Chapter Twenty-Five #3
My mother then called for my sisters, who came running over from where they’d been fraternizing with our cousins, and my grandfather gave them the same warm, crushing hugs. Abbey even squeaked out that he was squeezing her too tight.
I peered over at Rowena, who was still chatting with her father. But next to him were three other pack members – a kindly middle-aged woman with bright-blonde hair, and two teenagers, a boy and a girl, who looked remarkably like Rowena.
I nearly gasped aloud, my breath catching in my throat, as Rowena gave the younger teen a hug.
Rowena’s stepmother and half-siblings .
It would’ve been her first time meeting them. And they seemed happy to be meeting her, too.
But then I turned around, and I noticed my father was hanging back, still on the other side of the ward. He watched us all with a grin on his face, but I could tell by the way he shoved his hands in his pockets and shifted his weight from one foot to the other that he was nervous. Uncomfortable.
My mother noticed me staring at him. Then my grandfather did, and he returned my father’s sorrowful smile.
“William, son,” Alden announced. He had an incredibly deep, booming voice, with a heavy Maine accent. “I promise we ain’t gonna hurt ya. Yer family, too.”
My father nodded, but still didn’t step forward.
“Will, please,” my mother pleaded. “My father isn’t upset with you. That was so many years ago… I know you tried to help me. This isn’t your fault. Just please…”
It was the tears welling in my mother’s eyes that finally convinced my father to step forward and join the rest of us. And I gave him a quick hug as he did so, reassuring him that like the rest of us, he belonged.
When my mother first told the story about her illness and how she’d escaped Hollenboro, I couldn’t help but feel resentment toward my father.
Him barring my mother from leaving the island seemed so cold and callous.
He hadn’t made her illness worse on purpose, but his rule was what drove her deeper into despair, and it made rage bubble up in my stomach.
But now, I knew my mother was right. My father didn’t know how to help my mother at the time, but he’d still tried everything he could think of. He had fought for her, even when the rest of the village didn’t.
He didn’t lock down the island to hurt her. He did it because he was afraid. He didn’t want to see my mother accidentally hurt anyone, because the entire village would face consequences if she did.
He wasn’t the villain in this.
No one was.
“Nettie! Nettie!”
The crowd of cousins that had previously swarmed Alice and Abbey were now charging in my direction. I shouted and waved, overjoyed to finally be meeting all of them.
They responded by tackling me in a dogpile.
Or rather, wolf-pile, as several of them had shifted forms. I felt clothing, human skin, and prickly wolf fur rubbing all over me, and several of my wolfish cousins had wagging tails.
I should’ve known better. Werewolves were a rough bunch.
“Guys…” I croaked from beneath the pile of bodies. “You’re… crushing me… careful with the ribs… ow!”
Thanks to Rowena and Alden’s remarkable healing skills, my ribs were nearly back to normal. I had some purplish bruises beneath my breasts, but I wasn’t in any pain, and it no longer hurt to breathe.
I heard Rowena shouting in distress from beyond my gaggle of cousins, but once the raucous group began to clear, I lovingly reassured Rowena that I was fine.
She stood with her hands on her hips, smiling and shaking her head like I was a disobedient toddler. I burst into laughter, and a few seconds later, so did she.
“Woah!”
A sudden chorus of shouts echoed from the group. I noticed several of them were staring up at the sky, pointing at the clouds.
Then I felt it.
I thought it was rain at first, cold and wet upon the top of my head. It melted as soon as I scooped it into my palm, but it had definitely been solid.
“It’s snowing!”
My sisters screamed with joy, running and jumping and trying to catch the tiny white flakes in their hands. As it began to coagulate on the ground, turning the earth from a mottled red-and-brown to a stark white, they scooped it into their palms and stamped their handprints onto the ground.
A few minutes later, they were followed by pawprints, as one by one, all of my family members shifted forms.
I couldn’t believe it.
One day after Halloween, and winter was here.
“Come on, Nettie!” Rowena joyously tugged at my arm. She leapt into the air, her flowy, dark dress a stark contrast to the growing white. By the time she landed, she was on four paws, shaking bits of snow off her inky black fur.
I shifted too, leaping into my wolf form as adrenaline buzzed down my spine and tingled the tip of my furry tail. Abbey, Alice, and a bunch of the younger werewolves were bolting around the forest, weaving in and out of the trees. Rowena and I joined them.
We started off at a canter, getting our bearings and balance amidst the maze of oak and pine trees. But as our muscles burned and our wolfish incontestably goaded us to go faster, we lengthened our strides to a hard gallop.
Faster, faster. I could feel my heart pounding and the blood rushing through my veins, from my stomping paws all the way up to the tips of my ears.
Wolves ran in all directions; dozens of them, in every color and shade from snowy white to ruddy earth tones and a few solid blacks.
Many of the older wolves had white frosting over their backs, which was further accentuated by the snow that accumulated on their fur.
I saw Rowena and my sisters up ahead, and I heard stomping paws on either side of me. I turned around and saw that I was flanked by two wolves – a large red one, and a just-barely-smaller chocolate brown one.
My parents.
And they looked just as overjoyed as I did.
Up ahead, Rowena was just a few feet in front of me, shooting flirtatious, taunting glances over her shoulder as she ran.
Daring me to chase her.
Catch her.
I adored Rowena, and I loved seeing her act so wild and free. But we werewolves were competitive, and I was not going to let her win this game of tag.
I dug deep; willing my legs to move faster, my blood to pump further, and my lungs to hold more air. I could do this. I was a werewolf – all sheer stubbornness and willpower.
I would catch her.
My teeth grazed her tail, and with one final push, I leapt onto Rowena’s back. The force caused both of us to tumble, rolling nose-over-tail and crumpling into a pile in the snow.
I extended my snout and inhaled deeply, the scent of Rowena’s fur heavy in my nose. She lifted her head, which was now covered in a soft, fluffy mound of snow, and shot me a defiant glare.
I responded by standing up and hovering over her, her exposed belly between my front paws.
I win.
And I could tell by the look on Rowena’s face that she accepted my victory. I even got a prize – a big, sloppy lick to the snout.
I would have blushed if my wolf form was capable of it. Licks between wolves were the ultimate sign of affection, typically only performed between mates.
I sighed, lifting my head to inspect my surroundings. My sisters and cousins were still running amok, but standing a dozen feet away with their wolf jaw nearly hanging down to the ground was my father.
Oh.
OH.
My fur prickled as I cringed, chuckling at the sight. I knew why my father looked so dumbfounded. He’d just seen Rowena lick me.
Oh well. I sighed. I would have a lot of explaining to do later.
I decided to be bold and return Rowena’s lick, which made my father grumble and plod off. I knew at this point, it was less about my same-sex choice of mate and more about the blatant PDA in front of my relatives.
But as my father walked away, with my mother following behind him, I caught a glimpse at the pumpkin patch through the trees. And on the other side of it, just tiny silhouettes against the town hall, were several witches.
I assumed they’d come outside to see the snowfall, but now they were watching us. I squinted. I definitely recognized Mariah, and the two figures on her left looked like Adrian and Diego.
They were watching us; a bunch of rowdy, joyful werewolves playing in the snow.
It made me smile. I wanted them to see us for what we really were, not the monsters that they always viewed us as.
But on Mariah’s right, the shorter, slimmer figure was unmistakable. She was the only witch I was aware of in Wisteria Grove who had short blonde hair.
Juniper. I couldn’t read her facial expression from here, but I could tell she had her arms crossed over her chest.
Like Mariah had said, change took time. I wouldn’t be able to win over all of Wisteria Grove in a day, and that included Juniper. Hell, it could take us months or even years to form even the most tentative of alliances between the witches and the werewolves.
But at least now, we were no longer enemies. Mariah herself had declared it.
And it made me feel the most important emotion of them all: hope.
Hope that I could balance my life between Wisteria Grove and Hollenboro.
Hope that my mother and I could meet with the empath witch in Bangor and get help.
Hope that both of us would learn to control our powers and use them for the good of the town.
And of course, my smallest but most important hope: that Rowena and I would spend that evening nestled by the fire, coffee and tea in hand, and revel in the fact we no longer had secrets to hide.
I was determined. Overjoyed. Excited.
So, I celebrated in the best way werewolves knew how. I craned my neck, tilting my head up to the sky, and letting out the most joyous, ferocious howl I could muster.
At first, it startled the rest of the werewolves, but they were quickly eager to join in. After all, it was a symbol of our unity. Our community. Our family. Before long, there was a whole chorus of howls, echoing across the forest and into the bright, snowy sky.
As a group, we were loud . They could probably hear us back at the witch cottages. I wondered if they could hear us at Bar Harbor, or even Cadillac Mountain.
I wanted all of Mount Desert Island – hell, the entire state of Maine – to hear me.
Because I did it. I saved everyone, witch and werewolf alike.
And for the first time ever, I couldn’t wait to see what the future held for me.