“You feel her?” Orion whispers.
“Yes.” I glance at him and see my eyes in the window’s reflection. They’re glowing a luminous blue. I check my wolf, pulling my magic back inside where it belongs. Guided by something bigger than myself, I follow the commands in my head.
A fundamental change is coming in my life, and I’m not ready. The dreams I’d suppressed and run from in my youth are coming back to bite me in the ass.
“I’ve had them too,” I say quietly as we leave the populated city behind and move into rural spaces.
“The dreams?” Orion asks.
“When I was younger. The dreams were terrifying. Dreams of battles and darkness threatening to swallow Wolf Canyon whole. Our parents thought they were night terrors. I never corrected them.”
“I remember that,” Orion shifts in his seat. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was always afraid sharing it would somehow bring them to life. I thought the coupe might’ve been the event I’d tapped into.” I trail off. The sense of an impending storm continues to hover in the distance.
“You know our father’s site has the line. He always said you had grandmother’s eyes. Maybe that’s not the only thing you received.”
“I’d settle for Dad’s skill with his hands,” I mumble.
We don’t always get what we want in this life.The amusement in the heavily accented female voice is startling.
“Did you hear that?” I ask
“No, but I believe you did.” Orion’s easy acceptance amazes me. I’m ready to check myself into a psych ward. “We turn into wolves, Lev. Is a goddess interacting with her creations really a stretch? We’ve gotten so detached from our roots that we’ve forgotten what it is to be shifters. We’re not humans—.”
Thwack. A tiny form explodes in blood and black feathers.
“The hell?” I stare at the crow remains splattered across the windshield. A cloud drifts over the sun, casting us into shadow, and I watch as a black storm cloud reveals itself to be a flock of birds. The wrongness twists my guts into knots. I steer the car off-road as my hackles rise.
“We have to get out of the car.” My voice is already deeper as my vocal cords shift. Malevolent and dark, the energy speeding toward us means to harm. This form is stronger than a normal human, but we must take a defensive stance. Slamming the car into park. I rush outside and bolt for the woods, shedding my clothes as I strain to hear anyone that might be present in the woods.
The stench of rotten meat and sour milk. I gag. Bones crack, and my body contorts as I let go, allowing the wolf to surge to the forefront. Orion loops beside me, a tawny-colored wolf with a white belly just a tad smaller than my muscular frame. Pitch black with a white chest, we contrast.
A flash of white stands out ahead. I turn to Orion, and he snuffles. He saw the white wolf too. The urge to follow is too intense to deny. I run forward, taking the lead as my paws strike the forest ground. A sweet, pure scent overpowers the smell of decay.
Traveling through the forest, we chase the white wolf who continues to stay ahead of us. The feeling of danger retreats as we move deeper into the forest. The rhythmic movements and rightness that always come with running in the forest as a wolf remove all previous concerns. My heart lightens, and I realize it’s been months since I ran like this. Orion barks, and I return the sound, sharing the joy.
We cross through a clearing, and everything changes. Shadows drape over trees and land where they shouldn’t be. The sour smell of something gone bad returns full force. Slowing, I examine the area as I take cover in a brush. The white wolf turns and yips, running towards us and back to her spot. She wants us to follow. Unable to ignore her desperations, I follow once more. We break out of the forest across a road. A floral odor hits me, and then I see the sea of lavender swaying in the wind.
The plants’ fragrant perfume wars with that of decay. A woman in a wedding gown flees toward the center, away from men in black suits. One grabs her upper arm and yanks. Jerking back, she throws her weight to the side, breaking his hold. She drops into the purple flowers, and a nasty growl climbs out of my throat.
Barking, I leap through the stalks, landing in front of her. Lowering, I snarl at the men who jump back. They smell like a wolf, but not. Lowering my body, I snap my teeth at them. Running to the left and right, they try to box me in. Orion joins me, barking and snarling. Together, we force the men to back up
“Those aren’t normal wolves.” One cries.
“Why are they here? Who did she call?”
The woman has risen to her feet and continues to run.
“I don’t know, but we can’t win this.”
“I’m not going back without her.” The tow-haired man shouts.
He reaches inside his jacket, and I strike, sinking my teeth into his hand. I shake my head back and forth, shredding his flesh and biting down on the bone. I rip a chunk of flesh from him as I send him flying. His cohort turns and runs, and Orion chases him, ripping the seat of his pants as he draws blood.
Watching the man retreat, I keep an eye on the man on the ground. A weak growl leaves his throat, and his body convulses. I back up, watching his pitiful attempt to shift. Bones break and reform, and he yells in pain. The sound becomes a strangled cry as fur sprouts from his skin, leaving him in a twisted, half-human, half-wolf shape.
The form happens when people are gravelly injured or young and learning. That this man is like this makes no sense.