“Yes you can, it was just a dream. You’re
safe now, take a deep breath.” His voice was soothing and calm. He
inhaled deeply in effort to get her to follow his example. The
method worked and she was able to take several deep breaths until
she felt her body relaxing. “There, you see?” Tyson said.
“I’m sorry,” she said sheepishly once she
poised herself. “That’s never happened before.” Her right hand rose
to her throat.
“I believe you just had a panic attack,” he
informed her.
“Did I?” she pushed her hair back. “I feel
ridiculous, thank you.”
Tyson shrugged her thanks aside. “Did you
dream about me again?”
She sat up straight and grabbed a chunk of
hair to begin twirling in her fingers. “How did you know my last
dream was about you?” she asked suspiciously.
“It was pretty obvious how scared you were
of me when you woke.”
“Scared of you?” she repeated, stunned. “I
was
not
scared of you.”
His brow knit. “You just admitted you had a
nightmare about me.”
“Yes.” She looked away and still toying with
a strand of hair. “Not the way you’re thinking though. I dreamt the
wild dogs were attacking you, they were
killing
you.”
He fell silent a moment. “What did you dream
just now?”
“You were dying,
all
of you…and I
couldn’t help.”
“Clara, you’re stressing yourself too
much.”
“You’ve been avoiding me because you thought
I was afraid of you, haven’t you?” she asked, standing as the
realization hit her.
“Of course I have, I thought you…” he
hesitated and it was strange to see him in any manner but self
assured.
“What?” Clara urged.
“I thought you believed me to be a…”
“A monster?”
“Yes.”
She thought it ironic how he chose to keep
space between them when all she wanted was to know what it felt
like to be in the safety of his arms. She couldn’t help the small
smile that spread on her face. “I know you think being a werewolf
is awful, but you haven’t been anything that would resemble a
monster.”
Chuckling, Tyson shook his head in
desperation. “You are hopeless! You understand befriending
werewolves isn’t a walk in the park, right?”
“Danger, danger, danger!” she said while
waving her hands in the air. “I know.” She thought she’d invoked a
lecture for sure, but he only laughed.
“Where is Callan?” she asked.
“They haven’t returned, do you want me to
call him back?”
“No.” She glanced out the window as if she
might catch a glimpse of him. “I’m worried. He seemed a little put
out about Koty leaving.”
Tyson nodded.
“You were sure she was leaving almost before
she left the house. How did you know?”
He shrugged. “I could sense it, she was a
threat.”
“She was a pup, wasn’t she?”
Tyson nodded again. “Callan found her about
six months ago. Pups should have a pack, but Koty is too free
willed to let anyone guide her.”
“Do you think she’ll want to come back
someday?”
“She’s not welcome back.”
“Oh.”
“You think me callous for doing such a
thing?”
“How should I know? Do you think you’re
callous?”
He shook his head. “No, callous would have
been destroying her, which is what any other pack would have
done.”
“Kill her?”
“Yes.”
“That
is
harsh,” she said quietly and
looked into his steely blue eyes. It was hard to see anything but
determination in them. What he’d determined to do was beyond her.
Every so often she found herself searching his eyes for traces of
warmth, usually she found him unreadable.
“Dawn seems to think you forget to eat.”
“What?”
“Dawn is very concerned you don’t eat
enough. She’s in the kitchen now preparing lunch.”
Embarrassed to be discussing her eating
habits, her cheeks went warm. “I don’t forget to eat.”
“Pups like your brother eat a lot, but after our first few years,
food becomes a little less essential. We can go days without
eating, even as pups, and are none the worse. If you are hungry,
you don’t have to wait for us, help yourself to what’s in the
kitchen.”
Her face got hotter. “Thanks.”
“For now, it would ease Dawn’s worries if
you ate something.” He indicated the door, hinting they should
start down right away.
“Before that,” Clara said quickly. “I hate
to repeat myself over and over, but you implied we would see
Jothram soon after we moved to this location. We’re here now, do
you think you’ll get a chance to take me to him before too
long?”
“You’re in quite a hurry for him to
completely ruin your life, aren’t you?” he asked.
“I won’t be satisfied until this is
done.”
“We don’t have the equipment,” Tyson
enlightened her. “You need gear that will protect you from the
elements.”
“Where will I find this gear?”
He laughed. “I’ve taken care of it. The wait
will delay you from meeting your Jothram a couple days, but the
gear will be here soon.”
“He is not mine,” she snapped.
“Callan was right, you are too easy to
tease,” Tyson said and his eyes smiled. Her lips pinched together
and she all but glared. Her bravado didn’t affect him.
“Are you ready for a late lunch?”
She couldn’t say no.
Callan didn’t
return until the next day, but he was boisterous and
rejuvenated—evocative of the Callan she’d known before their mom’s
funeral. Mesha’s return wasn’t long after. Jack seemed to want to
stay in the wilderness for a time.
Tyson informed Callan and Clara what he’d
meant by Clara needing proper gear for the elements. Jothram had
gone into hiding so deep, he couldn’t be reached by car and they
would have to go on foot. She was going to ride Callan when he was
in his wolf form so they could travel faster and would need special
clothing to keep her mortal body warm.
Mesha was insistent on going as well, but
Tyson told her no. When she persisted, he said he could only take
one extra wolf and she would have to fight Callan for the spot.
Mesha looked like she couldn’t hate Callan more than she did in
that moment, but didn’t offer a challenge.
As the days passed, Callan somehow found
pink roses despite the freezing temperatures and Clara woke to a
fresh one each morning. Her brother was shockingly chipper
considering what had transpired with Koty. He went out at night and
spent every waking moment with her by day as if he too wanted to
make up for lost time. He didn’t seem to mind that Mesha hung
around pouting more often than not.
On the fifth morning after Tyson’s promised
few days, she woke with a determined mind to leave that day no
matter the cost. She showered and dressed, mentally preparing
herself to face Tyson. She marched to the window and threw the
curtains open with gusto, but the sun didn’t touch the glass. Snow
had piled so high in the night it covered the upper story window.
She groaned and sat at the window seat, punching a cushion. Tyson
would never allow her delicate mortal body out in weather like
that. Not even the happy pink rose standing fresh and tall could
comfort her. There was nothing to do except go to the kitchen and
have breakfast. Because she still felt a stranger in their world,
she tread softly. Dawn and Jack were just finishing their
breakfast. The storm cloud that usually hung over Jack graced the
kitchen as he sat hunched over the counter.
“Good morning,” she said tentatively as she
entered the kitchen. Dawn was at the stove, but turned to greet her
with her ever smiling demeanor.
“Hello, Clara dear. How are you this
morning?”
“I’m fine. How are you and Jack?”
“We are doing perfectly,” Dawn answered. “I
daresay you came in search of something to eat? I’ve some porridge
on the burner.”
“That sounds great,” she agreed.
“Sit there by Jack.” She waved a hand at a
stool.
“It’s very strange,” Jack commented in his
gravelly voice as she sat next to him.
“Hm?” she asked.
“It’s strange you don’t eat meat. Aunt Dawn
can fry you some bacon and eggs, I just had some.”
“Oh no, thank you,” she answered
quickly.
“It’s peculiar. You couldn’t get me to eat
mushy stuff.” He wrinkled his nose as Dawn set a bowl in front of
Clara.
“Just ignore him,” she said sweetly. “He’s
getting on near sixty years old, but is stuck in a teenager’s frame
of mind. I’m afraid he’ll never change his love of meat.”
“That’s alright, he shouldn’t have to,” she
said with a laugh. “I don’t think it would have mattered if he was
able to age. Callan’s twenty and still doesn’t like vegetables. He
used to say I became a vegetarian to compensate for his consumption
of meat. My father is the same way.”
Dawn laughed and Jack cracked a rare grin.
Clara ate the steaming bowl of oatmeal, then got to her feet, going
around the counter to wash her bowl. Dawn promptly took the dish.
“Don’t worry about that.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, as she did every
morning. “It’s no trouble.”
“I am sure,” Dawn assured her.
“Thanks for breakfast, it was tasty.”
Dawn smiled. “You’re welcome.”
She made her way back up the stairs,
thinking she would see if Mesha was in. All of the rooms were
located upstairs. She was about to knock on Mesha’s door when she
heard a muffled yell from Tyson’s room. She hesitated, trying to
peer through the crack left by the slightly open door. She moved
across the hall and put a palm on the door, listening. She knocked,
but he didn’t answer. She pushed the door open, tense upon entry.
Tyson lay asleep on his bed. He thrashed suddenly and moaned in the
depths of a nightmare. She went to stand by the bed and Tyson was
breathing heavily. He showed no other signs of aggression and the
nightmare seemed to have passed. The misleading stillness lasted
all of two seconds before he frowned and a growl rumbled from his
throat. His arms trembled and the pillow he crushed tore in
two.
“Tyson?” She tried to wake him with no
results. She put a hand on his shoulder to try again. “Tyson?” His
eyes popped open and his fingers closed around her wrist. He jerked
her to the bed so quickly that she almost lost her breakfast. In
the same motion he straddled her and put a hand on her throat. His
eyes were wild and tinged with gold. His awareness came from his
dream and he focused on what he was doing. He took a few shuddering
breaths and his eyes locked with hers as he leaned back
“Clara, you really are insane!” he
growled.
Callan appeared in Tyson’s doorway. “Hey
Ty—” he started to say and stopped short. “Oh, sorry,” he said then
backed out. She was amazed at his lack of concern.
“Callan!” Tyson growled. He moved off her to
try and explain. Feeling embarrassed and exhilarated all at once,
she sat up. Tyson stood in the middle of the floor with his fists
balled and his back to her. She waited, perched on the edge of his
bed, afraid to say anything.
“What were you doing?” he asked without
facing her.
“You had a nightmare,” she offered as way of
explanation.
“And what? You thought you would come and
wake me from it?” He wheeled around, his eyes still lit.
“I’m sorry.”
“You need to get out.” He grabbed her
roughly by the arm and propelled her toward the door, pushing her
into the hall. The latch clicked firmly behind her. Mesha stood
just outside her room, looking amused.
“What?” Clara asked suspiciously.
“You are brave.”
“How do you mean?” she asked in an effort to
try and act innocent.
“You went into the lion’s den, so to speak.
Do you know how dangerous that is?”
“I didn’t know I was doing anything
wrong.”
“You should realize Tyson doesn’t reprimand
you the way he would the rest of us.”
“He would discipline you for going in his
room?”
“I would never go in there in a million
years, not unless he asked me to. You’ve seen how aggressive he can
be.”
Clara nodded. “I never realized how
difficult I am to him. He’s probably about ready to strangle
me.”
“Oh no,” Mesha said quickly.
With a sigh, Clara went to her room. Mesha
followed her closely, not needing an invitation.
“Don’t worry, I know it’s hard to understand
a world you haven’t been given complete access to.”
She faltered in falling to her bed,
wondering at Mesha’s choice of words. She wanted to ask a question
that had been pestering her for some time, but she was nervous her
friend would think she’d gone mad.
“Something on your mind?” she asked when
Clara fell into a stipulating silence.
“Yes.”
“What?”
“Do you think someone would be crazy
to…
want
to become a werewolf?” she asked slowly.
“Meaning you?” Mesha smiled.
Clara drew a deep breath as if that could
draw courage. “Yes.”
“Personally, I don’t think it’s crazy. I
rather enjoy being one. Tyson would probably tear me to pieces if
he knew I said that to you.”
“He can’t hear you?”
“Not right now,” Mesha answered with a smirk.
Clara leaned forward. “Tell me more about
being a wolf.”
Mesha was only too happy to oblige, telling
her how it was to become a creature of the night when the moon
could hold you hostage for days and nights at a time, how it was
difficult to want to return to human form, how exhilarating it was
to be stronger and faster than any beast. The more Clara heard
about becoming a werewolf, the more she started to question if it
would be such a bad thing.
Clara was snowed
in for a week. The others were able to dig themselves out earlier,
but she was mortal and not allowed to do such things. They had
little choice. Callan was the youngest werewolf of the group and
the most uneasy when trapped indoors. When he wasn’t sleeping, or
with her, he was eating or out on a run. He was often so busy that
she wondered how he found time to locate her rose every day.