I freeze in a patch of moonlight spilling through the trees, gasping for an entirely different reason than being a jilted mate. This voice—it’s different. It’s not Caden’s, nor mine.
Then I sense her. A blurred figure emerges within my mind’s eye in an unhurried four-legged trot. A wolf.
This has to be a hallucination. The rejected bond has to be triggering this. My chest heaves as I wait for the mirage to clear. But—no. She’s really there, truly part of me.
I can’t believe it. I actually have a wolf?
This means I’m not Wolfless. But why couldn’t I sense her within me before?
My throat tightens, picturing the horrible sight of Dad when he died. Maybe the emotional stress kept her locked inside me, blocked from emerging.
All this time I’ve believed I was broken as much as my packmates did, but I feel her now.
With a hitched breath, I take in the deep red fur sprouting on my arms, my nails darkening as they lengthen into sharp points, the seams of my clothing tearing as my human form becomes something I’ve never experienced before.
Something I never believed I would ever experience.
I’m not dying from Caden’s rejection…I’m shifting for the first time.
Yes. Shift, my wolf urges with an insistent yip, pawing at our mental connection. Need to run. Time to run, race, leap.
For a beat, I’m frozen. I’m mid-shift without any idea of how I’ve accomplished it while my emotions were overloading. With the awareness of my new ability, the discomfort hits me in full force, knocking the wind from me with a fresh wave of tears.
I don’t know what to do. I’m stuck.
She pads in a circle, then I feel a strange invisible nudge that inspires my instincts. I stop fighting and let go of logical thought, focusing on the pull of the moon.
My lips part in awe as I go through the rest of the transformation.
It hurts like hell, but my nerve endings are so battered that the discomfort becomes a dull throbbing that’s easily ignored once it’s over. My perspective changes as I rise on four shaky legs.
Everything hits my senses at once with more intensity—so much to smell and hear and see. A whole new view of the world to explore.
It all blurs together, the scents of the earth and grass beneath my large paws, the bitterness of the smoke coiling from the bonfire and the warmth of the burning logs, the savory roasting meat that makes my mouth water. Packmates, so many pack scents it’s difficult to pick them apart until I hone in on the one I’ve always been able to recognize.
I shy away from the inviting notes of smoky forest, fresh springs, and the overpowering sharpness of smoldering cedar that’s so strong it makes me sneeze. The tail takes me by surprise when a tickle at the base of my spine results in it swishing.
My attention catches on Caden one last time. His hard expression is unreadable. The bond gives a feeble pulse in my chest, pulling a soft whine from me.
Mate, my wolf senses.
I toss my head in refusal. Again, the tattered bond tries to connect with him. No. He hurt us.
I never believed this moment would come, peering at him through my wolf’s gaze. He holds it until I lift my head and let loose a somber howl to the moon.
Every shifter I know has some sense of their connection to their wolf before their first shift. The fact I’m meeting mine at last thanks to him causing us this heart-wrenching sadness sours my first time with her.
Turning my back on the clearing, I leap over a downed log and run into the trees. My control slips away, the wolf taking over for me. My steps lose their uncertainty, becoming a confident stride.
As much as I want to shut everything out to enjoy my first run with her, I’m still aware of every inch of growing distance between me and the male I don’t want to think about anymore.
A distant howl sounds from the commons once I’m further away.
He might have ruined what fate wanted to gift us, but he’s not overshadowing this.
The woods smell richer. Alive and thriving, teeming with so much I take for granted every day. The soft dirt gives way to my bounding paws. Bushes caress my flank when I wriggle between them. I splash through a pond, pausing when I feel the scales of a fish glide past me. My ears prick and I still, caught in a long stare into the water.
I snap my teeth, but the fish escapes the clutches of my jaw. A lively bark escapes me, sending a vibration of energy through my body. I shake it off and jump out of the water, moving to the edge of the pond.
The reflection of my wolf is beautiful. She’s a sight to behold in her roan coat and large clever gold irises. She’s so much bigger than I ever expected or hoped for. No one will cross a wolf this size and hope to get away unscathed.
The prospect of fighting something excites her. I trot away from the pond, picking up speed into a loping run. This is amazing. I’m flying through the trees, covering so much ground in a short period of time.
Every sensation is a new revelation. I love this. It brings a renewed appreciation for the mountain to experience its beauty like this.
The thunder of others makes me hover between the trunks of two large trees. The pack is running together. The urge to join them tugs at me. I lick my lips with a whine.
My wolf wants to be with them, as she should because they’re pack, they’re hers. I stop her from following them. No, it’s safer here. We’re better off on our own.
I lower my nose to the ground, snuffling through dead leaves and underbrush to follow a tangy trail that snags my attention. I lick up a crunchy bug on the way and pause to paw at a worm before continuing. The trail leads to a scat pile.
Internally, I grimace while my wolf does her thing. When I listened to people talk of hunting, the details of the mechanics didn’t occur to me.
Circling the area, the same sharp tang wafts through the trees in another direction. I pause, ears swiveling to take in the rustle of branches in the wind, the trickle of a nearby stream, and—there. Prey dashing through the woods.
I crouch low and stalk. When I cross an old fallen tree from the high vantage point to lower ground, I smell a rabbit. It’s digging nearby. Though I’m careful to approach, it freezes, thumping the ground with its back foot to warn off others.
Impatience gets the best of me. I dart for it, lengthening my strides when it gives chase. Just as I think I have it, the rabbit swerves to escape my jaws. I jump into the air to pounce on it, sliding down a slope when I hit a pile of decaying leaves.
My wolf chuffs at my clumsiness, tugging control back from me. My laughter becomes a series of yips from our upturned snout. Our tongue lolls from the side of our mouth.
Then I scent oakmoss, and a cooling breeze through the midday sun in the high field, and fresh cut cedar sticky with sap. Caden.
Once I hone in on his scent, the whole forest smells of him. He’s in the trees and the dirt, at the water’s edge where he’s stopped to drink before, the traces of him fading. He’s everywhere around me.
Mate.
No. He’s not ours. We don’t want him because he doesn’t want us.
My wolf doesn’t understand. If he doesn’t want her, why did he attack the offensive male? She liked that. He is strong, a good fighter. She scents the air to find which direction he’s in. To see his wolf and run with him.
No, I growl.
She flicks her tail at me, pacing through a patch of ferns. There’s something she’s focused on, but I can’t figure it out.
With the reminder that Caden’s out there somewhere, the aching throb of the incomplete bond returns. I stagger, flopping to my side, panting deeply. My wolf doesn’t like this feeling. Her annoyed rumble becomes a drawn out somber howl.