Thankfully, the area of the river Clarke had chosen to bathe was not a busy one and was well secluded from the rest of the village – presumably why he had decided to go there – so even now we were finished, neither of us felt any need or desire to move. We remained then, lying on the grassy bank, our chests still heaving from our recent exertions, our bodies lightly sheened with sweat from the sex and the sun in which we now basked. These days, werewolves keep their nudity mostly to the indoors, and I felt I was getting a taste of what my forebears must have enjoyed, rolling over onto my back, parting my legs and letting the heat of the sun play across my skin, finding out my most intimate areas. The sun seemed brighter out here in the country, it never seemed this bright in the city, or perhaps it all depended on who you were with.

Clarke laid a hand on my belly and without a word I rolled towards him. We met halfway, both on our sides, kissing deeply, pressed against each other, still enjoying that almost magical sensation of bare skin on bare skin. My hand stole down between our bodies to cup his still-semi-erect cock, enjoying the feel of it in my hand.

After a little more touching, and some readjusting of position, we moved around so I was curled into Clarke’s body. He put his arms about me, his hands resting protectively against my belly. I closed my eyes, just appreciating the intimacy of this moment in these peaceful surroundings.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” murmured Clarke into my ear. It was the first thing either of us had said.

“Me neither,” I replied, softly.

“Don’t really know what to make of it.”

“Do we have to make anything of it?” I asked. “It was what it was.”

“What was it?”

“It was beautiful.”

He kissed me deeply. “I really wish I’d said that.”

I didn’t want to talk. However beautiful it had been and however wonderful this moment was, neither was made to last. His people hated me and all my people with a passion, and my sleeping with humans had made me a target for assassins and turned pack against pack. Romeo and Juliet had nothing on us.

Besides, I didn’t do relationships. I had seen what happened in relationships, and however perfect were the men I had discovered of late, I was not changing my mind. Besides, there were three of them and that wasn’t how humans did things. And I couldn’t choose between them. Best to just enjoy the moment.

I didn’t want to speak. I didn’t want to think. I wanted to bask in the beauty of the moment in the brilliance of the sun.

But as we basked, the peace of the morning was shattered by a scream.

“What was that?” Clarke was on his feet in a heartbeat and tugging his shorts on.

“It came from down there.” With a werewolf’s lack of modesty, I didn’t stop for clothes, but just ran down the riverbank in the direction from which the scream had come. I could hear Clarke behind me, his honed strength matching my natural werewolf speed.

As I rounded a massive tree, marking a bend in the river, another scream rang out. There in front of me, a human girl, no more than ten years old, lay on the ground, with blood on her face. Looming over her was a wolf. It roared at her as it lunged forward for the kill. I didn’t hesitate – I’ve never moved faster in my life.

I sprang forward, shifting form as I went and fastening my teeth onto the strange wolf’s throat. It snarled in angry pain and clawed at my body but I fought back viciously, kicking my legs hard into its belly, my claws digging in and making it howl. It thrashed violently and I was thrown, hitting the ground and rolling back up into a standing position. Now, I got a better look at my adversary; a male wolf, grey and shaggy, a sharp contrast to my thick, russet hair.

It snarled at me, I snarled back, and we sprang at each other once more, claws slashing, jaws snapping. I felt a hot streak of pain across my side as his claws found me, but the pain just spurred me on. Ducking beneath his guard, I leapt upwards, taking him by the throat once more and knocking him over backwards with my momentum so we both tumbled into the river. Water filled my nostrils and was tinged pink in my vision as blood flowed from the wolf’s neck. It struggled and thrashed against me, desperate to breathe but I held on, even though my own lungs were bursting, too. The wolf gave a final jerk, life leaving it in a spasm. I let go of its neck and flung my head up to draw in air, changing back into human form as I went, suddenly very aware of the pain in my side where the wolf’s claws had found their mark.

But as I stood up from the water and turned back to the bank, I found that more people had joined us. Clarke was looking after the little girl, but behind him and around him, lining the bank, the Wolf Takers of Hobton stood, staring at me with a mixture of disbelief and dislike.

I wanted to say something. Maybe something like ‘I saved the kid, what more do you want’. But they probably all thought that I was the one who had brought this other wolf into their midst. They may have been right. And even were it not for that, it wouldn’t matter. I was a werewolf, that was all that mattered. I was condemned by what I was.

A woman pushed her way through the crowd and snatched the girl from Clarke’s arms. “Come on, Amelia.”

The little girl, more shocked than badly hurt, looked back at me where I still stood in the water. “Thank you.”

But her mother grabbed her face, turning it away from me. “Don’t speak to it.”

One by one, the Wolf Takers started to leave, all glaring at me as they left, many of them shoulder barging Clarke on their way past him. I suppose I should have been grateful that they hadn’t killed me, but I just felt sick, sad and lost. I had been rejected by the community that yesterday had welcomed me, simply because of what I was. More than that, I had caused Clarke to suffer the same rejection – someone who had been one of them for all of his life was now ostracized. When he had first introduced me, they had all assumed that we were together, and that assumption had most likely not altered. Whatever the opposite of a man-bitch was, that was how they now saw Clarke.

It had never occurred to me that it could cut both ways. That a human might be as rejected for taking a werewolf lover as I had been for taking human lovers. Whichever way it cut from, prejudice was an ugly shadow that could make good people do bad things. Perhaps I couldn’t blame the people of Hobton, they had not seen what I had seen, they had not gotten to spend time with wolves as my guys had. The seclusion of their existence here was a double-edged sword that left them isolated from experience, relying on traditions passed down from a time when things were very different.

I looked down at the bloody corpse of the wolf I had just killed. Then again, maybe things weren’t as different now as I would have liked to think.

It had been such a good morning up to that point.

“There are wild wolves out there,” said Clarke. “And they do attack villages from time to time.”

“Wolf Taker villages?” I asked, skeptically.

“It must happen.”

When we had walked back to Clarke’s house, a group of Wolf Takers had been gathered outside. They did not try to stop us as we entered – they said nothing and did nothing. They were still there now as afternoon wore into evening, watching the house. A silent protest against my presence? A condemnation of what Clarke had done and what he had brought into their community? Or were they keeping watch on me, making sure I did not revert to my violent nature – as I surely would at some point – and kill them all as they slept. Like all prejudice, the one that governed Hobton was routed in fear.

“Have you ever had a wild wolf attack your village before?” I asked.

“No,” admitted Clarke. “But you could argue that means we’re due.”

I tried to smile. “You don’t think it’s a bit of a coincidence? The first wolf attack you’ve ever had just happening to come the morning after I arrive?”

“It would be a coincidence,” Clarke agreed. “But coincidences happen. You can’t discount the possibility.”

“Believe me, I’m not,” I replied. “I’m desperate for it to be a coincidence, because I can’t bear the thought that it might be my fault.”

“Even if it’s not a coincidence, doesn’t make it your fault.”

I scoffed. “Of course it does, Clarke. Maybe I didn’t bring the wolf here deliberately or know that it would come, but that doesn’t mean it’s not my fault that it’s here. If it came here looking for me then that makes it my fault. My responsibility. That little girl…”

“Is fine,” Clarke interrupted. “Thanks to you.”

“She wouldn’t have been attacked if it hadn’t been for me.”

Clarke shook his head. “You know, blaming yourself doesn’t do any good.”

“You’ve changed your attitude a lot in the last twenty-four hours,” I smiled. “I should have slept with you ages ago.”

Clarke laughed. “You’re good but you’re not that good. If I see you differently now it’s because you saved that girl. Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined a wolf – any wolf – would put themselves on the line for a human like that. You didn’t even hesitate. I don’t think you thought about it, considered the pros and cons of what it might mean for you in the village. You just did it ‘cause it was the right thing to do.”

I sighed. “I’ve got to tell you, my track record of doing the right thing is really not that great.”

“I have a hunch that when it matters - when it really matters – you always do the right thing.”

I wondered if he was right. I made mistakes, fucked around, and didn’t do as I was told, but did I have a basic moral core? If I did then no one had ever mentioned it to me before, they’d just emphasized what a screw up I was. It was nice to be around someone who saw something more in me.

There was a rattle from the front door and Clarke and I jumped to our feet, ready to tackle whatever might come in. The relief that flowed through me when Jackson walked in, followed by Colt, was like a tidal wave.

“What the hell’s going on out there?” asked Colt. “Bridget just gave me a look you could have roasted chestnuts over.”

“They know about Bailey?” suggested Jackson, darkly.

“What tipped you off?” asked Clarke.

“Sorry,” I said. I didn’t know what else to say.

“Don’t apologize,” Clarke corrected me.

“You’ve changed your tune,” said Colt, kicking off his shoes.

“Well, it’s been an eye-opening kind of a day.”

“Maybe you should tell us about it.” It might have been my imagination, but I thought there was just a flash of Jackson’s eyes from me to Clarke, and perhaps a tone in his voice, suggesting that he had guessed what had passed between us. Would it matter to him if he did know? Might he also know that I had slept with Colt? They had spent the last day or so together and perhaps Colt had felt the need to brag. Didn’t men do that?

I was getting ahead of myself, and frankly, none of this really meant much right at the moment.

Clarke related the attack on the little girl and how I had saved her, and what had happened afterwards. Neither Jackson nor Colt asked what we had been doing down at the riverbank, but then; why should they.

When Clarke had finished, Jackson looked at Colt and then at me. “I can’t say that surprises me in the slightest. You’re a very brave woman.”

I blushed in pride. “I don’t feel it.”

“How’s your side?”

I raised my top so Jackson could get a look at the job Clarke had done in patching me up. Fortunately, the wolf’s claws had not gone too deep, and werewolves heal quickly.

Jackson nodded his approval. “I wish I could say this was the biggest of our problems, but it’s looking like not.”

“Bad news on the home front,” said Colt with a humorless smile.

“Time for you to tell us about your day?” suggested Clarke.

“Can we get something to eat first?” asked Jackson. “Then we can talk.”