My little sister and I struggle through the swamp, our progress even slower by our lack of food, water, and proper rest for the past couple days. By the branches that snag our hair and clothes like thorny hands, roots tangling around our feet, animals slithering and darting into the brush around us, terrifying CeCe especially. Luckily, most of the big animals are asleep this time of day, or hide in the shade, only coming out when the ground cools and night falls.
But the monster I fear the most is the wolf who stole us from the only life we ever knew and murdered our parents and dog, the one which can also wear the face of a man. I keep looking over my shoulder, expecting to see him there ready to pounce. Imagining those glowing eyes as the last thing I ever see before he rips out my throat with his sharp teeth or breaks my neck like a twig. To take me down the way he did Daddy, Mom, and those poor people at the gas station. I can only hope he sleeps the day away like most wolfs do and we are far, far away by the time he wakes. He will be angry when he finds us gone. I shiver despite the heat when I think of that.
I also only have one shoe, my damaged foot screams in pain with every step I take. My still healing cheek feels raw beneath the cracked clay, and I scratch at it, the same goes for my collection of bug bites. I’m starving, thirsty, exhausted. But I don’t dare slow to pluck wild berries for fear of giving the monster a chance to catch us. I’m afraid. But I force myself on, the tiny hand clinging to mine gives me strength. I have to get CeCe somewhere safe. We will run into a gator hunter out here, I’m sure of it. He will have a big gun and a boat, and we will escape from the monster.
She is being such a brave, big girl, not whining, but matching my pace the best her little legs can, though I know her belly aches as much as mine and her scratches sting and burn from the sweat which soon covers us both. It is only morning, but the day is already hot. We find some relief in the shade of the trees, but the air is too thick and humid around us to provide much comfort. I give her drinks from the canteen and take a few sips myself though we both spill it down our chins as I’m too afraid to stop running.
When we come to water in our path, I poke it with a stick to check how deep it is before I pack CeCe on my hip and cross. It is too shallow for a gator, but other things I don’t want to think about lurk in the dark, rotten water. I cringe and bite my lip to keep from crying out when something bumps against my leg. I stay calm and cut across the bog as quickly as I can without dropping CeCe. I don’t know what I’ll do when we come to deeper waters where gators lie and wait beneath the surface, because they will not flee from me like they did the wolf. I know they don’t typically attack humans, unless they are very hungry or threatened, but I do not like my odds in a swamp filled with them.
I set CeCe back on her own two feet on solid ground. Well soggy ground anyway, as it moves like a sponge beneath our feet. She hasn’t said anything since last night. She follows me quietly, which unsettles me more than if she were throwing a fit. She is miserable, her lips are cracked, she’s starved, and she is caked with dirt and grime, and yet she doesn’t say a word. She should be whining and asking me lots of questions and begging for something to eat. But instead, she follows me like a little robot.
At least until my little sister senses the monster is near before I do. She grabs my hand tighter and starts to whimper. I ask her what’s wrong, thinking she is scared by a snake or other creature out here, but she doesn’t answer. My heart bounces roughly against my ribs and I look around to see what causes her latest terror, but I can’t see anything obvious. I pull her along quicker as her fear is catching and my legs shake a little more. Animals begin to scatter into the thick undergrowth, the bushes shake, and the water on the edges of the path ripples. I have to pick up CeCe when her legs seem to stop working, but mine aren’t working much better.
I do not see the wolf until he lands in a crouch in front of us. His head is down, his fangs bared in a snarl, his fur standing on end. He is so big he blocks out the sunlight, casts me and my sister in a dark shadow. When he lets out a howl, my shock fades and I stumble. I never even heard him coming. Down I fall and a scream rips out from my throat. CeCe lands on top of me and I can feel her body quivering. I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight. I know I can’t run away; the monster has already caught us and he’s too fast and he’s going to kill me now and CeCe will be all alone with him.
He moves in closer until his snout is just above my face, I can smell the dead things on his breath, feel as his saliva hits my cheek, his sharp teeth are only inches from my neck. He growls and I scream again. This time I close my eyes because I’m too afraid to watch him tear my throat out. To feel his fangs ripping my face off. His hot breath continues to hit my cheeks as I squeeze my eyes tight to keep them closed, and I think my heart is broken because it doesn’t seem to be beating right. CeCe’s heart is working too much as I feel it pounding frantically against my belly. I wait to die.
But the wolf doesn’t sink his teeth into my neck. Instead, his fangs chomp down on my dark hair, and he begins to drag me back across the swamp. I refuse to let go of my little sister, even as the pain in my scalp wants me to grab onto my hair to keep it from tearing out. The sticks and other plant life are rough against my back as the monster pulls me towards the shack by my hair. CeCe clings to me and shrieks. I want to be strong for her and not cry, not scare her anymore, but I can’t stop my own tears and screams. The knife is still in my pocket, but I can’t get to it, and I don’t think it would hurt the monster, but only make him more angry.
The tension on my head and neck is suddenly lessened and when I look up again, it’s a man towering over me now and not the wolf. I shudder.
“Thought you could run away from me, little bitch, to take what is mine! Just like that whore of a mother of yours! I’ll teach you your place is at my feet, to obey, to bring forth my cubs, to serve me like a good she-bitch is supposed to. You belong to me! Bitches must be trained and broken. I can see I’ve been too easy on you. That ends now!”
I whimper as he reaches down, and this time grabs me by my hair with his hands rather than his teeth. He jerks me to my feet and CeCe falls from my arms. The monster winds my hair around his fist tightly, leaving me at his mercy, and with no choice rather to follow where he leads. CeCe scampers behind us and I can hear her harsh breathing, the remains of her cries. I stumble and struggle to keep up with his quick steps, and each misstep causing my scalp to feel the sting of it.
We hadn’t made it very far I realize. We never really stood a chance of escaping the monster. He can hear everything and smell everything and he’s way too fast. It was a fairytale I made up in my head that we could run away from him and be safe. Now I’m suffering for that fantasy, for enraging the monster, and I’m scared CeCe will be punished for it too. Stupid, stupid me! I beat myself up over my stupidity as he drags me across the rotten porch of the shack. What does he intend to do to me now? Will he claw me again or beat me? Starve me or make me eat raw things or bugs?
He throws me to the hard floor once we are inside. I curl in on myself and tremble awaiting my fate. Awaiting my punishment. CeCe is too scared to move much and cowers in a corner, trying to make herself look small and not be noticed by the monster who looms before me.
“What…what...are you…going…to do…to me?” I whimper out.
“What I should have done from the start. The best way to train a disobedient bitch. Remind her of her place.”
He walks across the room and grabs the rope the trappers left behind in this cabin. I can hear my own ragged breathing, my blood pounding in my ears as he fashions the end of the rope into a loop. Almost like a noose. Does he mean to hang me? I can’t make sense of how hanging me would help me learn to obey. To be good. Dead people can’t do anything. What use would I be to the wolf dead?
I try to crawl away from him as he forces the rough rope down over my head. It scratches and is itchy right away as frayed fibers bite into my skin.
“Please…I’ll be good…I won’t try and run away ever again…I’ll listen to you,” I beg.
My tears and snot soon meet the rope tied around my neck. But the wolf ignores my pleas and tightens the rope. I immediately feel like I’m choking, and I try and loosen it, but I can’t get my fingers under it enough to pull it away from my throat. I panic as I fight for air, as my lungs burn, as I claw frantically at the rope. He picks up the loose end of the rope and ties it to the bedframe. I can’t breathe. I try and gasp air down my throat.
“Stop struggling, little bitch. The more you struggle, the tighter the rope will get.”
I’m dying. I’m dying. I’m dying. I want my daddy. I want my mom. I’m dying.
Suddenly, the wolf lifts his nose into the air, inhales deeply, and his demeanor changes again. His fangs are showing and he growls before his eyes start to burn. CeCe cries out from her corner, both because the wolf is going rabid again and because I’m still choking in painful breaths.
“Stay!” he snarls.
Then the man’s body changes, and he is covered in fur, so quickly my eyes can barely track the shift, and he’s out the door in his werewolf form. After several seconds of him being gone, CeCe crawls across the floor and latches onto my leg, most of her body hidden beneath the rusted bed frame. My fingers shake as I pull the knife from my pocket. I know I can’t cut the rope completely off or the monster will know. But I need some room to breathe. I try to fight down the panic, slow my breathing, and steady my hand as I hold Daddy’s pocketknife near my throat. I start to cut, soon nicking my skin, but I don’t stop until I feel the tension on the rope release some and I can take a normal breath. My throat is already raw and burning from the rope.
Outside the wolf howls and CeCe flinches and tightens her grip around me. I rub her hair the best I can around the mud and tangles. I don’t know where the wolf is gone, but I hope he never comes back. He’s tied me up like a dog. No worse than a dog because we would never even have treated Max this way. I keep the knife in my fist. One day I will kill him. I’ll shoot a silver bullet right through his black heart. If a monster hunter never comes to save us, I will become one myself.
All my aches and pains are forgotten as I chase the scents and the screams. The rogue’s scent is so fresh and heavy in the air, like a rotten taint, he must be close by. Our pack stays alert, searching for any signs of him, any disturbed moss or snapped twigs, or rustle of an underbrush too large, any whisper on the wind that tells us our prey is here. It is likely the dishonored one is trying to lay a trap for us, because he is not the type to run from a fight. But he will try and even the odds, separate pack members to pick us off and play to his strengths. The rogue is fast and fights without mercy or honor, many do not see him until he is already upon them. And by then it is often too late. But our hunter band is the best among us and we are superior, we can best the feral and avenge the moon. He will fall on this day.The smell of his cub and human mate also fills the swamp air and they too must be near. We pick up their tracks in the soggy ground, small human shoes, and one litt
I have lots of questions for the wolves, but every step I take is so much agony, its hard to focus on anything else. I bite my lip bloody to keep from crying out, but sometimes I can’t help but wince, and stumble when I step on something sharp. Every time I falter or hiss with pain, I feel the brush of fingers against my back to steady me, I hear the brown-haired wolf, no Slade, suck in a breath between his teeth. But still, despite the sweat that coats my brow, and the tremble of my body, I pull myself up straighter and continue down the path we make through the soggy ground and dark waters.River carries CeCe up ahead, naming the things we see around, the types of trees, wildflowers, the creatures we encounter in the underbrush both big and small. He knows a lot about the swamp. He plucks a salamander from the mud to give us both a better look and encourages us to feel its smooth skin. CeCe does so, but I shake my head, as I know this isn’t a picnic in the woods. I ache in so many p
As I stand running a hand through my hair in the girls section of Walmart, I realize my decision to have River stay with the girls, was a hasty one and I’m clueless and so far out of my element. My cousin would have been much better at this task, seeing as Riv has a little sister, my cousin Lark, whose ten now. I know nothing about girls clothes or sizes. And now I’m regretting my decision to leave him to watch over the Cross girls all because I didn’t want to be left alone with my mate. She’s the most intimidating, perceptive, and terrifying creature I’ve ever met. And she is all of eleven, weighs less than an unsheared sheep, and is very, very human. If my pack knew, I would never hear the end of it.Our hunter band left the vehicles in the parking lot of a twenty-four-hour big box store where they’d be unlikely to get towed. That would be some serious explaining to do if our rides got searched and we’d likely wind up on some terrorist watch list. Not that a werewolf can stay in pri
I feel so embarrassed when Slade wakes me up later that night, that I can barely look at him. I got snot and tears all over him earlier, I cried like a baby, but I couldn’t hold it inside anymore. He doesn’t say anything about me using him as a teddy bear and a tissue. He apologizes for waking me up and tells me it’s time to bandage my cut-up foot and eat something. I’m too sleepy to argue with him, my eyes feel dry, and I know I must look awful, so I self-consciously smooth down my hair and make sure I don’t have any dried drool on my face. I wonder when I started caring how I look in front of him. I know he doesn’t see me in that way, thinks of me like a pain in the butt little kid more than anything else, but still I care.River smiles at me next to a box of pizza. CeCe is already seated at the table, eating a slice with sauce on her face, her little legs dangle off the chair, and I can’t believe I didn’t wake up when she got out of bed. I slept like the dead, though I feel I could
Watching my mate in so much pain and terror, nearly wrecked me, and I knew I had to do something. I couldn’t just sit by and let her suffer, I could feel her fear through the mating bond. I’d heard rumors growing up among the pack that not only could mates sense each other’s strong emotions through the bond, that it was also possible to conscientiously share emotions too. I didn’t think it was going to work, especially because my mate was too young to fully feel the bond, and because she is human, but I knew I had to try. So, I used a calming technique my stepmother Iris taught me back when I was at the height of puberty and learning to control my merge with my wolf, to open myself up to connect with the moon and nature, and I sent those feelings of calm and peace through the bond to Sloane.The serene smile on her face afterwards, the calming of her breaths and heart, proved it worked, and only then could I relax myself. I didn’t much like feeling I’d just emotionally manipulated my
I dream about my wolf every night. These dreams started not long after I moved to Shadow Ridge a decade before, and they began innocent enough back then. My wolf, with the emerald eyes and frosted grey fur, would walk by my side in the forest beneath the stars, keeping me safe as I chased fireflies, watched shooting stars, and picked wildflowers by moonlight. But as time went on, these sweet dreams turned into anything but innocent and now I look forward to them every night. And tonight, doesn’t disappoint.My wolf comes to me in the moonlight. I stand in the forest in a sheer white dress, my feet are bare, and the grass feels cool and soft against my naked feet. The night sky is clear, the stars dance bright, too many to count in a thousand lifetimes, the moon luminous and full, but my wolf is the most beautiful thing in this forest. I get lost in his eyes of green, feel the softness of his fur, as he nuzzles against me. Then my wolf merges into his human skin, and he stands before
My mate is horny. Normally that’s one perk of the mating bond, I enjoy and fully open myself up to. Every night, I dream of her, my dreams being the only place I’ll allow myself to have my mate. In my dreams I fuck her, I hold her, and make love to her. My dreams are the only place we can be together. Most mornings, I wake up either hard or with cum soaked sheets. When I feel arousal through the bond, I know didn’t originate from myself, I’m usually more than happy to participate. In the moment, I think of her, and I pump my cock, I send thoughts of lust and desire, my own arousal through the bond. I usually cum when I feel her climaxing. Only after, does my mind wonder if it’s another wolf that has my mate so turned on, if another man fucked her, and I feel the jealousy and anger. Both emotions I will never act on as I let her go and rejected the bond. She is free to fuck whomever she wants. My wolf side is not in such an agreement though. Her feelings of lust and desire, I don’t us
It’s still a couple hours from when my alarm will ring, but after what happened with Basil, I can’t fall back asleep. I replay it in my mind and only end up feeling worse. It’s official, I’m a bitch, perhaps unlovable, and I will likely die alone. Even my sweet little boy will grow up and leave his mama someday to live a life of his own. I’m not ready to face any other aspects of my life at the moment, so I leave my bed only to grab some ice cream, and my tears flavor the pint. I curl back up under my sheets and eat the whole damn thing. I hug my stuffed bumble bee to my chest as if I was ten again. If Mom could see me now, she’d be disappointed, especially since I stain my sheets with the chocolate. She always liked things clean and orderly. The older I get, the more I miss her, and find myself needing her more and more than I did when I was little. So many things we never got to talk about, so many questions I never got to ask her, advice on how to bring down a newborn’s fever quic