04 Us wolves

Becca

My heartbeat pounds in my ears like a drum as I turn away. Shaky breaths leave Bliss’ jaw as she sits back on her hind legs. Is Jason as excited as I am? Is he trembling like a leaf as I am?  

Anticipation is killing me as I wait for him to shift. The moon is so bright tonight that my eyes burn after staring at it for too long, leaving a crescent shape in my vision when I close my eyes.

Finally, a snout nudges my side, and I brace my muscles to keep me straight as I turn. Makya's dark blue eyes shine like crystals in the dark, and his fur is onyx-black, barely reflecting the moonlight.

‘Bliss?’ I ask, admiring how magnificent he is. His chest puffed out, his ears listening intently; he is a predator. Even without moving an inch, I can see how his muscles are built to hunt, to run, to fight.

Bliss steps closer, scenting him. His scent of pine tree and rosehip. ‘Not mates,’ she sighs sadly. ‘He is so gorgeous, though.’

I exhale a sigh of relief. I won’t be rejected tonight.  Yet, a sharp pain echoes through my heart that is still aching for a mate.

Our wolves smell and pet each other, lovingly caressing the other’s fur and rubbing on each other. Bliss bites his ear playfully, and he crouches back into a play stance.

Dirt and weed splutter behind our paws as Bliss lunges forward into a sprint, with Makya on our tail.

‘You don’t even know where you’re going,’ he links me, and I laugh back.

‘True, true, but I’m too excited to care,’ I reply and keep running.

He catches up easily and directs me to the left, jumping over logs and rocks on the way.

The forest is dense, and Jason was correct; I can’t detect any human scents. The area is so vast if anybody wants to hunt, they’ll have to cover miles from the road to see animals.

Bliss’s lungs burn from exhaustion shortly, and regret claws at my heart. I should’ve let her out more. I should’ve found a way for her to reach her full potential.  

‘There’s a stream nearby if you want to drink and rest,’ Jason mind-links me when he realizes we slowed down.

‘That sounds nice,’ I reply, and we jog the rest of the way.

He doesn’t complain about the slow pace or the short run, even though I know he would like to go for more. I wonder how his wolf feels. 

The recent heatwave has left its mark on nature, including this forest. The flowing water is slow and far from filling out the trench. We carefully navigate the smooth, planed rocks that the water has been carving for years. As I gaze upon the scene, I make a mental note to return in springtime after the run-off season from the snowy mountains above and the area blooms. 

The damp grass alongside the brook is precisely what our overheated bodies need. I envision his pack gathering around here, lying on both sides of the stream under the moon.

What would I give to have that kind of life again? To live in a pack amongst werewolves. Memories from my childhood feel like from a different life. When we were happy and free but most importantly carefree. Since then, each time I do anything, I contemplate if any hunters would catch on it.

The sky is free from clouds, and the crescent moon brightens the area. With the stream’s flowing sound, I can’t imagine a more peaceful moment. It is perfect. Except it is not entirely as I dreamed of.

‘We are not mates,’ I link Jason, and even though I tried to keep the sadness out of my tone, it’s etched in it unmistakably.  

‘No, we are not,’ he replies, and I instantly know he isn’t sad about it. Is it because he never wanted a mate? For some reason, I feel in my gut that it is because he wouldn’t want me as a mate. I keep my tears at bay and focus on the good side of things.

For one, the mate bond doesn’t force us into something we don’t want.

Two: I can keep searching for others. I was able to find him, and I’ll be able to find others, too. This has to mean there are others out there.

Three: I have never had a werewolf friend. Someone I can discuss our real life, our real troubles with. Finally, I have a chance for that.

The fact that we are not mates is secondary right now. What’s important is that after so long, I found another werewolf in this world, and I can finally have a friend who will understand me and all of me. No secrets, no hiding.

‘It’s so great,’ I rest my snout on his leg and gaze at him.

‘It is. Thanks for finding me. My wolf hasn’t been this calm in years. Now I understand what we were missing,’ he replies, and his vulnerability floors me.

He doesn’t have his cocky attitude, and he doesn’t want anything else from me. This moment, this night, is what he wanted, and it makes him happy.  

‘I agree. We needed this. I’ll visit as often as I can, and I hope you can visit us with your mom.’ I nudge him, and I swear I feel longing and sadness coming from him, though he doesn’t say anything.

We cannot let this night be a one-time thing. We both need it, but according to Jason, his wolf needs it the most.  

We rest for a while in silence, enjoying the peaceful moment. The forest around us awakens, and I smile when I see a squirrel running down a tree. ‘Hey, when was the last time you hunted?’

‘What?’ he asks, surprised.

‘There’s a squirrel over there, and I’m hungry,’ I reply cheekily, creeping slowly towards it.

‘Oh yeah?’ his ears perk up, and the hunt is on.

Our wolves work together perfectly as Makya chases the prey into the Bliss’s jaw. The instantaneous of their natural bond and trust toward each other must be the beginning of a friendship.

We race back to his car with a full belly, realizing the sun is already peeking behind the mountains. This night was over too quickly. 

This was the best night for a long time, and I only hope Jason had the same feeling.