well, a dog with a bone. I could hear Keller calling out behind me, but I didn’t stop for him. I figured he’d catch up, and that would be that. What I didn’t expect was to erupt out of an alley, across the street of a nightclub blaring music so loud, I could hear the lyrics even from where I was standing.
Wait, BLX? I’d heard of it. I knew a lot of Black Hawk wolves liked to go there. Clubs weren’t really my scene, but I felt myself pulled that way all the same.
“Caleb, what are you doing?” Keller demanded. “You can’t go in there!”
I ignored him. I was too drawn to the scent and the mystery.
It turned out neither of us had to worry, because the scent wasn’t coming from the main doors. I approached them, my posture daring the bouncers to stop me, but I paused before I even reached them when I realized that whoever the newbie was, they were not inside.
I wondered if I’d already missed the poor girl. It rankled my inner alpha to think of her alone and scared, her body going through changes she possibly had no idea were about to set upon her. Downright angry rumbles surged inside my chest. Perhaps some other shifter had scented her changing within the club and gallivanted her away to indoctrinate her, or otherwise take advantage.
A small part of my brain prayed that if she’d been found by another shifter, they were like me and wanted to get her to safety. But I’d been around far too long and had seen far too much to believe luck would be so kind.
I turned and walked around the perimeter of the club. Maybe the girl hadn’t gotten far at all, or, if she was alone and completely unaware of her rapidly shifting biology, she was taking a break in the cool air. Between the alcohol, intense smells, and pounding music, the interior could be an overwhelming place for a new wolf.
She wasn’t anywhere in the front, nor along the side. For a moment, I lost her scent entirely as I passed a dumpster. Surely she wouldn’t be hanging out in the poorly lit back part of a downtown nightclub.
But then I got enough distance from the trash and caught the scent again. Barely there, but it wasn’t unusual for cold temperatures to mute olfactory senses. I picked my pace back up to a light jog and turned yet another corner towards the back. I was getting closer to Kaia, I?—
No.
No.
Kaia was dead. I knew that. I knew it like I knew I needed air to breathe.
I had to get back on track and find the newbie wolf before things got dangerous, for her or anyone else. I scanned the scant parking lot that led out to a smaller side street.
That was where I saw her.
The new shifter.
She was shorter and dressed comfortably, but the get-up wasn’t exactly ready for the cold night. Her skin was pale, and her blond hair cut into a respectable bob. She was curvaceous in a way I’d always found captivating, but the way she held herself made it seem like she was uncomfortable in her own skin. On any other night, I might have said she was unremarkable. But tonight? She might as well be wearing a neon sign.
I knew the woman in front of me couldn’t be her . Yet, there was no denying the similarities in their scent. No wonder my brain was so enraptured.
But as rattled as I was, I knew I couldn’t approach the woman all keyed up. I took a moment to inhale deeply, urging my pheromones to simmer down. Being a new wolf was already overwhelming enough. I didn’t want to add to it.
But before I could take a step closer, the door beside her opened, and a very human-smelling man joined her. He handed the girl a satchel, then a coat she likely didn’t need. Shifters were much better at regulating their body temperature and often ran hotter than humans. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she thought she had a fever. It also explained how she’d managed to stand outside in such a short dress without shivering.
I changed my mental approach, figuring I could get close by asking the couple for a cigarette. Maybe the man with her wasn’t a shifter, but someone adjacent to a pack getting her to safety. I didn’t need to worry, and I could go about my night knowing they’d be okay.
I took another step forward, only to be interrupted by a car approaching. Without much fanfare, the pair got in and headed down the road.
Damn.
I was faced with a sudden quandary as the car drove off. Do I give chase? Do I assume that the human was about to have a partially shifted girlfriend in the middle of his apartment, scared and full of powers and abilities she’d never had before? Or should I assume that they’d both be safe? I didn’t know, and I didn’t come upon an answer before they’d turned a corner, taking the would-be wolf and her delicious scent away.
“What the hell was that?” Keller demanded, finally catching up to us.
I didn’t know how to explain to him the familiarity of the scent, because I knew he’d laugh at me. The girl I’d caught a whiff of had been dead far too long to be seeing her ghost now. I’d long ago put to bed the memory of mourning her, the era when grief was still fresh and full of the vain hope that everything had been a fucked-up dream.
“It’s nothing,” I said before turning back in the direction we came. “If that girl really is a wolf about to go into her first shift, I’m sure we’ll hear about it soon enough.”