Effort
Quiet indifference greets me when I walk into his room.
The ceiling fan blows cool air on my neck and somehow finds its way to my chest from the little gap in my robe. I don’t hear the constant communication of the pack. The noise is humming, man-made. It’s not true nature’s music that I can understand.
I want to go back. Taking a step out of the room, I think if I make a run for it, they might not be able to catch me.
I’m very fast now.
I take the first step down, and Cash takes the first step up. Both of us stop and regard each other. I take another step down; he takes two steps up. I take two steps down, he takes another two up, neither of us giving way to the other.
Meeting in the middle, I’m just slightly taller than him because I’m on the upper step and he’s standing below me. Does that irk him right now that I’m above him, looking down?
“You won’t be able to get out, if that’s what you’re thinking.” He says it like he knows what I’m about to do, a look shadowing his face.
“My oldest brother had to be dragged back at least three times before he finally stayed home. My father had his hands full with him. He even had to call my grandfather to help track him.” I try to step around him; his hands go on both railings, blocking my path.
“Why don’t you just turn around? I’m not in the mood right now,” Cash says with tired eyes, as if he hasn’t been sleeping well. He looks like he’s bulked up slightly, hormones of his mate’s heat and subsequent pregnancy making him more chiseled, with firmer muscle tone. His aggression level should be climbing more and more as Kennedy can’t shift, unable to protect herself from any threats that might come her way. The moon provides a natural testosterone-induced bodyguard for her females at this vulnerable time.
I grab onto the railings with both of my hands blocking his way up.
He leans into me, touching his chest against mine. Lips close to my ears, he says, “Just because you made it out there doesn’t mean—”
“Excuse me.” Kennedy’s standing behind Cash, wanting to pass by the both of us.
We both concede to her, letting the female pass by. It’s as if our aggression dissipates as she carefully slips past.
I can see she accidentally brushes against Cash, reminding me of the way the female leader wolf of the pack showed her affection for the leader male, but Kennedy somehow made it look like it was by accident. It wasn’t; I can tell the difference. I watch her lean in slightly, smelling him. He angles away, looking everywhere else except her way.
When she goes by me, her shoulders slightly curl forward, the faintest of movements, but I can see now. I notice the language of wolves. No sound, but big bold statements are being made right now. Her scent is of life, motherhood.
“I’m taking a shower. You can have one after I’m done.” He’s talking to Kennedy as he follows the gap that Kennedy left from my hand being taken off the railing. His shoulder hits mine, shade thrown my way.
“Rya, I’ll see you in the morning. Wear something that you don’t mind getting your blood on.” There is harmful intent in his tone, looking me in the eyes before he goes into the bathroom.
Walking back into the bedroom, I notice the way ice still clings to the windows. Winter’s icy grip still hasn’t broken its hold on the land yet, their winter lasting a few weeks longer than my birth pack’s.
Everything is how I left it, except the bed is made, nice and tidy. A present sits on the desk by my phone. I smile slightly to myself as I look at it, giddy at getting a present.
I pull out a thick cookbook; the title is The Carnivore’s Guide to Meat.
I open up the white envelope. Dallas’s handwriting is scratchy, but it looks like he’s trying to be legible.
I saw this and thought of you, my meat eater!
Congratulations.
I miss you
XO
Dallas
I feel like twirling again with a happy smile. I like his humor.
Opening the book, I like that the pictures are matte and not shiny and glossy. You get a better feel for the meal. Sometimes I think that instead of fairy tale books that little girls get about a princess meeting a prince and living happily ever after, they should get cookbooks.
Cookbooks can tell the history of the family, of regions, of culture, of religions, of how to get through the lean times. Not an illusion of make believe with a glass slipper that fits the right person and boom, your prince will love you forever, because that’s not real.
Picking up the phone, I go into the bathroom and turn on the tap. The water sputters out just for a moment before it bursts out full of power. Someone has lined the counter with shampoos and conditioners, body wash, toothpaste, toothbrushes, everything a female needs.
Looking around, I see no towel, so I step out of my room, watching Cash leave the bathroom he was in with a towel wrapped around his waist. Little beads of water still cling to his bald head. As soon as his door closes, I watch Kennedy slink out quietly, going into the bathroom and quickly returning with the shirt Cash was wearing. She has it to her nose before shutting the door behind her.
She’s probably feeling the extreme need to have her mate by her side while pregnant, her compulsions getting the better of her, stealing his dirty clothes to satisfy her internal needs.
Getting a few spare towels, I close my door, locking it behind me.
Steam starts to rise up, surrounding me like a warm blanket. Stepping in, I let the water pool over my ankles. It’s slowly rising up, getting deeper. I sit down, pressing my back against the cold back of the tub. It’s a conflicting feeling. I have hot water soaking into my bones, but the cold porcelain against my back has me gasping with cold.
It feels weird not having fur covering my body.
I must stink of wild musky wolves. How did they stand my offensive smell at dinner time?
The water is now up to my chest, relaxing me as I take a deep breath, the ends of my hair soaking wet, floating at my sides. Turning off the water, I turn my phone on. Noticing my messages are full, I place the call first before listening to them.
He picks up before the first ring ends.
“Rya.” My skin shivers with the way he says my name. I feel a rush of nervousness, and I don’t know why.
“Dallas.” I watch as my toes peek out of the water, resting on the edge of the tub opposite me.
“My meat eater. I’m proud of you, Rya. I knew you could do it, and in the winter. First female to ever do that!” Pride, that’s the tone of his voice. It feels good to have someone have pride in me.
“Thanks, Dallas.”
“How do you feel?” I can sense a smile in his voice.
“I feel weird. It feels different. Like I can see things clearer. I notice little things more. I can hear better without words. Does that even make sense?”
“I felt the same way when I came back. I had a hard time staying home. I kept running away from my house back with the wild wolves, drove my father crazy. He sent my grandfather the last time to get me, and I never ran away again. But I understand the pull to stay out there. After the accident, I thought I could go back out there and live out my life with them.”
“I feel the same way. It was amazing. I was so scared at first, and I really didn’t even know anything, but I watched them and studied and practiced. Finally, I was able to hunt with them and really feel as if I was part of a pack for the first time in my life.” A hint of sadness that I didn’t want to expose utters out with the last few words I say.
“That makes me angry, Rya. I just don’t understand that. I can’t comprehend how awful your juvenile years were. Trust me when I say this: you are part of the pack now. Never will you ever be treated that way again, ever!” A ferocity in his tone has a raw growl slipping out his chest. I understand that noise; it’s one of warning to be afraid of what that wolf intends.
“Rya, I miss you. I just want you to know that.” That makes me smile, that someone actually misses me. Not like last time, as everyone couldn’t wait for me to be gone away from the pack. Out of sight, out of mind.
I miss him. That’s the thought that grips me. I miss him.
“I miss you too. How long do you think I’m going to be staying here?” I’m really curious as how long my training might be.
“Who did my dad say was your trainer?”
“Cash.” Dallas is laughing into the phone.
“My dad has Cash training you?”
“Yes.”
“The training usually ends when you can beat your trainer.” I take a deep breath in.
“What happens if I can’t beat him?”
“My father would never put you against someone he doesn’t think you can beat. It just takes time. Remember, he’s third born, not first or second. He’s strong, but you were made to be a Luna. You’re naturally stronger than him. You have to believe in yourself. Remember to watch, listen, and learn. He has weaknesses. You have to find them and exploit them. I think once you’re trained, you might even beat Caleb, or at least give him a good go.”
“I wish I can believe that. He looks like he wants to eat me.”
“Cash doesn’t want to eat you. If he did, you would already be dead. He’s just being a jerk right now, but I think once he gets to know you, he’ll change his mind about you. I think once you get to know him, you might see him differently.” His voice holds a conviction that I don’t feel.
“Maybe.” I’m not convinced at all.
A commotion in the background has his attention off of our conversation.
“Rya, I have to go. Call me tomorrow, okay?” I hear a hard groan of pain in the background from a female. It sounds like Kimberly’s voice; I can hear a male’s voice, asking for help. It’s Clayton’s voice, sounding panicked.
“Is that Kimberly’s voice?”
“Yes, I have to go.” He hangs the phone up, leaving me with a feeling of dread.
The water’s becoming lukewarm as I play the sounds of her groan over and over in my mind while looking at my phone.
I have a full mailbox of voice messages. Putting the phone up to my ear, I hear Dallas on the other line.
“First day away, I can only imagine what you’re thinking. I can tell you what I’m thinking about. It’s you.” The message finishes.
The next one is him saying, “It’s the second day away and they tell me you made it the night without having to be dragged back to the pack. Good job. The first night with the wolves is the hardest.”
“Third day away, Rya, heard you caught your first mouse by yourself. That’s my female. Hard work, isn’t it?” I laugh at how proud he is of me. How does he know all this?
I keep listening to his messages, day five going into twelve, turning into day twenty-five, to day forty-two. He’s been leaving me messages every single day.
I’m lying in my bed now with the covers to my chin, ready to fall asleep. He knows everything that I have been going through, all the little accomplishments and setbacks that I am having out there.
He told me in one of his messages that his father or mother is keeping him updated. They have spotters out there just in case I ran into trouble. I never saw anyone else out there, just the wolves. He said that there is a failsafe that if it looked like I really couldn’t cut it, they would have rescued me before death took me. I feel kind of happy knowing at least I wouldn’t have died out there.
The next message has me dropping the phone.
“Rya,” It’s one word that has my whole body responding to the tenor of it, my body’s traitorous response to my mate.
“Don’t delete this, but I understand if you do. I’d delete myself too, if I could.” I can hear the way his lungs fill with air and the way he exhales it out.
“I had this whole speech written out.” He takes a long sigh before I hear crumpling paper. I think he must have tossed it because I hear it hitting something, maybe the wall?
“Sorry—is that what you want to hear? It’s not good enough. I can say sorry a thousand times and it’s just not good enough for what I have done to you.” His voice makes me cringe slightly; it’s clenching my jaw, curling my shoulders in.
“I think I should start at the beginning when I figured out you were my mate, tell you my story. It’s not going to be a good story, Rya. It’s not going to be one of those fairy tales that you females like to read about. I’ve had a lot of time to think about things, to think how I should have done things differently.” Sitting up in bed, my hands are shaking, I’m shaking. I think I should delete his messages. I can’t stand to hear his voice because it does things to me. Makes me long for him at the same time it makes me want to end him. The message ends; his time’s up.
I click to the next message.
“Rya, heard you caught your first winter rabbit—who’s the beast? You’re the beast of the woods.” Dallas is laughing in joy for me.
I click to the next message.
“Where was I, Rya? Oh yeah…how I found out you were my mate.” Clayton’s voice holds no tone. It’s just him telling a story to someone who shouldn’t be listening.
“Kennedy had a soccer game. She was a few years older than you. I was going to watch her play. While I was sitting there, your team was just finishing up. You scored the final goal, winning by one. This smile was on your face when you were celebrating with all your friends, jumping up and down, and our eyes connected for just a split second and I knew. It took my breath away. I couldn’t stop watching you. Your parents were there, I think your sisters. You were really good for a pre-juvenile.” I can tell he’s smiling slightly with the way his voice now sounds happy with a memory.
“I watched as you ran to your parents, giving you hugs. I thought what a nice family you must have. I just sat there trying to breathe. Then Kennedy walked up to me with her beautiful smile, kissing me on the lips, asking what the matter was, and I told her nothing. I turned around and walked away from you and your celebration, knowing who you were to me. Thinking back on that scene, what sticks out in my mind is that your smile was even more beautiful than hers if only I would have looked closer at you.” The message ends again; his time’s up.
Clicking again on the next message, Dallas is excited about me learning to play fight, not sleeping at the edge of the pack anymore. Making friends on my own and them liking me. I can hear the slight emotion for a fraction of a second in his voice before he gives a little cough, saying how proud he is of me.
A few more messages from Dallas before Clayton’s voice has my heart squeezing tight.
“I kept seeing you everywhere, Rya. You and your friends hanging out here and there. I had this fascination with looking at you, but you were this little thing with no hips, no chest, you weren’t developed at all. You were a little pup, and I couldn’t have thoughts about you like that. It just wasn’t right. So I watched you. You started high school the next year; I knew you were getting close to shifting by the way your hips started to become rounder, the way you needed to start wearing a bra. I noticed every change in your body. I noticed the way you were growing into your face. I noticed how you were really good at all the sports you played, how you had many friends, how when you came into the room, you shined with confidence. You always walked with your shoulders straight and head up. That type of confidence you just have in you, it’s not learned. Always a smile on your face. I noticed all the hair styles you went through. Do you know that I can’t remember any of Kennedy’s hairstyles, not one? I’m sure she had many, but thinking back, all I can remember is your style.” He sounds sad about this.
More messages from Dallas, with such pride in his voice. Everything I’m going through documented in his messages to me.
“Rya, you’re probably wondering how I got your number. Well, I stole it off my mother’s desk a few years back. I never called you, but for some reason, I wanted your number.” He hangs up this time, not allowing the time to run out.
Dallas’s voice comes over the phone. “I delivered a male today, mom and pup doing good. I don’t think I can do that again.” His voice sounds slightly slurred as if he’s been drinking.
Clayton’s voice is in the next message. “Rya, where was I? Oh yes. I had to sit through assemblies at school and watch you up on stage because you’re part of this play or doing something with the student council. Thinking back all this time, Kennedy never participated in anything like that, she never led, but you did. You organized, got involved. You were a naturally good leader, perfect Luna material.” His voice sounds melancholy before he ends the call.
It’s getting late, I should put the phone down and go to sleep, but I just can’t. I tell myself just one more message and I’m going to go to bed.
“Clayton is up and walking around now, Rya. I thought you should know. I don’t want to keep anything from you. Kimberly’s pregnancy is going all right. She is still very low in her measurement, and her weight really isn’t improving. I’m having Aurora talk with her. Maybe that’s what she needs.” Dallas sounds lost slightly on how to handle the pregnant female.
Another message has Clayton’s deep voice coming over the speaker.
“When I told Kennedy about you, she was mad at the fact that I kept a secret from her for so long, then that I found my mate. I don’t think she thought you were a real threat to us. You seemed weaker than her.” His words are like acid that eats away at my skin as my heart tightens. Not a threat, I kicked her ass that day; if Clayton wasn’t there, I would have ended her. I know it, deep down. I would have taken a life.
“I couldn’t stop watching you, but I never did anything about it. I let you live your life and I lived mine. Until that day when you came up to me, with this face that had so much hope in it. I remember what you were wearing, jean shorts, a red tank top, flip-flops, your hair down. You must have just gotten it cut because it was just past your shoulders. I like it long on you. Looking back on that day, I can’t remember what Kennedy was wearing. You wanted to talk with me alone. I think you really expected me to do that. I didn’t.”
I’m crying now, big fat tears as my breath burns the back of my throat.
“It was hard for me to watch you beg like that, plead with me, grab onto my legs just asking for a chance. Your juvenile voice crying out in pain, my wolf was going nuts inside me. But I didn’t give you that chance, did I? I didn’t give you the only thing you have ever asked of me, just a chance. You never asked me to love you; all you asked for was a small chance. I didn’t give you that!” His voice cracks and breaks along with mine.
The next message is Dallas and Caleb yelling into it with excitement…both happy males at the fact I actually ate with the pack, took my share of the moose. “Meat eater,” they are screaming; I think they are slightly drunk in celebration.
The next one is Clayton’s voice I hear.
“I watched your face when you were getting whipped. Your eyes never left mine until the pain became unbearable. I think we both looked away at the same time. I remember you put up a brave fight. You really tried not to cry out, but that whip makes even the biggest males cry like little pups. This will hurt, but I think you should know this. I screwed Kennedy that night just to prove that what we were doing was the right thing, that we loved each other. We did love each other, Rya, and to a certain extent we always will love each other.” His time has run out again.
While I was lying in my bed, unable to move, he was inside her taking pleasure in my pain.
The next message is Dallas saying it won’t be long for me to come back, maybe another month, and that he can’t wait to talk to me.
Clayton’s on the next message.
“The hardest part for me was when you came back. I was there in the cafeteria when you approached your friends with your food in your hands. I heard every word that they spoke to you. I watched as you walked away from them, a little curl to your shoulder that you never had before. I could tell you were still in pain with the grimace your face made with every step, yet you still came to school. I remember that you sat underneath that big tree eating by yourself, while I walked by you, hand in hand with Kennedy. I just left you there by yourself. I noticed that you stopped playing sports, were no longer on student council. You stopped trying different hairstyles. In fact, you just braided it, not cutting it, letting it grow long as if you stopped caring. I saw this juvenile female go from being so full of life to not wanting to be alive…still I did nothing to help you. I continued on with my life while I watched yours slowly erode away. I couldn’t wait to get out of high school so I didn’t have to look at you anymore and what I did to a soul. I’m supposed to be this leader, and I have destroyed something beautiful without a care in the world. I don’t deserve to lead. I would go to the library sometimes at lunch in the winter time. I knew you were in the back corner in the cubicle pretending to study. I could hear your soft cries, and I did nothing to help you.” His voice is so heavy with emotion he’s having a hard time talking before he ends the call.
I can’t continue anymore, so I put the phone down. It’s just too hard on my soul.
Maybe it was two in the morning before I cried myself to sleep only to have Cash wake me up with a “get up” grunt.
I change into some workout clothes and running shoes. I really have no idea what to expect from him.
Meeting him at the breakfast table, it’s just us up in the early morning dawn. Both our eyes seem puffy and red. I wonder if we have been crying over the same wolves?
“We’re going to run to the training facility.” That’s all he says as I follow him outside.
The high pines shiver in the freezing wind, and the world seems still asleep as I try to keep his pace. The sky blushes in the softest of pinks and blues as the sun cracks through the night. The moon slowly fades away. The air outside seems virgin young, pure and clean.
The briskness pushes itself inside my nose, stinging with its burning cold. The skin side is not used to running this fast for this long and is slowly lagging behind Cash.
I think he slows his pace slightly until I catch up with him. He doesn’t say anything; we just run silently together, each in our own world of thought. A chipmunk scuttles around the base of a tree. If I were in Wild form, I could have had it between my jaws already.
Soon I think Mother Nature’s winter cloak will be thrown away for spring’s green dress.
The crunching sound of each step we take echoes in this soundless morning, even the wind seems to have a certain quietness about it.
My thighs are burning by the time we enter this grey-sided building, nothing fancy to it. Four walls and a high-pitched tin roof.
A group of very young juveniles are already inside waiting, milling about, talking amongst themselves.
“Hi, Cash.” All the juveniles are smiling up at him, revealing how much they like this male wolf. He smiles back at them, the only smile I have ever seen on his face since meeting him. It makes him look beautiful for a minute until I remember how ugly he can be.
Their curious eyes fall on me. I don’t hide behind Cash; I stand tall, meeting everyone head on and looking them in the eyes.
These are baby wolves who don’t pose any threat to me.
“Everyone, this is Rya. She’s going to be training with you all for a while until she learns the basics.” They have open mouths in shock.
“Is she her?” a male juvenile asks Cash.
“Yes, that’s her.” Now all eyes are on me, rolling over my body, assessing everything.
The males, all with their shaved heads, regard me, smelling deeply. They can’t seem to stop staring as the females do the same. Lifting their noses high up, not being discreet. Taking my scent in and breathing it out. A low murmur of excitement is rippling through this crowd.
“That’s her…look at her eyes, they freak me out…she’s really pretty…why is she training with us?”
“All right, everyone, let’s begin.” Cash takes a step in the front, and everyone follows his instructions. I stand at the back watching everyone on what to do. He leads them in their morning stretch, getting their muscles ready.
Cash goes through the motions, guiding these young ones in routine after routine, sparring with them gently. His sinewy V-shaped body moves in fluid grace; he’s sure-footed with every move he demonstrates.
I think he likes it. He has a lot of patience while working with these novice learners, giving them high fives when they do good, a gotta try harder next time if someone taps out. The sparring is rough and raw. No one holds anything back.
It’s my turn to go against the youngest shifted juvenile here. He’s skinny, without the fullness another few years will bring to his body. His voice even cracks as he says hello to me.
“What’s the rules everyone?” Cash’s voice booms over the noise.
“You either tap out or you get knocked out?” All the males and females chant as one voice. Cash smiles at this, pleased with the response of his minions.
“Rya, are you ready?” I’m not sure; I have never had a lesson in fighting before. I don’t give him an answer, and he doesn’t wait for one as he blows a whistle very lightly so it doesn’t hurt our ears.
This male is on me before I have time to blink. He’s got me one way, then the other, as he’s trying to pin me against the mat in some kind of ninja move. I wiggle out of his hold only because I’m stronger, but he manages to catch me with an elbow to the lower jaw near my ear that makes me see stars.
He’s quick as he assaults every inch of my body.
“Do you want to quit? All you need to do is tap out.” Cash has his eyes on me, looking, waiting for an answer.
“No.” I face this little wolverine head on. He pounds on my body again and again. The Nature of my Wild is not happy about this little male hurting the skin side. She slowly starts to make an appearance. A growl rumbles out with our displeasure.
“Rya, no wolves here. Put her away.” Cash takes a step toward me, and I try to rein her in, shaking with the effort.
This male seizes his opportunity and lays me out hard, falling to the ground. He’s on me in an instant, no mercy. He has my arm, angling it up in such a way that if he continues, it’s going to break. The pain is too much, and my hand goes to tap out. Before I do, I notice the way Cash is looking at me, as if he knew I would just tap out. Like he is expecting this. So I grit my teeth in my jaw and take this pain; I take it because I can. It’s actually not as bad as the whip against my back.
“Tap out.” The little male’s voice is in my ear as more pressure is exerted on my arm. A groan tumbles out, and he pleads with me. I don’t think that this male wants to do what he’s been trained to do. I try to break the hold, I try to get out, to fight against this hold, but I don’t know how. At least I am trying.
“Please tap out.” There’s a desperation in his voice now. I think only I can hear it, he’s whispering to me so quietly. His face is red in concentration, and I’m red with the effort I’m putting up. I’m trying with all I have to break his hold, but I just can’t, and the snap echoes inside the building as all eyes are on the fight, everyone cringing with the sound.
Cash is instantly on me.
“Why didn’t you tap out?” He’s shocked.
“I’m not a quitter.” My voice travels between the spaces in my clenched teeth.
The small juvenile wolf rocks back and forth in dread. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” He looks like he’s going to get sick.
A trickling of older wolves starts to circle around us as they hear about what just happened, how I wouldn’t submit, that I just kept on fighting until I couldn’t anymore. Hushed whispers: Is that her? What did she do? She never gave up?
Their voices circle around me. The pain starts to set in, and I feel slightly nauseated with it.
“Can you get up?” I shake my head no. I can’t move as I lay there holding my arm. I can feel the blood soaking into my shirt, onto the mat. I can’t look; I know the bone is out of my skin.
Closing my eyes, I try to breathe through the pain the same way I tell my laboring females to do.
It’s a concentration of wills, my will against the pain’s will. I don’t make a sound, just bear it.
“Rya, can you open your eyes for me?” I do, and it’s a nice older wolf with silver hair. He’s got kind, caring eyes.
“I need to take your shirt off and look at your arm. Is that okay with you?”
“Yes,” I hiss out.
“Cash, come help me sit her up.” It takes two of them, as I am stiff and just need to breathe.
He opens his black bag, and a needle plunges into my good arm. It stings slightly with the medication he’s using. Next, he brings out scissors, cutting my shirt off from the back and down the side of my arms, so it easily peels off my head.
“What happened to you?” the kind doctor asks as my back is exposed for everyone’s eyes. This is the first time more than a handful of wolves have seen my back. Voices grow stronger, disbelief of what they are seeing on a female’s back.
Cash looks toward my back, eyes dilating slightly. I’m not sure what’s worse in his mind: my arm bone sticking out of my flesh or the lasting kiss the whip’s mark left on my pristine flesh.
“What happened?” Cash’s voice sounds far away, the medication taking its hold on my system. It’s making my vision fuzzy, my tongue thick; all the moisture has left my mouth.
“It was from the effort I put into my fight for what I thought was mine.” The words come out thick, slightly slurred. The effects of the medication raging in my system.
He can’t look in my eyes and I can’t hold his as the pain medication takes its hold on me.
“Cash.” That Silverback male’s voice tone is harsh. It’s the first time I have heard sound waves make the wolves freeze.
Cash squares up his shoulders to his father, like a male ready to receive his punishment.
“Father.”
“You call him, tell him you allowed his female to fight before she was ready, and she got hurt on your watch.” Cash nods his head to his father in agreement.