“It’s not enough,” one of them said. “You’ve already taken away our right to Claim her. You cannot take away our right to speak with her.”
Chills swept through me as several of the men glanced my way. Mary’s hand tightened on my shoulders, but neither of us moved closer to the door.
“Of course not,” Winifred said. She didn’t sooth or try to persuade them with words. Again, her will whipped out and tapped their foreheads, fast and brief.
She wasn’t trying to grab their will as I had. She was doing something else. Hope and excitement filled me, and I tried to puzzle out what exactly she had done.
“Have you determined an order?” she asked.
The men started shuffling and shoving. The air filled with growls again. While they moved about, Winifred glanced at me.
“Charlene, you look pale. How many do you think you can meet before you need a break?”
Zero. I wanted to finish backing up so I could slam the door shut. Instead, I studied her. Her promise to protect me hadn’t been idle. She really could control them, and I wanted to know how. Learning meant staying right where I was. So, I scanned the yard. There had to be around forty men now.
“All of them, I suppose.”
Winifred’s brows rose, but she didn’t contradict me. The first man in line stepped forward, keeping the required three feet away.
“I’m Stephen,” he said.
“Hello.”
He didn’t look familiar but stood there watching me as if expecting some type of reaction.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I said when he still didn’t move away.
He looked disheartened by my words, gave me a last look, and walked away. The next man stepped forward.
* * * *
Mary sat across from me at the table. We were supposed to be eating a late lunch. I could feel her gaze but didn’t look up. The half-eaten cookie on my plate and the flat Coke by my elbow no longer interested me.
“If you choose one, it will stop,” she whispered.
I snorted and rubbed a hand over my face. Sounds of fighting drifted in through the closed door. They fought for a place in their imaginary line up. It was as if they hadn’t heard me say I would meet them all. Their persistent fighting was turning an already long morning of awkward introductions into a longer afternoon.
Winifred seemed to have the same hesitation as I did about using her abilities to control others. She didn’t take away freedom of will, either; she only calmed the worst of the aggression when it looked like it might be dangerous to me. And, now that I was inside, there was little Winifred seemed to do about the fighting. Yet, she remained out there, probably trying to prevent outright killing.
“I doubt choosing will make it stop,” I said, keeping my voice low. “Winifred seemed surprised that two had bitten me. You made it sound like one bite should have been enough. I doubt another bite will change anything other than my willingness to stay.”
Mary sighed and agreed with me. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.” And I didn’t. I’d already asked the universe “What next?” and so far, I’d received no obvious answer. My choices, as I saw them, were limited. Out in the real world, I truly felt I’d end up as a lab rat. Here...I sighed and rubbed my face.
“Can you ask Winifred how many more are left? I don’t understand why it matters in what order I meet them.”
“Ultimately, it doesn’t. Well, it wouldn’t for me. If it’s right, it’s right. But for you, they’re worried you’ll pick someone before they can all meet you.”
I doubted that telling the men I wouldn’t pick any of them would help.
“Back when Wini was our age, she said their Introduction practices were less refined. In a few cases, females would ignore instinct and go with a stronger male that had a weaker pull on them.”
“Why?”
“Protection. We’re a dying race, Charlene. Women need to choose their best option in order to survive. Our people—like my mom—leave for hunts and never come back. Between hunters who try to shoot us, human population growth, shrinking woodlands in which we can roam, and reduced birth rates, we’re not going to last very long. Winifred gave up her chance for a Mate to protect our interests. Girls like me are few. Girls like you...well, there have never been any before. You represent a chance for all of us.”
“If you see what’s causing your race problems, why aren’t you changing your ways?”
“What do you mean?”
My mouth was open to say more, but I noticed an unusual silence outside. Mary tilted her head, and I watched her closely. Her expression remained curious as she tried to listen.
“Let’s go upstairs,” she finally whispered.
I followed her from the room and struggled to keep up as she raced down the hallway and up the stairs. The door to our room was open, and she went straight to the window where we had a clear view of the yard below. Winded, I moved close beside her and tried to quiet my breathing so we could both hear.
All the men in the yard faced the woods. I looked at the distant edge and saw three wolves. The wolves stared at the group of tense men surrounding the truck. Everyone in the yard, even Winifred, who once again stood in the bed of the truck, watched the wolves. No one moved. No one talked. The wolf that stood a half a step in front of the other two looked straight at Winifred.
My stomach dipped as I stared at the lead wolf. He had dark fur, not quite black because of the grey that scattered over his muzzle and underbelly. There was something about him that hypnotically called my attention, and I didn’t like it. Who was he? Why did he face down Winifred like that? He felt dangerous to me, most likely due to the snarl pulling back his lip.
I glanced at Mary. With a serious expression, she studied the scene before us.
“What’s going on?”
“They’re arguing,” Mary said after a moment.
I looked back at the yard. No, they were still just standing there.
“Who’s arguing?”
“Winifred and those others.”
“About what?” My voice had slipped from its whisper—I was feeling a little left out and a little frustrated after the long morning I’d suffered. One of the wolves glanced our way. I quickly moved away from the window. I didn’t need any more attention than what I’d already received.
I watched Mary’s eyes widen, and a blush crept into her cheeks.
“They’re moving,” she whispered. “They’re getting pants from the truck.” Her eyes tracked their progress, and her expression grew soft and wistful.
“He’s gorgeous,” she breathed after a moment, and I knew that they’d changed from wolves to men. I fought not to blush and lost the battle. Mary didn’t notice, though. Her eyes remained riveted on an unknown person. I totally wanted to look.
“Are they dressed yet?”
She grinned at me and nodded. I peeked around the edge of the window. The mood in the yard had changed. Those who’d previously crowded around the truck now stood well back, giving the newcomers plenty of room.
The three stood near the end of the truck. The angle of the view the window afforded wasn’t good for seeing much more than the top backs of their heads. But from what I could see, if not for their obvious exclusion, the new men fit in with the rest. Their hair was slightly longer and unkempt, they wore no shirt or shoes, and their pants were ill fitting.
Two of them were young, though. I guessed just a few years older than Mary and me.
One of them stood out. Perhaps it was because Winifred was glowering at him as he stood before her with his arms crossed. Or maybe it was the way the muscles of his shoulders bunched in agitation. Or better yet, the smooth skin of his corded back. My blush reignited as I stared.
My stomach spun and dipped again at the sight of him shirtless.