Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Barrett

It only takes me a moment to undress when I reach the woods surrounding Whispering Pines. I fold my clothing into a neat bundle and stash them beneath a fallen tree trunk. Traveling as a wolf is faster but not a good idea with so many humans about. Now that I'm here in the forest, it'll be easier to move through the undergrowth as my beast. I stand for a moment, letting the setting sun and the light breeze touch my skin before the change begins.

My body tenses as the familiar sensations start rippling through me. I grit my teeth, steeling myself for the transformation. It's not painful, not anymore – I've done this countless times before. But it's still an intense experience as my very cells realign themselves into a new form.

My muscles spasm and elongate, bones cracking and reforming into those of my beast. Fur sprouts rapidly across my skin, covering me from head to toe. My face contorts, jaws jutting outward into an elongated snout. My ears migrate up the sides of my skull, becoming pointed and swiveling to catch every sound. I drop heavily onto all fours as my hands and feet become paws, claws extending into the dirt.

With a final shudder, the metamorphosis completes. I shake out my thick pelt, powerful wolf muscles rippling beneath my mottled gray and silver fur. My senses heighten – scents and sounds sharpen into vivid clarity. The world takes on new textures and hues through my lupine eyes. I stretch out my limbs, relishing the raw power coiled within my new form.

God, I love this.

There's nothing quite like feeling at one with the wild.

Sniffing the air, I pad silently through the underbrush, my paws barely disturbing the dry leaves scattered across the forest floor. As I get closer to the facility, the scent of the rangers drifts on the evening breeze, mingling with the earthy aroma of the pines surrounding the sanctuary.

My ears prick as I hear voices coming from the main building.

"You got the new feeding schedule?" A rough voice. Male.

"Yeah, right here." Softer, higher-pitched. Female.

Papers rustle. "They're increasing the meat quota again. Swear these wolves eat more every week."

The woman chuckles. "Can you blame them? I'd be cranky too if I was cooped up all day."

Their voices fade as they move further away. I inch closer to the perimeter fence, my nose twitching.

I pause in the thicket, my fur blending with the dappled shadows of the trees as I watch the last of the rangers depart through the sanctuary gates. Their voices carry on the evening breeze, casual chatter about weekend plans and family barbecues.

It's not long before the silence is broken. I swing my head around as I pick up the rumble of engines approaching. A pack of motorcycles roars into view, kicking up clouds of dust on the gravel path.

Now, this is different…

Rough-looking men astride the bikes whoop and holler, their raucous laughter echoing through the trees. Leather jackets creak as they dismount, the metallic jingle of chains and studs announcing their arrival.

These aren't rangers.

Tattoos snake along exposed forearms, harsh symbols and leering skulls inked into tanned skin. One man spits a stream of tobacco juice onto the ground as they swagger toward the entrance, all bravado and menace.

What are they doing here?

Unease prickles over my skin, raising my hackles as I watch them disappear inside the sanctuary gates.

They're not gone for long.

I hunker down in the brush, my fur bristling as the men emerge from the sanctuary, dragging a massive wolf with them.

Not just any wolf…

It's clearly a shifter, towering over even the largest of the natural wolves in the nearby enclosures. As it passes them, a chorus of howls and yips rend the air.

The beast thrashes, powerful muscles rippling beneath its tawny pelt as it fights against the chains binding it. Its muzzle is clamped shut, but furious growls still rumble from deep within its chest. The men jeer and laugh, prodding the wolf with electrified batons whenever it tries to break free.

White-hot rage surges through me at the sight.

I'll fucking kill them!

I tense, my claws digging into the soil as every instinct screams at me to leap into action. To rip those bastards apart and free the beast.

But I force myself to remain still, my jaw clenched so tightly it aches. As much as I want to tear into them, I know rushing in would only put the shifter at greater risk. I'm strong, but even I can't take on that many armed men alone. Not without putting innocent lives in jeopardy.

Unexpectedly, the wolf catches my scent on the breeze, and its eyes lock onto me, wild and desperate beneath the muzzle's restraints. For a heart-stopping moment, our gazes meet, a silent plea for help searing straight into my soul.

"Get along, fucker!" A jeering man breaks the moment as he jabs the wolf with the end of a baton. It roars behind the muzzle but bounds forward. They round the corner of the building and disappear from sight.

Don't give up hope!

I want to shout the words after them, to reach out to the wolf. I can't. There's no chance of it.

It takes me a second to realize that I'm panting. It's rage. My hackles are raised, my muscles coiled as tightly as a sprung trap.

I slink along the perimeter fence, sticking to the deepest shadows as I make another sweep of the sanctuary grounds. My nose twitches, sorting through the overlapping scents that linger on the air – the heady musk of the wolves in their enclosures, the chemical tang of disinfectant and motor oil, the stale reek of cigarette smoke.

Filtering through the jumble of smells, I catch the telltale odor of shifters. More than one, their scent sharp and unmistakable beneath the layers of human smells. My skin prickles with a fresh surge of unease.

They're holding others captive, too.

It's not just that one. But how many?

Keeping low, I prowl closer to the main building, drawn by the sound of raucous voices drifting from an open window. Harsh laughter punctuated by the occasional biker's whoop.

"Did you see the size of that fuckin' beast?" A gruff voice, thick with a Jersey accent. "Gonna fetch a pile of green from the right buyer."

"Heard that," another man grunts in agreement. "Boss'll be stoked if we keep bringin' in that kinda haul."

I inch nearer, straining to make out their words over the clinking of beer bottles.

"Still ain't sure how you fuckers managed to bag that monster." This voice is deeper, laced with a Texas twang. "Goddamn Lassie on ‘roids; ain't never seen a wolf that huge before."

"Nah. Nothin' I couldn't handle," the other one responds. "I just—"

"You? You didn't handle nothin'," someone else scoffs. "They've had those things locked up at Leadmills for ages."

"Yeah, well, it was me who brung ‘em over, remember? Couldn't've done it without me."

"Sure. Whatever. You the big dog handler now. Sit, heel, stay. Asshole."

"Less of an asshole than you, you dick. Didn't see ya for dust when we opened that door," the first one replies.

"Well, you can put your money where your mouth is when we track down the new animal you said you seen around." The guy snort-laughs.

New animal?

"Screw you. I got it all set up. No way it's gonna get away. Money in the bank."

My mind races at this new detail. What new animal? Are there more out there we don't know about? Are they talking about me? Can't be. I wouldn't be sitting out here if that was the case. They have their sights set elsewhere.

Raucous laughter erupts from the window, accompanied by a fresh torrent of curses and crude jokes I refuse to acknowledge. My fur bristles with disgust at their callous disregard for the trapped shifters.

"Hey, I got a helluva idea!" Jersey Voice cuts through the din, thick with malice. "We oughta make ol' Cujo there watch while we put down one of his buddies. Just for fuckin' kicks!"

My blood turns to ice in my veins as the bikers whoop and holler at the twisted suggestion. I inch closer, my muscles tensed and ready to burst into action at the first sign of danger to my kin.

"Get your head outta your ass, Flex!" a new voice responds. "We don't mess with the merchandise."

There's a mutter of dissent and then some grudging agreement. Whoever just spoke must have some sort of clout.

But I've heard enough.

There's nothing I can do here. And listening to another word is going to make me do something stupid.

Turning away, I fight down frustration at not being able to do more. I need to get back to my gear. Get my phone.

Gotta call Jagger.

I move silently away, putting distance between me and the men I'd happily tear to shreds if I could. It's a while before my skin stops tingling from the adrenaline surge caused by fury. By then, I'm back among the silent pines, the night air doing little to soothe me.

That's when the hair along my spine stands on end.

The scent of wolf hits me…hard. Warm and wild and utterly captivating.

I whip my head around, locking gazes with a golden beast standing mere feet away.

Blazing amber eyes cut straight through me. Something primal and instinctual flares to life in my gut.

For a suspended heartbeat, the world falls away. There's only the wolf and me, bound by some indescribable thread. Rational thought slips from me. My mind consumed by just one thing.

It's you…

* * *

Cedara

It's you.

The realization hits me like a cosmic force. This beast standing before me with that familiar, piercing gaze – it's the stranger from the forest. Only now, he's no longer a man.

He's a wolf, just like me.

His mottled gray and silver coat ripples over his muscular frame as he shifts his weight, watching me with those deep, dark eyes that seem to lock into my soul. I can't tear my gaze away, transfixed by the sight of him in this new form.

A thousand questions race through my mind. How is this possible? What does it mean? But the words won't come, caught in my throat – it's been so long since I've spoken that I don't know if I could remember how.

My wolf doesn't care.

I drink in every detail of the magnificent creature before me; the way the moonlight touches the silver of his pelt makes him glow in the low light. He takes a step forward, and I instinctively tense, my muscles coiling beneath my golden fur. But there's no threat in his movements, only a strange curiosity that mirrors my own. He tilts his head slightly, studying me with an intensity that makes my skin tingle.

Run.

I should run. I know that I should. Every fiber of my being screams at me to turn and flee, to put as much distance between us as possible. But something deeper, something visceral, holds me in place, rooted to the spot by a strange connection that defies all reason.

When he takes another step forward, I hold my ground, standing frozen as the wolf approaches, his powerful frame exuding a presence that feels irresistible. My chest tightens, and my breath catches, my pulse pounding through my veins with each step he takes toward me.

Still, I don't move, not even when he's right in front of me.

Don't hurt me…

He leans in, his warm breath fanning across my face as he takes in my scent. He makes soft huffing sounds as he breathes in deeply, his nose almost brushing my fur. Instinctively, I inhale, too, drinking in the rich, earthy aroma that clings to his pelt. Something stirs within me, ancient and untamed.

Our muzzles brush, the lightest of touches sending a tremor rippling through me. The moment is fleeting, but it feels like forever that we stand silently like that, kindred spirits connected.

A soft whine escapes my throat, a wordless plea for…what? Understanding? Connection? I'm not sure, but the sound breaks the spell, and he steps back, dark eyes never leaving mine.

For a heartbeat, we simply regard each other, two wolves standing at the crossroads of something I can't understand. Then, with a slight dip of his head, he turns and trots away, his movements fluid and effortless. He starts to run.

Without a second thought, I follow.

What the hell are you doing??

But I can't help myself. My eyes are fixed on the muscular haunches ahead that are bunching and stretching with each earth-eating stride that he makes. I speed up to pull up alongside him. There's a moment in which he glances over at me, and then he's surging forward again. I keep up.

Side by side, we bound through the forest, our paws striking the ground in perfect rhythm. The trees blur past as I let myself relax into the steady lope, tongue lolling out as I take in great lungfuls of cool evening air.

With each stride, the weight that has burdened me for so long lifts, replaced by a sense of freedom and exhilaration I haven't felt in ages. The wind rushes through my fur, carrying with it the scents of the wild. Something wells up inside me; a sensation that is undefinable yet achingly familiar.

In this moment, I am no longer alone.

The feeling warms inside me. I move closer, our shoulders almost gliding against each other as we gallop between the heavy trunks. When he begins to slow, I match his pace until we come down to a halt. We've reached the edge of the treeline. The field beyond is dark and threatening, and I recoil without thinking.

I turn my head at the sound beside me. The silver wolf is moving toward a fallen tree.

What's he doing?

I hesitate, not wanting to leave the haven of the trees. Overcoming my fear, I raise a paw, poised to move forward, when he turns to face me. There's a flicker in his eyes… regret?

I watch with rapt attention as the silver wolf before me begins to shift and contort. His body ripples, and his limbs elongate, the fur receding to reveal pale skin beneath. It's a mesmerizing transformation, almost too fast for my eyes to follow.

In mere moments, the wolf is gone, and the tall, muscular man stands in its place. The moonlight casts a soft glow over his bare skin, and I can't help but stare at the sight of him. He's as breathtaking in his human form as he is as a wolf. Strong, rugged features, a chiseled jawline with a touch of stubble. His hair is streaked with the same silver as his coat, but I sense that it's not due to age. Although the smile lines around a surprisingly sensuous mouth tell me that he's not a boy either.

My eyes drop below his chin to the broad shoulders and chest beneath…and then further down, over a tautly muscled belly and…

I look back up at his face. He reaches out a hand. I narrow my eyes on it.

"I have to go." His voice is surprisingly gentle, but I'm not soothed by it. A pang of dismay shoots through me as I realize that this is not the companion I had hoped for. I wanted the wolf, the kindred spirit that had drawn me in. Now, faced with this man, I feel a deep disappointment welling up inside me.

He takes a step forward, and I resist the urge to retreat. "There is something I must do. It can't wait," he says, his voice low and cautious. "But I'm coming back."

His words only add to my confusion. Why is he leaving? Where is he going? And why does he feel the need to reassure me that he'll return? I struggle to make sense of it all, my mind racing with questions I'm unable to ask.

He drops his hand as I take a step back. The regret is now clear in his eyes. Does he feel the same pull? I can't figure out what's going on between us, but I sense that he does. There's no way to find out. Not now. Maybe not ever.

Go!

I give in to the instinct to run.

Without a word, I turn and dart back into the forest, the trees, as I feel the sting of tears in my eyes. I don't understand what's happening, why this stranger has such a profound effect on me. All I know is that I need to get away, to find comfort in the familiar embrace of the wilderness.

As I run, I can't help but wonder if I'll ever see him again. And in spite of all my better instincts, I pray that I will.