1. Whizz

The Past

My sleep was shatteredby a series of howls. I jolted awake in our dimly lit cabin, my heart hammering against my ribcage.

Those weren”t ordinary howls. A shiver crept down my spine. I glanced at the window.

The pale moon hung in the sky, bloated and sinister. I knew I had to investigate.

My senses were on full alert. I closed my eyes for a moment, focusing on my supernatural hearing.

Sure enough, there it was again – a chorus of haunting howls, distant but unmistakable.

My mind raced as I tried to piece together the puzzle. Wolves?

It was possible, but there was something otherworldly about those cries that sent a cold, prickling unease skittering across my skin.

Werewolves then? I swung my legs out of bed, my bare feet meeting the cool wooden floor.

I hesitated for a moment, the weight of fear and curiosity holding me back. But I wasn”t paralyzed for long.

I knew I had to find out what was causing those howls, if only to ensure Jake’s safety.

My hand fumbled around the nightstand until it found the cold handle of my father”s old hunting knife.

In the moonlight, I could see the outline of Jake, my younger brother, still sound asleep in the bed across the room.

My heart raced as I slipped into my coat and reached for the shotgun hidden under the bed.

Something wasn”t right, and I needed to find out what it was.

I eased open the cabin door, the hinges barely creaking, and stepped out into the chilly night air.

My breath billowed in front of me as I scanned the trees, my grip tightening on the gun.

My senses were on high alert, every rustle of leaves and snap of a twig making me jump.

What had disrupted our quiet life? Our family lived in the heart of the woods.

With our alpha father juggling two to three jobs, it was up to me to take care of Jake.

Our alpha father’s genes had been passed down to me, while Jake had taken after our late omega dad who passed away shortly after Jake”s birth.

”Whizz?” Jake”s voice, groggy and soft, cut through the darkness like a knife.

The name on my birth certificate was William but Jake had given me the nickname Whizz, because he told me I was brilliant with computers.

I liked the name, so kept it.

I spun around, and there he was, rubbing his eyes and blinking against the cold.

”What”s going on?” Jake asked me.

I silently swore, my heart pounded as I tried to think of something to say. I couldn”t let Jake get involved in this; he was too young.

At eighteen, I was considered an adult. It fell to me to take control of the situation.

”Hey, Jake,” I whispered, trying to keep my voice calm.

Any sign of panic and Jake would be even more worried.

I continued, “I heard some noises outside. Probably just a raccoon or something. I”m gonna go check it out, okay? You stay here.”

Jake”s eyes widened.”Can I come with you?”Jake asked.

I hesitated, torn between wanting to protect him and wanting him to stay safe inside.

Before I could respond, Jake neared me, his small frame shivering in his pajamas.

”No, Jake, it”s not safe. Just stay here,” I urged, hoping Jake could hear the plea in my voice.

”But what if you need help?” he countered, his gaze steady on mine. For a kid of thirteen, Jake could be incredibly mature at times.

I let out a sigh, well aware that Jake wouldn”t easily back down. Stubbornness was a trait that seemed to run in our family.

My thoughts turned to our father, Wade, who was once again working through the night at the factory.

When a shifter lost their mate, they often lost the drive to keep going. Even though it had been years since we lost our omega dad, Jake and I knew that Wade still carried that grief.

It was sheer stubbornness that pushed Wade to face each new day. The least I could do was take care of my younger brother.

”Okay, but remember, stay quiet and stick close behind me. Understand?” I told him, my tone firm and no-nonsense.

He nodded excitedly. Jake likely saw this as some kind of adventure.

I was mildly irked by that realization initially, but I quickly brushed it aside.

Our cabin didn”t offer much in terms of entertainment—just an old television, though living so far from town meant getting a decent signal was often a struggle.

As I turned to take the lead, he sidled up next to me.

Our footsteps carried us through the woods, every step measured and alert.

Jake”s breath formed faint puffs of mist in the chilly night air as he struggled to keep up with my longer strides. My grip on the shotgun remained steady.

”Hey, Whizz?” Jake”s voice trembled, breaking the silence.

I slowed my pace and glanced back at him. I wondered if he regretted coming out to the woods with me.

It wasn’t too late to turn back.

”Yeah?” I asked.

He gave me a small smile. ”You know, it”s my birthday tomorrow.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in topic.

”Yeah, I know,” I said.

He brightened up, his voice growing more animated. “I was waiting for dad to text or call but maybe he’s busy. I thought you forgot as well. But you didn”t, did you?” Jake asked.

I forced a smile, relieved for the distraction.

”Of course not, Jake. I left your present on the coffee table back home.”

His eyes lit up like stars in the night sky. ”Really? Can I open it when we get back?”

I chuckled softly, ruffling his hair. ”Sure thing.”

Deciding there was no immediate thereat yet, we made our way back to the cabin.

Jake practically tore the hastily wrapped package open.

His joy was infectious as he pulled out a gleaming necklace with a bear claw pendant hanging from it.

”Whizz, it”s beautiful!” he exclaimed, holding it up.

I grinned at his excitement, my worries momentarily forgotten. ”I”m glad you like it, little buddy,” I said.

He rushed over to me, throwing his arms around me in a tight hug. ”Thank you, thank you! I”ll wear it forever!”

As I hugged him back, a pang of guilt hit me.

I had to protect him, even if it meant facing whatever threat had brought me out here in the first place.

But for now, in this moment, his happiness was all that mattered.

Jakeand I sat cross-legged on the living room floor, surrounded by a pile of cookies and a jug of milk.

The dim light of a lantern flickered, casting dancing shadows on the cabin walls.

Jake”s eyes sparkled with excitement, his earlier apprehension replaced by a childlike joy that was infectious.

”Another cookie, Jake?” I asked, offering the plate his way.

His grin widened as he eagerly accepted the treat.

”Thanks, Whizz! This is the best birthday ever!”

I chuckled, popping a cookie into my mouth. I was planning on running to town the following day to grab some groceries and cook Jake his favourite dishes.

We weren’t exactly the most popular kids in school. Solitude suited me but Jake was my exact opposite.

I once asked him if he was sad he had no friends.

He told me it didn’t matter, because he had me. I had felt immensely sad for him then, but also incredibly touched.

I told Jake it was only a matter of time before he found friends who understood him.

”Glad you”re enjoying it,” I told him.

The cookies quickly disappeared, and the milk jug grew emptier with every passing minute.

Jake”s energy began to dwindle, I could see his eyelids drooping.

He finished the last of the milk with a contented sigh, and I helped him stand up.

He yawned widely, rubbing his eyes with his tiny fists.

”Okay, Jake,” I said. ”Time to hit the sack.”

He nodded sleepily, his excitement now giving way to exhaustion.

I tucked him into bed, making sure the blankets were snug around him.

His eyes were already half-closed, his smile fading into a peaceful expression as he succumbed to sleep.

I stood there for a moment, watching over him. But then, as if on cue, the haunting howls reached my ears again.

A chill crept down my spine, and I glanced out the window, the moonlight casting a sinister glow on the world outside.

I took a deep breath, torn between the responsibility of guarding Jake and the gnawing curiosity that urged me to uncover the source of those chilling cries.

I knew I couldn”t ignore it any longer. With one last look at Jake”s slumbering form, I slipped out of the cabin, my father”s gun once again gripped tightly in my hand.

If I ran out of bullets, I could rely on my grizzly half to lend me his aid.

The forest enveloped me in darkness as I ventured out, the trees casting eerie shadows that seemed to dance with every rustle of the leaves.

My steps were cautious, my grizzly half on high alert as I followed the sounds, trying to determine their origin.

My mind raced, the howls growing louder with each step I took.

I realized then that I had only returned to the cabin earlier to appease Jake, to create a moment of normalcy in the midst of something unsettling.

But now, the truth demanded my attention – there was something out there.

The forest seemed to close in around me as I ventured deeper into its depths, my steps cautious and calculated.

Each rustle of leaves, each snap of a twig, sent my heart racing.

The moon”s pale glow offered little comfort, casting long shadows that seemed to twist and contort with every movement.

Instinct made me look back. My breath caught in my throat as I caught a fleeting glimpse of the cabin”s outline through the trees.

It felt distant, almost like a mirage, and a chill slithered down my spine.

For a moment, the woods felt like a maze of uncertainty, and my heart pounded with an unnerving realization.

I had covered some ground, drawn further away from the cabin than I”d initially intended.

Panic threatened to take hold, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts as I tried to calculate the path back.

The moonlight played tricks on my vision. The howls, now closer, held a sinister symphony that sent a shiver through my very core.

My fingers tightened around the gun, sweat forming at my brow as I struggled to keep my breathing steady.

Each step felt like a gamble, every second spent away from the cabin amplifying the dread that had taken root within me.

And then it hit me, like someone had punched me in the gut. I hadn”t thought about what leaving Jake behind could mean.

The whole time, I was so focused on what was out there, that I didn”t even realize what I had done.

I had put him in danger, and that hit me hard.

My mind had been so caught up in this mission that I didn”t get how much I”d messed up.

By the time I retuned to the cabin, he was gone.

I never saw Jake again.