Chapter 10 #2
"I've been doing research. A lot of research." She takes a breath. "Local history, folklore, that journal I found. And I've been observing things that don't make sense. Your abilities, the way the community operates, the way everyone defers to you like you're their?—"
"Their Alpha," I finish quietly.
Her eyes widen slightly. "Yes. Like that. Like there's a hierarchy I'm not seeing, a structure that goes deeper than just a small town."
"What else?" I ask, because I need to know how much she's already figured out.
"The wolves. The ones I saw that first day by the creek.
I keep thinking about them, about how they behaved.
How one protected me and the other was aggressive.
How you showed up right after they left.
" She's watching my face carefully. "And all the folklore talks about shape-shifters, about people who can transform, who live in isolated communities, who protect their territory with?—"
"With everything we have," I say. "Because it's not just land to us, Ava. It's our home. Our safe haven. The only place we can truly be ourselves."
"We," she repeats. "So I'm right. You're?—"
"Let's get to the clearing first," I interrupt gently. "I want to show you, not just tell you. And I want to do it somewhere you'll feel safe."
She nods slowly, and we continue walking.
The silence between us is charged now, heavy with anticipation and fear and something else I can't quite name.
My wolf is restless, pacing inside my mind, eager and terrified in equal measure.
This is my mate. She's so close to understanding, so close to accepting us.
Or running from us.
I push the thought away. Ava is brave. Ava is strong. She wouldn't have come this far if she wasn't ready.
The clearing opens up before us, bathed in moonlight. It's a perfect circle maybe fifty feet across, ringed by ancient oaks and carpeted in soft grass. I've come here countless times over the years, to think, to run, to escape the weight of leadership for a few precious hours.
Tonight, I'm bringing that weight with me.
"It's beautiful," Ava says, moving to the center of the clearing. She tilts her head back, looking up at the stars visible through the break in the canopy. "I can see why you'd come here."
"I used to come here with Curtis," I tell her, moving to stand beside her. "My predecessor. The Alpha before me. He'd bring me here when the pressure of leadership training got too intense, and we'd just... exist. As wolves, as men, as whatever we needed to be in that moment."
"He chose you to lead?"
"He recommended me. The pack voted to confirm his choice." I smile slightly. "It's not hereditary. The Alpha is chosen based on strength, wisdom, the ability to protect and guide the pack. Curtis saw something in me that I'm still not sure I deserve."
"I think you do," Ava says softly. "I've seen how people respond to you, Hunter. The respect, the trust. You carry it well."
"Even when I'm lying to you?"
The words slip out before I can stop them, and I see her flinch slightly.
"You haven't lied," she says carefully. "You've omitted certain truths."
"Because those truths aren't just mine to share.
They belong to the whole pack. Every person you met tonight, every family in Willow Creek, we all carry the same secret.
And bringing you into it means asking them to trust you with their safety.
" I turn to face her fully. "That's not a decision I can make lightly. "
"But you're making it now."
"Yes." I reach up, cupping her face with one hand. "Because you're important to me, Ava. More important than you probably realize. And because I can't keep pretending that you're just some researcher passing through. You're not. You're?—"
"What?" she breathes. "What am I?"
The word is right there, on the tip of my tongue. Mine. My mate. The one my wolf recognized the moment I saw her by the creek, injured and afraid but standing her ground anyway.
But I can't say it. Not yet. Not until she knows what that means.
"You're someone I want in my life," I say instead. "Someone I trust. Someone I..." I trail off, struggling with words that feel inadequate.
Ava steps closer, and suddenly there's barely any space between us. "Someone you what?"
"Someone I'm falling for," I admit. "Fast and hard and in a way that probably doesn't make sense given how little time we've known each other. But wolves don't love like humans do, Ava. When we find the right person, we know."
"And you think I'm the right person?"
"I know you are."
She's looking up at me with those intelligent green eyes, searching my face for something. Truth, maybe. Certainty. I can see her pulse beating at the base of her throat, can hear the slight hitch in her breathing.
"Show me," she says softly. "You said you needed to show me what you are. I need to see it, Hunter. I need to understand."
Part of me wants to kiss her first, to have this moment before everything changes. But she's right. She needs to see the truth before we go any further. She needs to make her choice with full knowledge of what I am.
"Okay," I say, stepping back even though it physically hurts to put distance between us. "But Ava, once you see this, there's no going back. You can't unknow it."
"I want to understand." She wraps her arms around herself. "Please."
I take a deep breath and start unbuttoning my shirt. "The transformation destroys clothes," I explain, my fingers working the buttons. "So we strip first. I prefer having something to put back on."
I can see her processing this, adding it to her mental catalog of werewolf facts. Ever the scientist, even in the face of the impossible.
I finish removing my shirt, draping it over a low branch, then start on my boots and jeans. Ava watches, her cheeks flushed, but she doesn't look away. When I'm down to just my boxer briefs, I pause.
"This is going to be intense," I warn her. "The shift isn't pretty or smooth or magical. It's visceral and painful and violent. And the wolf you're about to see is me, but he's also different. More instinctive. More protective."
"Will he hurt me?"
"Never." The word comes out as a growl. "He'd die before letting anything happen to you. But Ava, if you need to step back, if this is too much?—"
"I'm not going anywhere," she says firmly. "Show me."
Those two words give me the courage I need. I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and let go of the control I've been maintaining all evening.
The shift starts in my core, a burning sensation that spreads outward through my limbs. My bones begin to reshape, shortening in some places, lengthening in others. I drop to my hands and knees as my spine curves, as my hands become paws, as fur erupts across my skin.
It hurts. It always hurts. The pain of transformation is the price we pay for what we are, a reminder that we're straddling two worlds and fully belong to neither.
My face elongates into a muzzle. My teeth sharpen into fangs. My senses explode with new input. Smells and sounds and sensations that my human form can only dimly perceive.
And then it's done.
I stand on four legs in the clearing, my wolf form fully emerged. I'm larger than a natural wolf—easily twice the size—with dark fur that's almost blue in the moonlight. My eyes, I know, are still blue. That doesn't change.
I turn my head to look at Ava.
She's taken several steps back, her arms still wrapped around herself.
For a long moment, she just stares, completely silent, her face pale in the moonlight.
I can smell the adrenaline spike, the fear, but also something else underneath.
The same curiosity and wonder I've come to recognize as essentially her.
"The bone structure," she finally says, her voice shaking slightly.
"Your skeleton completely restructured. That should be impossible.
The energy required alone..." She trails off, then seems to shake herself.
"You're bigger than a normal wolf. Significantly.
And the proportions are slightly different. The shoulder width, the skull shape."
Even now, she's cataloging observations. Making notes in her scientist's mind.
I take a slow step toward her, keeping my movements deliberate and non-threatening. She doesn't run, but she doesn't move closer either. We're at an impasse, predator and prey, except she's not prey and we both know it.
"It's really you," she says, and it's not a question. "Those blue eyes. That's how I knew. That day by the creek—The wolf had eyes exactly like yours. I told myself it was a coincidence, but..."
I take another step closer. Then another. She holds her ground, her scientific mind warring with her instincts.
When I'm within a few feet of her, I sit, making myself as small and non-threatening as a two-hundred-pound wolf can be. Then I lower my head slightly, showing submission. Showing trust.
Slowly, like she's approaching something that might bolt—or bite—Ava kneels down. Her hand reaches out, trembling, and then her fingers are in my fur.
Her breath catches. "You're so warm."
I press my head into her touch, and I feel some of the tension leave her body.
"This is real," she whispers, running her hand down my neck, over my shoulder.
"You're real. This is actually happening.
" Her voice gets stronger, more analytical.
"The fur is coarser than a dog's but softer than I'd expect for a wild wolf.
And the musculature… You're built for power, not just speed. "
I huff out a breath that might be a laugh in human form. Of course she's analyzing my wolf body like a research subject.
“Is everyone in Willow Creek a wolf? The whole community?”
I nod, the gesture awkward in wolf form but clear enough.