Chapter 13
The path was familiar now, easily navigated even in the dim light filtering through the trees.
As I walked, I mentally reviewed my notes for tomorrow’s lecture—“Transformation Narratives in Global Mythology: Symbolic vs. Literal Interpretations.” My students had no idea their professor had firsthand experience with the subject.
The cabin welcomed me with familiar comfort. I lit the fire Rafferty had prepared earlier, shed the ceremonial robe in favor of more comfortable clothing, and settled in with a glass of Rafferty’s favorite whiskey to wait.
It wasn’t a long wait. Barely an hour had passed when I heard the distinctive sound of paws on the porch, followed by the special door latch being activated. Rafferty padded in, looking thoroughly pleased with himself.
“Good run?” I asked, setting aside my book.
He nodded, crossing to lie at my feet, his massive head resting on my lap with familiar weight. I stroked his fur, feeling the damp evidence of exertion beneath my fingers.
“Show-off,” I murmured, correctly interpreting his satisfied expression. “I’m sure you were the fastest.”
His huffing laugh confirmed my assumption.
We sat in comfortable silence, the fire crackling as I continued to stroke his fur. Eventually, he lifted his head, looking toward the bedroom with clear intent.
“Subtle,” I commented dryly.
He stood, stretching in that way that somehow bridged canine and human movement, then headed toward the bedroom, pausing to look back at me expectantly.
“I’m coming,” I assured him. “Though I feel obliged to remind you that interspecies relations are not on tonight’s agenda.”
The wolfish expression he gave me somehow perfectly conveyed his thoughts on the matter: Obviously not, you ridiculous human.
I followed him into the bedroom, where he immediately hopped onto the bed we’d reinforced specifically for nights like these. He curled up on his side of the mattress, leaving space for me beside him.
This had become our routine during full moons—I would join him in wolf form for comfort and closeness, then be awakened by his transformation back at dawn for more… intimate connections. It was unorthodox, certainly, but like everything else about our relationship, it worked for us.
I changed into sleep clothes and slid into bed beside him, immediately enveloped in supernatural warmth as he pressed against my side. His fur was soft against my skin, his breathing deep and even.
“I love you,” I murmured, the words coming easily now after months of practice. “All of you.”
He made a rumbling sound deep in his chest, then gently licked my cheek—the closest approximation to a kiss in this form.
“Yes, yes, I know that’s disgusting,” I said, wiping my face while failing to hide my smile. “Some of us maintain hygiene standards regardless of form.”
His response was to deliberately lick me again, making me laugh despite myself.
“Menace,” I accused fondly. “Absolute menace.”
He settled his massive head on my chest, golden eyes watching me with unmistakable affection before slowly closing in contentment. Within minutes, his breathing deepened into sleep, the day’s exertions catching up with him.
I remained awake a while longer, one hand stroking his fur absently as I contemplated the strange, wonderful path that had led me here.
Six months ago, I’d been determined to disprove the existence of the Guardians of the Green.
Now I was intimately entwined with their future leader, participating in their ceremonies, documenting their history.
Life, I reflected as sleep finally claimed me, had a curious way of transforming expectations into something far more magical than imagination could conceive.
I dreamed of running through endless forests beneath a silver moon, a russet wolf always by my side.