Authors: Rachel Hawthorne
I didn’t remember falling asleep. My last memories were of me screaming until my throat was raw and my fists pounding the earth until my hands ached. But exhaustion must have claimed me at some point because I woke up and stared at the sunlight dancing over the leaves.
I’d always loved the wilderness, but suddenly I didn’t feel one with it any longer. I thought I could hear the trees mocking me as their leaves rustled in the breeze. I didn’t know where I
wanted
to go, but I knew where I
needed
to go. I had to return to Wolford. The Dark Guardians were gathering there, in order to figure out how to protect our—
their
—kind. Bio-Chrome, a research company,
had discovered that we existed and was determined to uncover the secrets of our—
their
—ability to shift, even if it meant killing us—
them.
I gave myself a hard mental kick in the butt. I had to stop thinking such divisive thoughts. It wasn’t them—the Shifters—versus me, the non-Shifter. It was
us.
Sure, something had gone wrong, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be fixed. I had to keep my mind open to the possibility that it was some fluke of nature that could be easily corrected. Maybe my birthday was too close to the full moon and I needed another cycle to prepare my body to shift. Maybe the date was wrong on my birth certificate. God, I was really grasping at straws, wanting desperately to find an easy answer.
I knew I couldn’t tell anyone that I hadn’t yet shifted. I’d waited too long, worked too hard to finally be accepted. I didn’t want to face that I might not be a Shifter. There was another reason that I hadn’t transformed. Whatever it was, I’d figure it out.
Grabbing my nearby backpack, I headed out. I’d planned to lope toward the compound, embracing my new self, the wind ruffling my fur. Instead, I trudged through the forest, forcing my feet to move along, one in front of the other. An explanation for what
hadn’t
happened had to exist somewhere. I considered discussing my situation with the elders. They were so old that they
knew everything. But I didn’t want anyone to know the truth about me.
If they did discover the truth, they’d look at me with pity or horror. We existed alongside humans, but none of us wanted to be like them. They were pitiful creatures, Statics, always locked in the same form. They might even cast me out. I couldn’t take that risk with danger lurking. I was a Dark Guardian. It was all I’d ever wanted to be.
How was I going to look at myself the first time I gazed in a mirror, the first time I saw what I truly was—or wasn’t?
Because I was afraid the elders might send Guardians out to search for me, I took a circuitous route back to Wolford. I needed this time alone to shore up my courage to face everyone and not give anything away. It wouldn’t be easy for me. I wasn’t someone who believed in sugarcoating things. I was known for being honest and facing the reality of situations. Facing my own reality was going to be a bitch.
Few people had truly embraced me before. If they learned that I couldn’t shift, they’d view me as a freak of nature. It was bad enough that I’d received the occasional odd stare because no guy had claimed me as his mate. I didn’t want to have to endure the others knowing that I hadn’t shifted on time.
It was nearly noon on the second day when I ran
across the cold remains of a campfire on the banks of one of the rivers that ran through the national forest. My heart galloped as I knelt and sifted the ash through my fingers. I detected no heat at all, and I hadn’t noticed any light in the area when I’d bedded down the night before. It could have been several days since anyone had been here—but it felt more recent. I couldn’t explain why I had that sensation.
The fine hairs on my arms prickled as I gazed at the rapidly flowing river. It was possible someone had been rafting and pulled over here to set up camp for the night. Farther down the river was a series of tight curves and turbulent white water. It was great for sports enthusiasts, but they were usually accompanied by a guide who would turn them back before they traveled this far north, this close to Wolford.
It seemed paranoid to have a bad feeling about what I’d discovered, but I couldn’t help sensing that something wasn’t right. Very slowly and cautiously, I walked around the camp, noting the various boot prints that had been left behind. I could identify four distinct sets. It was also obvious that they’d arrived and left by the river. I discovered a groove in the bank where their rubber raft would have scraped along the ground as they pulled it onto shore.
On the opposite side of the camp, I noticed an area
where it looked as though evidence of prints had been brushed away with a leafy branch. The brush marks stopped near dense foliage. Grabbing a large stick, I began poking it around the brush. I heard the snap as I triggered a release mechanism that I’d suspected was hidden in there. The stick was jerked from my hand as the noose closed around it and the rope swung it up in the air, until it dangled high above my head, the branches shuddering with the force of being set loose.
A snare trap. One of the simplest traps to set. Still dangerous. Still capable of killing an animal—but it was also possible the animal would survive being slung around as it was lifted from the ground. Judging by the setup, it had been designed to capture a medium-sized animal. Not a rabbit. Not a bear. But a wolf.
A cold shiver raced down my spine as I backed away. I’d bet my life that I knew who was responsible. It wasn’t game hunters, sportsmen, or survivalists.
It was Bio-Chrome. Our enemy. They were stepping up their efforts to capture a Shifter and they were getting closer to discovering Wolford.
I had to get back quickly. I had to warn them. And I hoped I wasn’t too late.
I felt a sense of relief when I finally arrived at Wolford to see the main residence still standing. I saw no evidence of
violence. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
Because I’d originally been two days away from Wolford, and because I’d been dragging my feet in no hurry to get back—until I discovered the trap—it was nearly midnight the next night when I finally reached the wrought iron gate that surrounded the compound. A couple of hundred years ago, most of the Shifters had lived here, hidden away from the rest of the world. But as the world had begun to change with modernization and industrialization, they’d moved out among humans—benefiting from and contributing to achievements. Still this forest remained our true home—the one place where we could be ourselves and celebrate what we were.
I slipped a keycard into the slot and the gate clicked open. It seemed strange to me that we were a combination of the old and modern. We used keycards for access, but we still believed in the ancient ritual of guys declaring their mates. Go figure.
After walking through, I stood there while the gate clanked shut, its sound reverberating through me. I’d always found solace here. No enemy had ever penetrated our walls. Here, tradition was passed down from one generation to the next. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and tried to draw in the calm of my ancestors. But I felt unwelcome, as though I were a stranger or worse, a fake.
I wished my mother was here. I didn’t often need her. I’d always wanted to be independent, so it was difficult now to admit that I yearned to have her arms around me. I’d felt relief when she’d left for Europe because I’d known she wouldn’t be around to interfere. I hadn’t thought I’d be able to put up with her hovering and worrying. I loved Mom, but she was a hoverer. Always trying to protect me. I’d become somewhat rebellious just to break free of her emotional restraints. I knew she meant well, but sometimes I felt as though she were smothering me.
As for my father, he’d always been a no-show in my life. Apparently he’d seen my mother through her transformation, hung around long enough to knock her up, then taken a hike to parts unknown. She had managed quite well without a man in her life—which was the reason that I’d been convinced that I hadn’t needed a guy for my transformation.
I walked toward the massive mansion that was pretty much all that remained of what we’d once had here. Oh, there were a few buildings around that held supplies and various survival items, but when our kind visited Wolford, they stayed in this mammoth Gothic-like structure where families had once enjoyed a communal-like existence. It had been refurbished to include all the modern conveniences. Our elders lived here throughout the year.
Hidden away in the national forest, it provided us
with a sanctuary. The Dark Guardians worked as forest guides—otherwise known as sherpas—and kept people away from the secret areas of the forest that we considered off-limits to outsiders. Although really, we considered the entire forest as ours, even though the government had claimed part of it.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement and dropped into a defensive crouch, my actions honed by hours of survival training. To my surprise, I saw Connor heading toward a thick copse of trees in the distance. Although his back was to me, I recognized his loose-hipped stride. He walked as though he was never in a hurry to get anywhere. The moonlight reflected off his sandy blond hair and outlined his well-toned body. He was tall and slender, but I knew he possessed the strength of all Shifters. We not only hid our ability to shift, but the power that came with it. Looking at us, few people realized how strong and capable we were.
As Connor disappeared between the trees, I wondered why he was alone. Where was Lindsey? Usually a couple became totally inseparable after they shared a shifting. Could there possibly be trouble in paradise?
I wasn’t exactly sure how I felt about that. As much as I’d wanted Connor to notice me, to claim me, and go through the transformation with me, I didn’t want Lindsey to treat him badly. Neither did I want him to
hurt Lindsey. She was a friend. I selfishly wanted Connor and unselfishly wished them the best. My confused and contradictory feelings left me unsettled. As a rule, I usually knew what I wanted.
I glanced around quickly. No one else was in sight. I should let Connor go, but I’d never felt so alone or devastated in my life. I needed to connect with someone. Why not him? Just for a few minutes. It wasn’t like I was going to ask him to cheat on Lindsey. I had standards. I didn’t steal another girl’s guy—but that didn’t mean I couldn’t talk to him and get my Connor-fix.
After hiking since the full moon, I was gritty and dirty. Normally I would have taken the time to clean up because I never wanted Connor to see me at my worst, but I didn’t want to miss this opportunity to talk with him alone. Maybe because even though he didn’t feel a connection to me, I felt one to him. I was pathetic to be crushing on a guy, knowing he cared for someone else, but at that moment, I couldn’t quench my desire to hear his voice.
I tossed my backpack toward the side of the house and raced in the direction I’d last seen Connor. The dew-covered grass left a clear trail, but once I hit the woods, he wasn’t as easy to follow. The grass wasn’t thick around the trees and the moonlight filtered in sparingly between the leaves. If I’d shifted, I’d have been able to capture
his scent and follow it. All senses heightened after the first transformation. Shifters acquired keen night vision and enhanced smell, hearing, and taste. Even their skin became more sensitive.
All I had to go on was my gut instinct, so I simply kept moving forward and hoped he’d done the same. He might not be my mate, but we were friends. And right now, I needed a friend. Desperately.
The woods were never totally quiet at night and I drew comfort from the familiar sounds. The insects chirped. An owl hooted. I heard some tiny creature, probably a rodent, stirring up the dried leaves that coated the ground. But I couldn’t hear any footsteps other than mine. I wondered if Connor had shifted, if he’d taken off. But I didn’t see his clothes lying around.
The trees finally gave way to a brook where the shallow water splashed over rocks, creating nature’s lullaby. Standing at the bank’s edge, as still as a statue, was Connor.
My heart gave a little lurch, the way it always did when I first got near him. Sometimes when we were packing up supplies, getting ready to guide campers out into the wilderness, our shoulders would brush and it was like an arrow zinging through me, from shoulder to toes. Insane, I know, to be so affected by his nearness. It hurt that we’d never be more than friends, that he would for
ever belong to someone else.
If I was smart, I’d turn around, head back to the mansion, and get on with my life. Obviously I didn’t possess an ounce of intelligence because I strode forward until I was standing beside him. He didn’t look at me. He just kept staring at the water.
I had so much that I wanted to tell him, so much that I couldn’t explain, things I didn’t want him to know. Still, a calmness settled over me as I studied the outline of his familiar profile in the moonlight. His features contained a ruggedness that I associated with warriors. The strength in his jaw line was almost obscured by his shaggy blond hair that hung down to his collar. I wanted to run my hands through it. I desperately wanted to loosen my braid and have him comb his fingers through the heavy strands of my own hair. I wanted to press my face into the curve of his shoulder and have his strong arms come around me. I wanted so much that I couldn’t have. I didn’t know if I’d be strong enough to settle for friendship now that I knew he was totally and completely beyond my reach.
“Guess you heard,” he finally muttered, and I heard the hardness in his voice.
Connor was seldom quick to anger, but I’d seen his fury when we discovered that human scientists working for Bio-Chrome had found out about our existence and were determined to use us for their own gain. Connor
believed we’d somehow come out victorious, that life could miraculously return to normal. Or what was normal for us.
But now his anger-laced words caused horrible scenarios to rush through my mind. Had Bio-Chrome captured Lindsey? Was the trap I’d discovered only one of many? Had they killed her? Was that the reason that Connor was alone? Was he in mourning? Or had she not transformed? Had something been wrong with the moon? For the first time in days, I grasped tightly to a miniscule of hope that the full moon—and not me—had been the aberration.