Chapter Twenty-Five
It was almost time.
The moon was climbing higher in the sky. Taylor sat with Cliff, holding his hand, in a clearing on the west side of the property. Rusty, Anita and Chantelle sat nearby. Originally they’d planned to have Anita helping Taylor, but Chantelle was too sick. She needed all Anita’s strength.
Jerrold and his men had been sent by helicopter to the far east side of the property, , thousands of acres away, so there was no chance the two groups would run into each other and fight in wolf form. During the day’s competition, Jerrold had come in second to Cliff. Overall, the ranking was Cliff, Grant and Jerrold just about neck and neck, then Austin.
They’d finish in two days, with the fight between the competitors.
But right now, they had other things to worry about. Like whether Chantelle and Taylor would survive the night.
The first sign Taylor had that the change was coming was an odd yearning sensation in her chest, which swelled like a bubble until it seemed to fill her up and she had no room to breathe, no room to think. An itching sensation under her skin that intensified until she wanted to scratch her way out of her own skin.
And then the feelings crested and burst, and the change swept over her. Her body bucked and contorted, her muscles spasming and contracting and utterly out of her control.
She panted, holding back her panic, and saw that where Cliff held her hand in his, silky white fur was winding its way around her fingers and her fingernails were narrowing into claws.
Cliff squeezed her hand – almost a paw – and grinned at her reassuringly, showing sharp white fangs. She bared her own newly pointy teeth, trying to return his smile, before the change took her again. Cliff had warned her that it would be painful the first time, and it was. She felt as if her bones were breaking, and she let out a long shriek that turned into a howl.
And all the time Cliff was there with her, using his Dominus strength to slow his change so he could transform alongside her. Letting her see that he was with her. That they were together, in this and in everything.
And then she was lying on the forest floor, her tail thumping feebly against the leaves as Cliff licked her muzzle and gave a series of quiet, reassuring whines.
She scrambled to her paws and frantically looked around for Chantelle. Chantelle lay on her side on the ground, a lean white wolf. Her paw twitched. Her chest slowly rose and fell. Anita, a gray wolf, and Rusty, a red wolf, knelt next to her, nuzzling her with their snouts.
A flash of movement in the forest caught her eye. A rabbit. Before she could stop herself, she was running after it, and Cliff was by her side. Names faded. Words faded. There was only the moon, and the hunt.
* * * * *
Taylor sat up with a groan. She was naked, lying on a bed of pine needles. Cliff was already up, back in his human form. The morning air was cool, and off in the distance, the rising sun was a ball of yellow fire floating in a sea of red and orange haze on the horizon.
It was the strangest thing. Taylor remembered everything, even though when the night before, once she was fully in her wolf form, she had no longer been thinking as a human.
She and Cliff had run off, leaving the others behind. They’d hunted rabbits and eaten them. Raw power had coursed through her veins, and the wind had rushed through her fur. The world of scent had come alive for her.
A human’s sense of smell, compared to a wolf’s, was like seeing the world in black and white instead of vibrant, vivid, psychedelic, glorious Technicolor. She’d been able to smell not just pine, but the faint disturbance of the needles where the bunny’s flank had grazed against the bough in its flight. Slightly more pungent there – a darker shade of green, somehow – and brushed subtly with the musk of rabbit fur and panicky adrenaline. Where its paws had landed as it leaped over a fallen log, the prey animal had left spoor as distinct to her new senses as a flashing neon arrow.
And Cliff’s scent…it was a multi-hued thing, layered from strength and familiarity and touched with flashes of color from other members of the pack – Austin’s spiky belligerence and the cool, pale menthol of Anita’s healing powers.
It was like smell and color and texture and emotion all bundled up into a single sense.
Now she felt tired and invigorated at the same time. It was real. It had happened. She was a werewolf, but she was still herself.
She rubbed her face with her hands as Cliff walked over to her, yawning and stretching. “The helicopter will be here in a few minutes,” he told her. He grinned hugely. “You made it. We made it. You’re the prettiest wolf I ever saw. And you’re mine, by the way – have I mentioned that to you? Fucking mine.”
“And you… Wait…Chantelle?” Taylor looked around frantically. She didn’t see Chantelle. Had she…?
“Here! Jeez, woman, you really had a rough night, didn’t you?” Chantelle trotted out from behind a tree, hand in hand with Rusty. She was stark naked, and Taylor could see the wolf bite on her thigh. That was how Rusty had turned her.
Chantelle looked brand new. Eyes sparkling. All her color had returned.
“Excuse me, I’m not the one who looks like she styled her hair with an eggbeater,” Taylor said happily.
“Seriously? Have you looked in a mirror?” Chantelle laughed and let go of Rusty to twirl like a ballerina. “Oh my God, I feel so great. I’d hug you, but we’re both naked, which makes things awkward.”
Taylor smiled at Rusty. “You saved my friend, and I am forever grateful. And I’m sorry I spilled hot coffee on your crotch.”
“So am I.” Rusty groaned at the memory, cupping his hands instinctively over his genitals.
Cliff grabbed Taylor, spun her around and hugged her up against him. His enormous erection pressed into her stomach.
“The only man whose crotch you should be discussing is me,” he said, only semi-joking.
“Have I told you I love you?” she crooned at him. “Lately, I mean?”
“Not since yesterday, so I feel sad and neglected.” He bent down to kiss her, cupping her chin in his hand. His tongue forced its way into her mouth and probed hungrily, tangling with her own.
“Ewww, they’re so sappy,” Chantelle said to Rusty. “Gross. We’re not going to be sappy like them, are we, babe?”
“Of course not, gorgeous. We’re way too cool for that. Although just so you know, you’re my mate, and if any man looks at you wrong, I’ll wear his balls for a hat.”
Taylor managed to give the middle finger to her best friend while kissing Cliff, which took a lot of coordination, she thought.
The sound of the helicopter overhead drew their attention. Time to go back to town. Time to prepare for the last fight.
As the helicopter landed, a thought occurred to Taylor.
“Cliff,” she said. “Where’s Shelley? Did she come back to pack lands to change?”
“I’ll find out. Why do you ask?”
“Well, I’ve been wondering how Perry and Joel just happened to be there at the restaurant. I saw Brandii in the bathroom about an hour before we all left. She’s friends with Shelley. Well, she’s in awe of Shelley, anyway. I think she called Shelley and told her she saw us, and I think Shelley called Perry and told him. If Joel was spying on you and your pack, he probably found out that Shelley was a werewolf. I suspect Shelley was working with them, to get rid of me.”
“That bitch. If I find out that’s true…” Cliff didn’t need to finish his thought as he helped her climb onto the helicopter.