Cherry
When I wake up, light filters in through my eyelids, and the sound of birds chirping reaches my ears. Slowly, I open my eyes and find myself alone in the cave, though the sound of the men’s voices tells me they’re just outside.
I take a moment to assess myself. I think my stab wound has healed now, so I stand and stretch my legs, finding no residual pain. I take a drink from the fresh bowl of water beside me, trusting that, after being unconscious and weakened around them for a few days, they weren’t about to poison me.
I find a fully cooked rabbit waiting near the cave entrance, just like last night. I only hesitate for a moment before I make my way over to it.
Glancing outside, I find the large blond man, shirtless, chopping some logs, and my mind and body freeze at the sight of him. Corded muscles run up his back, over his shoulders, and down his bare arms. He lets out a small grunt as he swings the large ax down, splitting the log in two.
I’m suddenly reminded of a word I once heard Ruby use to describe a man she’d found cute. Lumbersnack.
I hadn’t known what that meant at the time, but standing here staring at his beyond-large body chopping giant logs in half as if they were butter, I now understand.
He digs his ax into a fallen log then grabs a bottle of water and takes a few big gulps. I watch his neck move as he swallows. When he’s finished, he pushes his messy blond hair away from his face before he notices me watching him.
Being caught has my cheeks heating as if I were blushing, which luckily doesn’t show in my wolf form. It’s strange, feeling attraction to a man when I’m like this. But I don’t feel like an animal. I feel human.
“Little wolf?” I turn to where Maddox is beckoning me over to the fire, where he and the black-haired man are sitting. A big part of me wants to go to him, knowing he won’t hurt me. But that doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous. He has predator written all over him, even if he tries to show me softness.
I take a step backward, lower my head, grab the rabbit, and dart back into the cave. As I eat the cooked meat, I consider not taking any handouts from them. What if they expect something in return?
But I know my best chance at escaping and finding freedom is to regain my full strength, and since I still can’t shift to my human form, I can’t cook, so I’ll eat as much cooked food as they offer me.
I also know I am complete rubbish at catching wild prey. Another thing my wolf is abnormally bad at.
When I finish my meal, and nobody has come in, the need to relieve myself has me once again walking to the mouth of the cave.
This time, my attention is drawn to the twin wolves, Chase and Hunter, who are lying in the middle of the clearing, their heads turned my way. When they see me, their heads lift in unison, making my hackles rise at such obvious attention.
Slowly, they start to stand as Maddox, who’s still seated at the fire, calls over to me. “The twins will take you somewhere you can relieve yourself.”
I watch as one of the twins, Hunter, I think, passes me, giving me a wide berth as if he’s trying not to scare me. I decide to follow, not wanting to stink up my cave, and hear Chase follow behind me.
Ah, I get it. They don’t trust me not to run this time.
I definitely plan to run, just not yet. My side is healed, but if I can stretch this out to get a few days of consistent, large meals in me, I’ll be in much better shape to make it on my own. I also may need to come up with a plan for what comes next before I try.
The bathroom break is quick, and they give me enough privacy not to make me feel like I’m being watched. But by the time we get back to camp, I’m feeling skittish and nervous again and head straight to my cave to be alone.
As soon as I step inside, I freeze, seeing the black-haired man placing something on the ground where I sleep then standing back up. He turns to leave and stops when he sees me. He stares at me for a moment, his mouth pressing into a thin line before he speaks.
“I’m Gage. I don’t think we’ve been introduced yet.” It’s good to put a name to his face, but I don’t respond; I just continue to stare.
He tilts his head as he watches me, as if assessing me, studying me. It sends a chill down my spine and I take a step away from him.
That wipes the curious look off his face and he nods, as if he understands. “I was just leaving you a snack,” he says, pointing at what he placed on the ground. “Don’t feel like you need to stay in here all the time. You’re welcome to join us outside.”
When I don’t react, he nods, then walks toward me as I scurry out of his way.
He doesn’t look at me as he exits the cave and goes to sit with the others at the campfire.
I see the twins have shifted and put on clothes, and as Gage approaches, they all glance up at him before turning their gazes to me.
I duck my head and run into the cave, not liking so many eyes on me, especially when I don't know what they’re thinking. I sniff at the contents of the leaf he left for me, and quickly eat the now familiar berries and nuts.
I decide to rest. Years of captivity and experiments have left me with never-ending exhaustion, and being around these men, I feel safe enough to sleep.
The rest of the day is more of the same. Them trying to coax me out of my cave, me refusing, and them leaving me food anyway.
By the next morning, I realize I’m starting to get used to their presence. Though I’m still not sure what to make of them or what they want from me, and it’s not like I can ask.
In the quiet seclusion of my cave, I try to shift, but nothing happens. It’s as if my magic has gone completely dormant, and I have no idea why. It’s not normal, and I worry I’ve spent so much time in my wolf form that I might be stuck like this forever.
I try to remember the last time I had been human, but the memory evades me. It could have been two years… three? I close my eyes and search my memories for the specific occasion.
“Come over here, zero zero three,” one of the guards commands, his eyes trailing down my eighteen-year-old body.
I might have been barely fed here, but it didn’t stop me from changing from child into woman, although I’m pretty sure my sisters were much more curvy at a much younger age.
It must be the malnutrition that kept it at bay for so long.
I’ve been lucky, all things considered. Nobody has wanted to touch me like that, and I spend all my time in the lab in my wolf form. But based on the look on these two guards’ faces, my luck might have just run out.
I take a step toward him, afraid of him lashing out if I don’t move, but he gets impatient, grabbing my upper arm and yanking me against him.
He grins down at me as his hands slide down my arms. “Hmm… you are a pretty little thing under all that filth, aren’t you?”
“It’s not like I choose not to bathe,” I throw back at him. I’d give almost anything to be clean; it’s not my fault they rarely take me somewhere where I can actually clean myself off.
“Is that what you want? A shower?” He glances over my head at the other guard who’s suddenly pushing against my back, his hands sliding around to my stomach.
I freeze, unsure what to do or how to answer.
“I tell you what, we’ll make a deal with you. You be a good little slut for us, and we’ll make sure you get all the showers and food you want.”
My eyes widen with horror at what he’s asking from me.
“We’ll even throw in a pillow and blanket, if you’re good at it,” the second guard whispers, close to my ear.
His hands slide up until he’s gripping my breasts hard. I cry out and try to pull away, “No! Don’t touch me!”
He squeezes harder before his thumbs strum over my nipples at the same time the man in front of me moves his hand between my legs, cupping me over my long, threadbare T-shirt.
I scream in fear and let my wolf break free. I shift quickly, letting her snap at their hands, leaving blood and bite marks behind.
“You little bitch!” one of them yells before something is thrown over my head, blinding me. A sharp pain in my temple is the last thing I remember before blacking out from the pain.
I shake my head and bring myself back to the present. After that, I told myself I’d never again give them the chance to touch me like that. So I stayed in my wolf form.
If I was eighteen at the time, that would have meant it was five or six years ago. No wonder I’m stuck.
My wolf isn’t like others, though. It’s calmer, more docile, less driven to fight, to hunt, to rage.
Compared to my family, I’ve always been the quietest, the one who holds back while the rest of them storm forward, fearless.
My hunting instincts don’t seem to exist, and when I asked my parents about it, they shrugged and said not to worry, that I’d probably grow into it when I got older, and that they’d take care of me.
But now I know the truth. My lack of normal wolf instincts—hunting, protecting, fighting—is exactly why my whole family is dead and I’m alive.
Every time I think of them, it twists me up on the inside, this sharp, bitter ache that isn’t just grief, it’s guilt. If my wolf had been like theirs, if I had fought, if I had been strong, maybe we would have died together.
I think of that day all the time. Wondering what I could have done to change their fate, but every scenario I come up with tells me the only reason I’m alive is because I didn’t fight those men, like my whole family did. I’m a coward at heart.
Their wolves took over, and they died from the gunshots within seconds.
I would be too if my wolf had tried to fight.
I don’t understand why my instincts are so different from theirs.
I curse myself for it. I’d be in the afterlife with them instead of having to spend every day being tortured by a madman.
Is being alive really any better than being dead if I spend it like that?
But I’m not in that place anymore.