Chapter Twenty-Two
T he ten other witches were waiting for us when we arrived.
They were deep in preparations, sitting in a circle of chairs in the meeting room around a large wooden table. The cold, calculating solemnity of it all reminded me of the war rooms I’d seen illustrated in my fantasy novels.
An old map of Wisteria Grove, yellowed and peeling at the edges, was splayed in the center of the table. There were long stretches of strategy, explanation, and sometimes debate, with the witches occasionally pointing to different areas of the map.
But their fingers always returned to tracing the same line around the village, over and over again. The ward. A magical barrier; one that Willow, as the resident warden witch, created to keep non-witches out.
Except for Big Red. The unruly werewolf that was, for some inexplicable reason, able to break through.
And they were the target of our mission that night.
Mariah spotted us as soon as we walked in, and as she greeted us with a wave as nine other heads swiveled in our direction. Adrian also waved. Willow and Mabel smiled. But everyone else wore stony, scrutinizing glances.
While everyone continued strategizing, Adrian stood up and led us to an empty office at the opposite end of the hall.
He unlocked it with a small silver key, and once we were inside, I could tell the space hadn’t been used for quite some time.
The desk was bare, not a single paper or trinket in sight, and the sparse office furniture was shoved in the far corner.
And in the closer corner, leering like a wrought-iron demon, was Rowena’s cage.
Adrian and several other witches had shown up earlier that afternoon to retrieve it.
A young male witch had used his levitation powers to bring it all the way to town hall, where it was placed in this empty office.
As far away from the meeting room as possible.
“I’ll leave you both to it,” Adrian nodded. “Good luck.”
I gulped. I’d heard that phrase far too often over the past few hours.
Adrian closed the door behind us. There was a faint jingle of keys, and the click of the lock snapping into place was followed by soft footsteps as Adrian returned to the meeting room.
I couldn’t hide it. I was shaking. Rowena noticed this, and she wrapped me in a warm, deep embrace.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “You can do this.”
I felt like a coward. Here I was, terrified to do something that Rowena had done once a month for her entire life.
Pull yourself together, Nettie.
Because despite my fear, this was still the easy part. My true task, the one that could potentially kill me, was yet to come.
The minutes passed.
Silently. Slowly. Painfully.
Yet Rowena and I remained, still in our human forms, locked together in the iron cage.
Rowena had tied the key in a knot around one of the bars at the back of the cage.
She said it had been her secret trick for years.
Werewolves were intelligent, cunning creatures, capable of great feats in their wolf forms. But Rowena claimed no matter how fast or strong a wolf may be during the full moon, they were still incapable of undoing a well-tied knot.
“Lack of opposable thumbs and all,” she gave a faint chuckle, but I couldn’t bring myself to even smile at her joke. I was too nervous.
Our hands were clasped, fingers interlaced like woven threads. Our palms were wet and clammy, yet we still squeezed them together as if they were our only lifeline.
It was the only thing keeping me sane. The one bit of solace I found in being locked inside a metal crate like an animal, right before the full moon, was that Rowena was right there next to me.
But it was still a risk. Once we inevitably transformed, we didn’t know how our moon-glowed selves would react to each other. We were intimately familiar with each other’s scents, but we were still from separate packs, and had never endured a full moon together.
We could harm each other.
Or worse.
But it was a risk we had to take. There was only one crate.
Rowena’s hand began to shake. I squeezed closer to her, wrapping my other arm around her thin body to offer her comfort. But in the process, I realized my own hand was shaking.
It’s time .
Unlike our regular wolf shifts, which happened as swiftly and naturally as breathing, full moon transformations could be uncomfortable. Painful, even. Something about our bodies being forced to shift against our will seemed to pull us apart from the inside.
Rowena hissed through her teeth, her breathing coming in rapid pants. Her trembling hand was still interlocked with mine, and I could feel those pretty purple nails changing. Lengthening. Sharpening.
“Fight it,” I whispered. “Fight it as long as you can.”
“I will,” Rowena replied, her teeth still grating together. She lifted her free hand, which was trembling like a leaf in the wind, and stroked my red hair.
Hair that was already turning into fur.
“You’ve got this.” Rowena whispered.
Then she kissed me.
That was the last thing I remembered before everything went black.
Wisteria Grove. The café. Rowena.
Even my own name.
They all flew out of my mind, like loose papers caught up by the wind. Scattering in a million different directions.
Every time I tried to think, to remember who I was and how I ended up in this crate, my thoughts fell apart. They writhed and collapsed and twisted on top of each other until nothing made sense.
All I knew was that I was no longer Nettie.
I was something else entirely.
A light appeared. Bright as the full moon. So bright it nearly blinded me.
I tensed my muscles, becoming more aware of my form. I had four paws, a coat of thick red fur, large pointed ears, and a long snout full of sharp teeth.
And I was hungry. So hungry.
I needed to eat.
Now.
A shout rang hollow and distant in my ears, like I was hearing it from miles away.
I ignored it, hunger clawing at my stomach, impatience causing me to clench my fangs.
Thoughts came in singular words.
Hunt. Eat. Run.
“Nettie!”
The shout was louder this time. Loud enough for me to understand what the person was saying, even if I no longer recognized my own name.
Through the blinding white light, a shadow of darkness appeared. It took shape, slowly, transforming from an amorphous blob into the faint silhouette of a human.
I growled.
“Nettie!” The voice pleaded again. The human’s facial features came into view. It was a female, thin and pale, with a hooked nose and dark brown eyes.
Her arms were on either side of me, her fists latched onto the fur around my neck.
I wanted to thrash. Howl.
How dare this human restrain me.
“Nettie…”
That word.
It sounds familiar…
“I need you to listen to me, okay?” The woman continued. I bit back a growl, and when my muscles tensed, she only gripped me tighter. “You can do this. Breathe.”
A stray sentence fluttered into my mind, settling atop my brain like an autumn leaf.
In through your nose, out through your mouth .
I didn’t understand what it meant, or why I needed to do it. But I did remember it was important.
“That’s it,” The woman whispered soothingly as I went through the breathing exercise. “Good girl. You’ve got this.”
The woman leaned forward, until her forehead was nearly touching mine. That was when I noticed the black fur spreading up her arms. The way her deep chocolate eyes turned wild and animalistic, and how her furry black ears twitched atop her head.
“Please, Nettie. I don’t have much time. You have to do this. Remember who you are. Remember us.”
Nettie .
I knew that name.
And I knew this woman, too. Her scent was warm. Familiar. Intoxicating. Flashes of her bare skin, her slender figure, and her petite beasts made me shiver with pleasure. I saw a sunrise atop a mountain, two lone women sitting in the grass, pretending the rest of the world didn’t exist.
I felt happy.
And most importantly, calm.
Rowena…
I promise…
I can do this…
The white light faded. The scene before me grew, with all the shapes and details coming into focus.
Rowena gazed at me with loving concern, a sparkle of hope in her eyes as she watched the moonglow fade away.
Behind her were roughly-woven iron bars that completely engulfed us, and beyond that were the bare off-white walls of a nondescript office.
I remembered now.
We were locked in one of the town hall offices. Then locked again inside this cage. I’d just shifted as the full moon took effect, and…
I paused.
That was when it really sank in that I’d done it.
I’d used my empath powers to regain my humanity and stop my full moon frenzy.
I fell forward, fumbling back into my human form and using my palms to catch myself. I was trembling, overwhelmed with both exhaustion and relief.
But I was also laughing. Joyous, proud, almost maniacal laughter.
I couldn’t believe it worked. Using my powers on someone else, when I was already calm, was one thing. But this? I may have been the first werewolf in history to pull myself out of my own frenzy.
All my life on Hollenboro, I’d never been able to do this. Granted, I didn’t need to. It was so easy to just let the moonglow overtake me and run wild and delirious with the rest of my pack. On that island, it was just us. There was no one for us to harm. There was nothing for us to lose.
But leaving the island changed everything. The full moon had been the crutch holding me back the entire time I was in Wisteria Grove. It was what made me lose my humanity and become a danger to every non-werewolf around me.
But now, I felt powerful. I’d overcome the wretched curse of my heritage.
Nothing could stop me now.
“Nettie!”
Oh crap .
My name was Rowena’s last word, her last grip on her witch form, as the remainder of her flesh was engulfed by black fur. Her feral eyes widened; the pupils rapidly adjusting to the white light that began to emanate from them.
No . I scowled. Not you too .
I hoped bringing Rowena back would be easier than reclaiming my own mind. After all, I’d calmed her down once before.
And Rowena and I had a bond. A relationship. Which made it easy to flood her mind with happy memories of us, reminding her who she was before the light of the full moon started pulling her under.
Her mind immediately softened to my prodding, offering no resistance. I knew it was because of her feelings for me. But I wondered if it was also because the real Rowena was still in there, deep down, fighting this with every fiber of her being.
When the light finally faded from her eyes and she collapsed in her human form, my arms were there to catch her.
“N-Nettie,” Rowena’s tone was gentle but bleary. “You did it!”
“Sort of,” I scoffed, giving her a loving smile. “The real challenge is still ahead of us.”
I cupped her cheeks in my palms and kissed her. Just for a second, since the arrival of the frenzied werewolf pack was imminent, and the other witches were waiting on us.
But it was enough. Enough to fill my heart with happiness. Enough to leave me optimistic and hopeful.
We’d made it this far.
We had to finish this.
Rowena knelt next to the lock, undoing the intricate knot with precise twists of her fingers. She explained that her mother had taught her this knot when she was young. Even as a child, Rowena had always tied a key at the back of her cage. Just in case.
The heavy cage door swung open, its eerie metallic creak echoing through the bare, silent office.
But the sound filled me with more relief than discomfort.
“I’m going to shift again,” I told Rowena once we’d both exited the crate. “When I do, get on my back.”
“Your back?”
“Yes. I’m going to be much faster in my wolf form than you will be in your human form. And–” I peered out the tiny office window. “–I don’t want to waste any time.”
“Alright.” Rowena nodded, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.
We left the town hall and stepped outside, the bitter nighttime breeze blasting us in the face. Rowena pulled her cloak closer to her body, but I let mine blow in the wind. I wouldn’t need it in a moment – wolf fur was a far better insulator than anything human-made.
I shifted with ease, the moonglow no longer in my eyes, and Rowena unsteadily climbed onto my back. Werewolves were only slightly larger than ordinary wolves, but we were a lot stronger, and I had no trouble carrying Rowena’s weight.
She settled herself in, like a horseback rider in a saddle, rubbing the thick ruff of fur around my neck.
“You know, I could get used to this,” she commented.
I tilted my head back and gave her a funny look, as if to say, What do you mean?
A devious grin crept across her lips. “Riding you.”
I grumbled, shaking my head and neck so red fur flew all over her dress. She scowled, and if I had been in my human form, I would’ve laughed. It wasn’t the time for such jokes, but the suggestive comment still sent a burning warmth pooling into my belly.
I stepped forward, signaling to Rowena I was about to take off, and she gripped the fur around my neck tighter.
Hold on, my girl.
I started off at a trot. Once I was confident that Rowena was comfortable and had found her seat, I accelerated to a hard canter.
Before long, I was at a full gallop, weaving between trees as maple leaves fluttered beneath my stomping paws. I felt the previously tense grip of Rowena’s calves lighten against my flank, and I realized she was enjoying this.
In all my years as a werewolf, I’d never ridden one. Rowena likely hadn’t either.
But despite the impending danger of where we were headed, I imagined it was fun. I peered over my shoulder and noticed Rowena’s short black hair whipping in the breeze, her posture straight and her eyes wide and alert.
“It feels like flying!” Rowena exclaimed joyfully, peering down at my wolfish head.
My heart filled with warmth again, and for a moment, I forgot how dangerous this insane plan was. Because right now, running through the woods on the way to Wisteria Grove’s eastern border, it was just the two of us.
I promise, Rowena. No matter what happens, I will never forget this moment.
I will never forget us.
In the distance, I could see the former pumpkin patch. It was now an unused field, full of fallen leaves and bone-dry, yellow grass. And on the far side of the field, bordering the forest, I could see the silhouettes of the other witches.
Then I saw a burst of fire. And a large rock flying out of the ground, hurtling toward a dark mass of figures emerging from the woods.
My stomach dropped in horror.
We were late. The werewolves were already here.