Heart of the Wolf

Werewolves sounded like big cats when they yowled. A sound which was half-man and so deep that it shook the bones and reverberated in every direction.

Wild Thing prowled between the thick conifers in search of her sister. Sister subverted the idea that werewolves were loud victors and quiet hunters. The sound cut, and Sister rushed from a jut of terrain above her, kicking up dirt and dead leaves which rained down on Wild Thing. Sister chuffed in greeting, and Wild Thing sneezed in response before she shook herself.

Moonlight broke through the towering evergreens and caught Sister's deep reddish-brown coat as she stood bipedal. She was larger than an average female werewolf, standing at nine-feet, but had the same slim build and broad head. Sister's tail was sweeping the floor and relaxed, without the usual curl of confidence.

Wild Thing chuffed and leapt onto the ledge to see what had caught Sister's interest. On the nights surrounding the full moon, it was Wild Thing who was at the forefront, but she was more than an animal. Human intelligence glinted in her yellow eyes. She was no less capable of critical thought than her human counterpart, but she lacked the same sentimentality. Wild Thing compartmentalized creatures and people into three categories: threat, non-threat, and ally.

Smoke danced down the mountain, far enough that it was outside their territory. Opposite direction from their den. Probably human. Not near enough to be a threat. Not worth the calories it'd take to eat them. Humans were a non-factor to Wild Thing, but Sister had always been more territorial. She canted her head, cocked an ear to listen, then snorted. Sister wanted to investigate, but they wouldn't have the time to do so and make it back before sunrise.

When Wild Thing turned to follow Sister from the ledge, the scent beyond the smell of smoke stopped her short. She could read the distant presence of a male werewolf. She stood and peered around, her keen eyes cutting through every shadow cast by the trees. Sister stopped and looked up at her. Her ears twitched with interest. Wild Thing's nose was superior to Sister's, and Sister had long ago learned to trust Wild Thing's instinct.

Sister mimicked Wild Thing's posture, standing perfectly still, with her ears swiveling as she listened. Nothing. Only the distant chatter of nocturnal critters and a low, coke-bottle whistle brought on by the wind and trees. Wild Thing hesitated before she dropped to all fours and jumped to the ground. Sister hesitated, still listening, then went on.

The pair had spent the night traversing their territory and strengthening the borders against would-be intruders. If there was a werewolf nearby, he had not stepped foot in their land.

Sister ran and Wild Thing followed into the pitch black, until light cusped the horizon in splashes of pink and red, and the wolves slept, satisfied with a night of activity.

When they returned to the perimeter of their home, Senna won control over Wild Thing and started the shift back to human skin. When flesh shrank and fur pulled back into pores, leaving her bare and pink as her body contorted. The pain was so excruciating that Senna and Calla could only groan.

Calla could push herself and quicken the change, but Senna had never been successful in doing the same. The harder Senna forced it, the slower her change became. The fear that she would be stuck between forms, with her body misshapen and in agony, was so great that she couldn't relax. When all her will was gone and she had overextended herself, her body froze, teetered, and the change reached its tipping point. It happened all at once, and her body snapped into place. Pain mixed with pleasure as the change completed.

She collapsed to the ground, sweaty and breathing hard, and skin so raw that even the air stung. Senna's change took upward of fifteen minutes, but Calla was already human. She'd changed fast enough that she had time to compose herself and waited. Calla knew how long it took Senna's pain to subside before offering her a hand, and Senna took it. Calla changing first and picking Senna up had become a ritual.

They were silent the few yards back to their house, where clothes waited for them just inside and the familiar scent of home eased Senna's sore muscles. Calla went to take a shower, readying herself for her day shift at the coffee shop in town ten miles down the mountain. Senna didn't have to worry about rushing. She worked remotely.

Senna waited on the couch, having only dressed in her underwear to keep from dirtying her fresh clothing. Calla was drying her thick hair with a towel when she exited the bathroom, looking as grumpy and exhausted as she had before she went in. "Let's try to hold off on changing tomorrow night."

Senna's eyebrow nearly rose off her forehead. It was uncharacteristic of Calla not to give into the pull of the change on the nights before and following the full moon, when the wolf was close and a change was likely, but not guaranteed.

"Don't think I can go another day without sleep," Calla grumbled. She threw the now damp towel at Senna.

"I'll change and look for the werewolf I smelled if we don't run into him tonight." Senna caught the towel and set it at her side on the beaten couch.

Calla shook her head, face impassive. "I don't want you doing that without me. Either we both change or neither of us does."

If another werewolf had lived nearby when Calla and Senna first looked at the property six months ago, both would have known. There weren't enough werewolves for Senna to feel comfortable chalking it up to a coincidence, and Calla's face told Senna she was thinking the same thing.

"Maybe we should move," Senna said.

"And let him win? Fuck no. Try to get some rest. We both don't need to be tired tonight."

"I'll try." But Senna knew she wouldn't be sleeping. Between the full moon and their unwanted guest, she was restless.

Calla snorted and nabbed her keys from the bowl by the door. "Call me if you see anything."

Senna tapped away at the keys, reading her email over several times to get the tone just right. Professional communications were the only human interaction she had since her and Calla's change five years ago. It'd have bothered her had she not been an introvert. It suited her better than monster hunting ever had.

She sent off the email and collected her coffee to prepare for work. Senna leaned over her desk to open the window so the smell of the wild would consume her. Fresh air was the greatest perk of living on the side of a mountain. The smell of pine was near overpowering, but through it she scented animals and a familiar musk that churned her stomach.

Senna froze and took a concentrated sniff, closing her eyes to focus on her nose. Werewolf. Male. Same as last night, but much closer. Smoke and cologne overlaid the scent, but she recognized it all the same. She and Calla had left their old lives behind--Senna had left him behind--but here he was to ruin every bit of personal growth she'd managed.

Even a state away, he'd been too close, but in her front yard, it was like he was breathing on her neck. Senna cursed and snapped the window shut. Not that it would help her. He must have already known she was there. There was no other reason he'd have come. She growled and beelined for the door.

Wes had his hand up to knock when she threw the door open. They stood, waiting for the other to react first. His shoulders relaxed, and he put on that amiable smile that had melted her the first time she'd seen it. Hell, it melted her now. And angered her. She couldn't tell whether the irritation came from her or the wolf; she felt equal parts both right then, just as Wes was equal parts terrible and wonderful.

"I thought you wouldn't open the door." He shoved his hands into the pockets of his oversized light jacket, waiting for her to collect herself.

Had he waited until Calla was gone, or was Senna attributing maliciousness to him where there was none? Nothing in his body language suggested awkwardness, which struck her as strange, considering their last encounter.

Senna leaned against the door. She'd kept it half closed, ready to snap it shut at a moment's notice. Senna never knew herself more than when she was with Wes. She knew that if he asked to come inside, she wouldn't deny him.

Wes motioned to the door with his chin. "Can I come in?"

Senna opened the door and stepped out of the way. She felt numb, as though her actions were not her own. She was a puppet on a string. Even her voice had become lifeless. "I made coffee."

With the door closed, the house was too small. He encompassed all of it with his presence, with the familiarity of his scent, and his smooth voice. Wesley kept his hands in his pockets as he moved around, looking at the sparse decorations and striped wallpaper peeled with age and water damage.

"Just move in?" All those years in the city had not softened his drawl. It used to drive her crazy.

"No." Senna drifted across the living room to the kitchen, passing him without a glance. Her mouth was dry and her step so light it felt like air. Senna was sure she'd fallen asleep at the computer and was now stuck between dream and nightmare. "It's been a long time."

"Wouldn'ta been if you hadn't changed your number." He watched her intensely, but nothing in his voice or posture suggested anger.

Senna never gave him her back, though she desperately wanted not to face him. "What are you doing here?" She prided herself on the strength behind her question. It lacked Calla's sharpness, but Senna's anger had never been as drastic as Calla's; it took longer to spark.

"Tryin' to talk to you, if you'd let me." He glanced at the door, then back at her face and locked his eyes with hers. "I've missed you."

There was a hollowness to the statement that struck a nerve. Wes was a good liar in that he used half truths and kept his voice modulated, but like any wolf, Senna could smell a lie and even a skilled liar couldn't stop biological reactions like increased pulse or pheromones.

"How did you find us?"

The kitchen had an off-color, empty spot between one counter and the fridge that Senna thought would have made the perfect place for a back door.

Wes made a point to stop watching her. He raised a hand from his pocket and swiped his fingers through his dark, shaggy hair. Senna noted he was looking a little worse for wear these days, with stubble and dark circles under his eyes. Without his eyes trailing her every move, Senna felt comfortable enough to get herself a glass of water and downed half of it. She gave him a wide berth as she returned to the door, the one entrance in the house. Running would have been a coward's move, but she'd have sooner been a coward than a captive.

"Your parents miss you," he said, while examining a crack on the wall.

She snorted. "You don't like my parents."

"Is that supposed to stop them from missin' you?"

Senna debated whether opening the door would have been rude. She regretted her decision to close the window. The house could have done with a little fresh air. "Why are they talking to you?"

Wesley turned to face her. He'd given her his back, which was as comforting as it was insulting. To be given a vulnerability like that, she'd have either had to be family or weak, and Senna would not have called Wes family. Not anymore.

His eyes shifted, and he blinked lazily. "There's been some trouble. I was hopin' you might talk to them for me."

And there it was. Her brows knitted. Senna had not spoken to her parents since she'd been changed. And maybe they missed her and Calla, but if they had, they sure as hell hadn't bothered to reach out.

"And say what?" Senna almost crossed her arms, but stopped herself. She needed those hands free, just in case. "What kind of trouble are you talking about?"

Wes took a non-threatening step toward her, but one warning look from her stalled him. Wes frowned and exhaled forcefully. He should have been the nervous one. He was asking a favor of her, after he'd wronged her and found her against her wishes.

"I want you to tell them what happened between us was an accident."

"But it wasn't." And Senna knew that not because Wes had ever changed his story, but because she remembered his excitement the night he changed them. She tried to recall what lie he'd told her to brush it off, but came up empty.

His answer was immediate, his voice gruff with indignation. "It was. I know I fucked up your life, and I've apologized more times than I can count, but don't make me out to be some mustache-twirlin' villain."

"I never said you were." Senna couldn't tell whether it was her growing rage or fear that choked her. Backed into a corner in her own home and alone with a man she thought she'd never have to see again.

"But you were thinkin' it." His nostrils flared and Wes shoved his hand back into the pocket of his jacket and pressed until the material stretched. "They've got it out for me after what happened, so I need you to tell them it didn't happen like they thought it did. I'm going to get kicked out of the city, Senna. Do this for me and I won't bother you guys again."

"You shouldn't be bothering us now. And even if I wanted to help you, I haven't spoken to them since the 'accident'."

"Don't say it like that. It was an accident." He took another step closer to her. Senna bristled at his audacity, but refused to back away.

"You need to go now." Senna reached for the door, but did not turn to look at it. She missed the handle a few times, but eventually found the knob and turned it.

Wesley glanced at the door and pressed his lips together.

She needed space from him. This was her place, and he had invaded it, and her wolf was fuming and the air was thick with emotion. If he wouldn't leave, then she would. She'd get far away, lick her wounds, and wait for Calla to help her be rid of him.

Senna yanked the door open and sidestepped until she felt confident enough to turn from him. When Wes' fingers curled around her wrist, Senna turned and swung. Wesley released her and retreated before her fist connected with his jaw.

"Don't fucking touch me." She bared her teeth at him, a gesture that might have looked humorous on a human face, if not for the malice in her brown eyes, which had flecked with gold.

He threw his hands up defensively and took a few steps backward. It appeased the wild part in her enough that she didn't consider following him to press an attack. That, and Senna was no fool. In wolfskin, she stood a better chance of hurting him, where a lucky strike with claw or teeth could tear him open. But in human form, she was at a disadvantage.

"I'm sorry," he said when his retreat had not wiped the anger from her face.

Senna wouldn't turn from him now, nor would she back away like prey in her own damn territory. She said nothing; she wouldn't give him that. If Wes wanted to speak to her, he would have to keep the conversation alive without her input.

He dropped his hands to his sides and huffed. A pregnant silence settled between them. Senna wondered when he'd give up and leave. Calla wouldn't be home for hours yet, and Senna now knew that Wes counted on that.

Wes huffed again, but this time amusement tinted the sound. He smiled, almost coyly, off to the side. "Do you remember our first date?"

The question disarmed her. A frown replaced Senna's sneer. "It wasn't really a date."

"Guess not." He turned that smile on her as it transformed into a grin. It made him look youthful and good-natured. "But you were all cute first day on the job."

Senna couldn't keep from flinching. She'd not been cute, she'd been naïve, and she wished every day that she'd let Calla handle his case. Calla would never have accepted his invitation for coffee. She'd have never fallen into his bed. And she wouldn't have let him inside today, not without intent to kill him.

"I meant it as a good thing," he said as he examined her face. "You were better than the rest of them, you know? You really cared."

"Thanks for reminding me," Senna growled. "Anything else you want to push my face in?"

Senna promised herself that no matter how many times Wes apologizes or how much his smile arose soft feelings in her, that he wouldn't win this battle against her, as he had so many times before. She wanted to pace and work off her excess nervous energy, but she didn't trust that Wes would keep away from her.

"I didn't know they'd kick you out." Again, he drew closer to her. Senna debated whether she would run from him or fight if he invaded her space again.

"Why would knowing have changed anything? It was an accident, remember?"

Back then, the Regulation Assimilation Taskforce Inquisition of the Occult, RATIO, had just joined the government. They couldn't afford werewolves, or any supernatural creatures, in their ranks. And to this day, Senna had never heard anyone but mundane humans joining them.

"Christ, Senna." He breathed out. "I didn't mean it like that. I just thought--"

"That parents would choose their children over their jobs?" She shouldn't have engaged him. She knew that before his expression mellowed again. He'd gotten a reaction out of her. He'd heard the pain in her voice.

It hadn't surprised Senna or Calla that their parents had turned from them. RATIO itself was a maladapted family, at least to those who'd been part of it before it assimilated.

"I don't wanna sound like a dick, but you never wanted to be part of RATIO, anyway. You still doin' that cybersecurity thing?"

"White-hat hacking," she corrected offhandedly. Again, Senna kicked herself for responding to him.

"Enjoyin' it?"

"Wes, I don't want to talk about this. I don't want to talk at all." Senna pinched the bridge of her nose so she could rub the corners of her eyes to stave off the sting of frustrated tears.

She'd spent the last half year pretending there'd been no life before lycanthropy. Senna had just started getting over shit. She'd started enjoying her new career, and the life she and Calla had made here. She'd made the mistake of believing they'd found a forever home.

Wes approached her, looking ready to spring back should she try to strike him again. And when he was standing right in front of her, Senna thought she might. Weariness had replaced anger. She wanted to crawl under her comforter and sleep this moment away.

She hadn't yet passed the threshold of the door, and Wes reached around her and closed it. Senna leaned away from him and used the door to support herself. Wesley didn't back away, instead he pressed a hand on either side of her head and dipped until his forehead rested against hers.

And the tears came. Because Wesley reminded her of every terrible and beautiful thing in her life. He was every milestone that had led her to this moment, and his scent and the warmth of his skin against hers were painful reminders.

"I'm sorry." His voice was rich and husky, though Senna wasn't sure she read remorse in it.

"Why?" Senna didn't notice her tears until they'd dripped from her jaw and chilled against the ambient air. Wes pulled back just enough to cup her face and brush a few stray tears away with his thumbs.

Wes didn't look her in the eye. When he paused, Senna wondered whether he'd give her a proper answer. She'd asked him the 'why' so many times before that it was almost mechanical now. A dance between them that ended the same way every time.

"I thought we'd be together forever." His voice was soft, but was it genuine? She sensed his pain, but she didn't believe it was regret. Her nose was good, but emotions were more complex than their base components. She read sadness on him, but it could have meant anything.

It was half a lie, but closer to the truth than Senna had ever come before. To Senna, there was something off about Calla having been collateral. Calla had rarely spent her time near Wes, even if that was where Senna was most days. And Wes had always shown remarkable control, even on the nights of the full moon.