Chapter One #3
I peer up at the cloudy sky. There’s a break in the clouds and the sight of the full moon makes my heart speed up.
With a feeling of excited nervousness, I give one last look around and then strip quickly behind a dumpster, folding my clothes and tucking them under the back stairs.
The cold bites at my bare skin, but I barely feel it. My wolf is already surging forward.
The shift starts immediately in my chest, a deep crack that reverberates through my ribcage.
My bones begin to reshape, breaking and reforming with wet pops that would make me scream if I hadn’t done this a thousand times before.
The pain is familiar, even welcome. It’s been far too long since I gave into this primal need.
My spine elongates with a series of sharp cracks, vertebrae separating and reforming.
I drop to my hands and knees as my legs restructure themselves, femurs shortening, joints reversing.
The sensation is like being pulled apart and put back together wrong, except it’s not wrong. It’s so fucking right.
Silver-tipped fur erupts across my skin in a rippling wave, starting at my spine and spreading outward.
The sensation is almost orgasmic, each follicle awakening with a sharp tingle that races across my body.
I can feel each individual hair pushing through my skin, thousands of them, soft and thick.
The cold that bit at my bare skin moments ago disappears beneath the insulation.
My face elongates, jaw cracking and stretching forward into a muzzle.
My teeth sharpen and lengthen, tongue reshaping itself.
My ears migrate up the sides of my head, growing and sharpening to points.
The sounds of the night suddenly explode around me.
The whisper of snow falling through pine branches, the scurry of a mouse thirty yards away, the distant rumble of a truck on the mountain roads.
My hands and feet compact and reshape, fingers fusing and forming into paws, nails thickening into claws that dig into the frozen earth. The final changes ripple through me, tail extending from my spine, internal organs shifting to accommodate my new form.
And then it’s done.
I shake myself, feeling lighter in this form. I’m smaller than a lot of wolves. I’ve always been on the leaner side, built for speed rather than brute strength. My fur catches the moonlight filtering through the trees as a rush of euphoria overtakes me.
The world is alive to me in ways my human senses can never comprehend.
I can smell everything. The sharp bite of pine sap, the musk of deer that passed through hours ago, the complex layering of other wolves’ scents that crisscross the woods like invisible boundaries.
I can hear the heartbeat of the forest, the tiny sounds that make up the night.
I bolt deeper into the woods. My paws find purchase on the snow-covered ground, claws gripping as I leap over a fallen log. The tension that’s been coiled in my chest since Atlanta begins to unwind with each stride.
I don’t think. I just move. Muscles stretching and contracting, breath misting in the cold air, the rhythm of paws hitting earth. This is what I needed. Not the beer, not the burger, not Steve’s unwanted attention or that dark-haired wolf’s confusing stare.
Just this. Just running. Just being wolf.
In the distance, a howl rises, long and mournful, answered by another, then another.
The local pack, calling to each other across the mountain.
The sound vibrates through my chest, ancient and primal.
My wolf responds with a surge of joy. I don’t join in.
I’m not a member of their pack, but I do love the sound.
In Atlanta, I never heard the pack run. Too much noise, too many humans, too much concrete drowning out what we’re meant to be. But here, the wolves sing to each other in the darkness, their voices carrying across the snow-covered peaks.
Exhilarated, I run faster as the forest opens up before me, letting my wolf finally, finally be free.
My muscles burn and my lungs ache. I run until complete exhaustion consumes me.
Then, covered in sweat, I return to the apartment complex and my human form.
I take a few minutes to catch my breath, wiping sweat from my face.
Once my breathing has steadied, I re-dress, my entire body warm and relaxed. I feel like a new man. The expansive woods that surround this small town might just be the key to my healing. For too long I’ve kept my wolf contained. Imprisoned. Now, after one shift, I feel renewed. Whole.
I took this job to redeem myself, but I’m beginning to realize there’s so much more that might be possible.
This is my chance to remember who I could have been if my childhood had been different.
This is my opportunity to nurture my wolf.
To possibly reconnect with that side of myself.
I don’t feel the need to join a pack or anything that crazy, but I would like to explore more of my wolf side.
As those thoughts warm me, the memory of the dark-eyed wolf from the bar sends a shiver through me.
I have no idea who he is or why he affected me so profoundly.
Something about him unsettled me. He was a stranger to me, yet somehow familiar.
I’ve never experienced anything like that with another wolf.
To be honest, I didn’t enjoy it much. Something about his gaze made me feel vulnerable.
That’s the last thing I want. After what happened back in Atlanta, I’ll die before I show my soft underbelly to another wolf or human.
Everyone let me down. My own partner turned on me.
My Lieutenant was more worried about how everything made him look than the fact my career was on the line.
The human I showed compassion to ended up murdering an innocent man. Both man and wolf let me down.
Coming here might help me get back in touch with my wolf, but I have no desire to get close to anyone. In the past, belonging mattered more to me. Even though I wasn’t good at it, I craved acceptance. Not anymore.
From now on I’m going to embrace the idea of being a lone wolf.