Scarred Wolf by Charlene Hartnady

18

Everleigh

It happened again. It freaking happened again!

One minute I was jogging along the sidewalk, setting a cracking pace, the next minute, I was bounding on all fours, feeling the wind in my fur.

My fur?!

Okay, sure, he warned me about it. And after this morning, I knew something crazy was going on with me. But to realize how out of control I really am…

I feel like I’ve lost my mind.

Once I was in wolf form, instinct took over. I’m freaking out a little, but who can blame me?

Jaxon’s jacket is warm around my arms, and the firm pressure of his hand against my shoulder is strangely comforting. I inhale the scent of him on the fabric that is wrapped around me, hanging onto that strange sense of familiarity. He’ll keep me safe…I pray.

People are passing by in a blur. There had been so much noise. Such insanity. All I remember was standing in a clearing surrounded by running, screaming…prey. I’d been so hungry. Starving. Even now, I feel my mouth watering at the thought of—

The thought of what? Eating a pedestrian? For god’s sake, are you mad, Everleigh?

We’ve hurried along the sidewalk and now I’m facing the front of my apartment building. Jaxon is pushing me into the lobby toward the elevator, where everything is now blissfully quiet. As we disembark, he stoops to snag the key from beneath the mat, and I remember telling him to leave it there when I left in a rage less than an hour before. When I was just plain old Everleigh Miller, and not some freak of nature.

Or was I? Was I ever just Everleigh Miller?

He closes the front door behind us and we stand silently in my apartment again. He leaves the lights off, and I don’t move to flick the switch on either, leaving the room bathed in the glow of moonlight streaming through the vast windows I love so much. It feels right somehow.

“You need answers,” he says, and I nod mutely, allowing him to lead me to the sofa beneath the window. I’m still naked beneath his jacket, but it’s the least of my worries. He turns toward the kitchen, and I hear him rifling through the cupboards as I slump down on the seat. He returns with a tumbler half-full of amber liquid and I clutch the jacket around me and reach for it, noting how dirty my hand is. Hardly surprising; I’ve just been running barefoot through the streets. The whiskey burns a trail down my throat as I take two long gulps.

He lowers himself to his haunches in front of me. Even hunched down, he’s still imposing, yet there’s a wariness about him. Is he afraid of me?

“I’m a…a wolf? A werewolf?” I say, trying not to shudder at the image.

“You’re a wolf shifter,” he says. “You’ll probably have heard the stories.” He’s told me this much before, but it doesn’t make sense.

“I…” My voice is hoarse. I clear my throat, take another healthy swig of whiskey then carry on. “I read stories. Watched movies.” I shrug. “The usual. I thought it was just some sort of urban legend. Something make-believe. Howling at the moon, being chained in dungeons to avoid bloody rampages through villages…” I shake my head and he’s smiling slightly and shaking his head too, but it’s not enough to set me at ease yet.

“You’re different from a werewolf. You have control over when you choose to shift.”

Really? Right now, I feel completely out of control, but he’s going on and I need to hear what he has to say.

“Your DNA is different. You’re part wolf, part human, with all the best elements of both species.”

“Nothing feels good about this,” I whisper. “I don’t feel like I can control myself, or anything else.”

“That’s because you’re still young. Young as a wolf. You haven’t learned to channel those urges yet. It comes with time and practice. Once you’ve learned to understand your power, and how to use it, it comes as naturally as breathing.”

He’s moved to his knees in front of me, his body almost brushing against mine. Maybe he’s trying to show some measure of concern, or trying to set me at ease, but I’m growing increasingly aware of him, his scent. I rub my face with a filthy hand; I look down at my dirty feet. My bare feet. “My sneakers,” I whisper.

“They’re gone,” he tells me, unnecessarily. I think I see his mouth twitch.

I shake my head and then meet his eyes. “It just doesn’t seem real. How can it be?” I say hoarsely.

He shakes his head. “We’re real. As real as anyone you know. Most of us simply prefer…to stay out of the limelight.”

“So, you’re a wolf too?” I ask. Of course. I’ve suspected something along those lines. I don’t know much about the paranormal, but I am certain he’s no ordinary man.

He nods, confirming my suspicions.

“Do all wolf shifters…” I struggle over the words. “Do we all go through this?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes,” he replies. “For most, it’s easier. They have the pack to guide them. We all reach our prime at twenty-five. It is the way of it.”

“Prime?” I frown.

“Our first shift. We go from pre-wolf to full-blown wolf. Some have it easier than others. You’re having a tougher time than most.”

“Why?” I ask, still trying to take it all in. The longer he sits in front of me, the harder I’m finding it to focus.

“Because you’re special.” His voice is slightly husky.

“But I don’t understand. Why wasn’t I raised…by wolves?”

Fuck! Did I seriously just ask that?

“Your parents were part of our pack, but they were exiled before you were born,” he says.

“Why?” I ask again. That word is starting to become a big part of my vocabulary. Along with “how,” and “what the fuck!”

He shrugs. “I was a child,” he answers, and I guess he’s saying he was too young to remember. “I can’t provide all the answers.” He shakes his head.

What does that even mean?

More secrets?

“And you came here to do what?” I change tack. “To help me? To guide me through the process?” I pray this is the case because otherwise I’m screwed. He glances down and is silent for a moment, then looks up again.

“I suppose you could say that,” he says slowly. I know there’s more he’s not telling me, but for now, he’s answering some of my questions, and that’s a good start.

“Then what next? Do I just wait until it happens again and pray I’m not out in a crowd when it hits? I was so…” I don’t want to say it, but I have to, “hungry.” My hand is shaking when I raise the glass to my lips. “Oh my god, what happens if I’m with my patients. Am I going to… Am I going to eat one of them?!” I want to vomit, and it doesn’t help that it looks like he’s trying not to laugh. I take a big gulp of the whiskey and almost gag. I lick my lips instead.

He brushes his fingers across my cheek, his skin hot against mine. I wish he’d stop touching me because it makes it hard to think. “You’re not going to eat your patients, Evie.” I can definitely hear a chuckle beneath the words. “But we’re going to need to manage your situation. Right now, you’re operating in primal mode. Your instincts are still base. Shelter, food … procreation.” He glances around the room. “You have shelter under control. The wolf wants its other needs met.”

My eyes widen. “But I have a fully stocked refrigerator!”

Now he really does chuckle. “If you’re talking about the green sludge you swallow every morning…yeah, no. That’s not going to cut it.”

I remember the iron tang of the steak I ate at the restaurant and feel my mouth begin to water. But he hasn’t yet explained the other one of my “wolf’s” needs. “And…procreate?” I leave the question hanging. My eyes feel huge.

He shrugs. “Feed or fuck. Those are your priorities. You need meat, and a mate. You won’t rest until you have them. There’ll be more nights like this, going out hunting. Until your hunger is…satisfied.”

I want to recoil in disgust. He’s talking about me as if I’m an animal.

But that’s exactly what I am. Earlier tonight, what started out as a jog became a headlong race for…god only knows what, I’d just needed to feel free. I’d felt my limbs changing, my muscles strengthening, my skin tingling as fur sprouted. I saw my reflection in the windows of the stores I ran past. I’d met my own eyes and known that the creature staring back at me was…me. In that moment, I hadn’t been disgusted. I’d reveled in the power I’d felt. I’d been ravenous. And yes…I’d wanted sex. I wanted it so badly that I’d burned with need. The way I’m beginning to burn now.

For god’s sake, stop it, Evie!

Stop!

Just…stop!

Without seeing myself, I know my eyes are glowing and I see Jaxon’s nostrils flare. My fingers are tightening on the whiskey tumbler, and I empty it quickly to distract myself. He takes the glass from my unresisting fingers.

I whisper, “What do I do now?”

“We manage it, Everleigh,” he says softly, his fingers moving from my cheek to stroke my hair from my face. “I’ll help you sate your hunger.”

I frown at the tender gesture. A week ago, this man was the biggest jerk I’d ever met, and now he’s my salvation? I don’t buy it. There’s more he’s not telling me. I wish my mind wasn’t so fuzzy.

“Why would you do that?” I ask. Stupid question…he’s a guy offering to help me “scratch an itch.” It hardly needs rocket science to figure it out. I reach up to brush his hand from my face, but somehow my fingers curl around his wrist and I’m not letting go. I see him swallow thickly, the gesture moving the skin of his throat, and my eyes drop to the pulse beating there. I can hear that pulse running through him. I can hear the blood surging through his veins. If these thoughts had entered my mind before today, I’d have voluntarily had myself committed. But my whole world has changed in these last few hours. Everything I’ve ever known about the world has been turned on its head. My eyes are still trailing down, and I notice the top buttons of his shirt are missing from where I’d torn at that shirt before, when we’d been in the taxi.

“To keep things safe,” he says, and I have to work hard to remember the question he’s answering. “It’s my mission to keep things safe.” His voice is husky and his eyes have taken on a silvery glow. “I’ll do what I must to ensure that happens. I’ll help you through it, Everleigh. Just tell me what you need.”