Season of the Wolf Pt. 01

I regret that Nathaniel didn't find Grace sooner. He could have spared her so much pain if she'd been raised with the knowledge of what she is destined to become. When he finally did find her it was a race against time. He couldn't risk Grace's father finding out about her and by that point Josiah had already returned to challenge for leadership of the pack. I hid Grace well after Nathaniel was killed. That much I did lie to her about. But, she was safer in the human world than she would have been in her own. I did follow Nathaniel's trail to her, only it was before he died, not afterwards. Nathaniel died to protect Grace and I killed for the very same reason. There was only one motive for the prodigal son's return and it wasn't to challenge for leadership of the pack.

Josiah and Angel wanted a very different future for Grace. He knew she would soon come into her wolf. He was trying to stop Nathaniel from bringing Grace home. I didn't put the pieces of Angel's death together until after Josiah had returned and that was a very unfortunate thing.

On the night Angel ran with her daughter, the two of them must have planned for Josiah to stay behind in an attempt to contain Nathaniel. They both knew Nathaniel would never let Angel leave with Grace. Josiah could have left. Angel could have left. But, they would have to have left Grace behind. Grace would never be allowed to go with them, not until she reached the age to decide for herself. Their plan was almost perfect. What neither one of them could have foreseen was the bullet that ended Angel's life and might have very well have separated Grace from us forever.

Josiah knew his father would never stop searching for Grace. He must have suspected Nathaniel was onto her trail and moved to intervene the only way he knew how. If Josiah had gotten to Grace first Nathaniel would still be alive. Josiah would have still been alive and Grace would still be lost to her true family. I can't regret killing Josiah when it brought her home where she belongs.

I pull Grace to a stop in a wide clearing near the border of the woods. The moonlight shines down on her illuminating her sweet face. Her eyes are wide with wonder and confusion. I can see her struggling to trust me. In her world, the only world she's ever known. It would be dangerous to be out here so close to the woods with a man she thinks is just a little bit crazy. The drink made her brave and lowered her defenses enough to derail her human sensibilities. To a wolf, being out here in the middle of the night makes perfect sense, as she's about to see. Letting go of her hand I crouch down and meet her eyes one last time. "Trust me, Grace."

Using the force of command that makes me pack master, I call the pack to me. Coyote is the first to heed my voice and his silver-gray wolf is unmistakable as he pokes his head out of the bushes. He approaches Grace with the eagerness of a puppy. I don't want her fooled by the truth of what we are or the danger we're capable of. His golden eyes flash with challenge as Grace, giggling like a schoolgirl, wrinkles her nose as he passes his pink tongue over her cheek. "I almost hit you with my car," she chastises Coyote. "You're a bad, bad dog."

She's sitting on her butt with the cool dew on the grass soaking her shorts. Coyote is wiggling on his back like a goddamned tame poodle instead of the wolf he is. Grace obliges, giving him a belly rub and cooing to him in baby talk.

Bear's wolf inches closer and extends his long muzzle to sniff Grace's hair. He's big and thick and dark as the night that surrounds us. Grace strokes his ruff and clucks her tongue softly at him. I see Diane's buff wolf, warily hanging back by the border of the woods. The rest of the pack has made an appearance, but is far too untrusting of Grace in her human form to hazard much closer. "I didn't know you were a dog lover, Han."

I grit my teeth. Grace still doesn't understand. The pack shows themselves but she thinks they're dogs and not wolves. I blame Coyote for that. Damned mongrel. Coyote is lounging on his belly with his head planted in Grace's lap. The bastard has the nerve to shoot me a toothy grin before he starts playing his part to the hilt and chewing on the drawstring of Grace's shorts. My wolf almost slips his chain at Coyote's nearness to what he considers his...ours. "Coyote," I snap.

Begrudgingly, Coyote pulls his big body off of the ground and onto all fours. He shakes out his ruff and huffs at me in irritation. I stare at Grace as I try to think of a way to make her see him for what he is. She is enamored by the pack and has no fear. That's good. I think. Softly whistling, she tries to call them to her, but other than Coyote and Bear they've kept their distance. "My God, Han. You must have a couple of dozen dogs running loose out here. I can't believe you don't keep them caged up. I know this is the country, but you're really not being a very good pet parent," she says accusingly.

I think I'm starting to understand how Grace's mind works. Anything she can't explain she twists and bends until it fits into a neat mental compartment. The woman could rationalize away the sun and the moon. Even the proof she's worked so hard to find she can't completely accept at face value. It's easier for her to accuse me of scamming her than for her to see things as they truly are. "Grace, open your eyes!" I shout at her out of sheer frustration.

Coyote barks at me and flashes his teeth, coming to Grace's defense. I shoot him a warning growl in reply. I'm in my human form, but I could change that in a blink of an eye. Coyote is just a pup in my world. He doesn't have my power or strength and much like Grace he fails to see the forest for the trees. I'm an old dog. I unleash just a trickle of the preternatural force that makes me what I am beneath this wrapper of flesh and bring Coyote to heel.

Grace is clueless to the power play and tickles Coyote under the chin with her index finger. I pace and drag my hand through my hair, tugging on the strands trapped between my fingers. Now what am I supposed to do? There's only one thing I can do. I have to show her. I have to force her to see the things she doesn't want to see.

I have no doubt a part of Grace's innermost self already instinctively knows the truth. She is fascinated by wolves and truly has no idea why. The last thing I want is to terrify her or cause her any pain, but I don't see as if I have a choice. Coyote, in part, has caused this problem and I think he should be the one to show her the real truth hiding beneath his furry exterior. "Grace, they're not dogs." She stops scratching Coyote behind the ears long enough to cock her head and stare up at me. "That mutt you're petting is a wolf."

She scoffs and starts stroking Coyote's pointy ears. Coyote tilts his head and rolls his eyes up at me as if to say 'now what are you going to do?' "Han, I really think you should see a doctor about your condition. There are no wolf packs in Indiana. If this cute, big, baby boy were a wolf, he'd be chewing off my face by now. Sure, he sort of looks like a wolf." She squints her eyes and takes a good look at Coyote. "Maybe, he's a wolf-husky or shepherd hybrid, but he isn't a wolf. He's too big and waaaayyyyy too tame to be a wolf."

I give up. It is true our wolves are larger and heavier than natural wolves. It has to do with displacement of body size. Coyote is tall and lanky and so is his wolf. He's roughly the height of a Great Dane with the muscle bulk and thickness of a German Shepherd. Bear is denser in build and broad in the chest and has more of a mastiff's bulky shape than a wolf's. But, there is no way to mistake Coyote's markings or Bear's sharp teeth and erect ears as anything but wolf. She pats my thigh sympathetically and promises to get me medication. I stare up at the full moon praying the goddess will give me strength.

There's only one way to convince Grace of the truth. I don't know if she's ready for it or not or if she'll conveniently compartmentalize the truth until it fits inside the little box that is her world. Coyote started this and he can finish it. I stare him down. I know he doesn't want to do this and I don't either. But, how else can I make her see? I grab Grace by the bicep and drag her back. She's still a little drunk and her body is sluggish and pliant. "Coyote, show her."

Coyote growls at me over his shoulder and unwillingly stalks into the clearing. The pack shuffles restlessly in the brush as he calls the ancient power to him and the process begins. For me, shedding one skin and sliding into the other is as easy as breathing. It isn't so for Coyote. What takes me seconds, takes him minutes to accomplish. I want Grace to see and she shivers from the blast of preternatural energy rippling in the air. Coyote's limbs fail to support his weight and he tumbles to the grass grunting in pain as the shift takes hold.

Watching the transformation is a thing of beauty for me, but Grace is horrified, staring wide eyed and swallowing back bile as Coyote's human shape begins to emerge.

I clamp my palm over Grace's mouth to keep her from screaming. The pack is agitated enough by her presence and Coyote's transformation. They would never harm her, but I don't want to change into my wolf form to keep them in line. The sound of bone and sinew cracking and popping as it reforms into human limbs has her struggling in my hold. It's dark, but I know she sees enough.

Coyote does his best, for Grace's sake, to restrain his groans of pain. He clutches at the grass and pants as the magic does its job and flesh covers his quivering body. He'll awaken confused and shivering, every inch of him aching from the change. It'll take a minute or two for him to regain his human senses and be capable of forming cohesive thoughts. I struggle out of my shirt and toss it in Coyote's general direction. The shift is cold, painful, and confusing. Pain is just a part of it, but I don't want him to suffer more than he has to.

Nudity is a way of life for us. Sometimes, the wolf springs out, if we're in danger or in a heightened emotional state. Clothing could strangle a wolf and it gets expensive to replace. So, out of necessity, we strip before a shift. I don't want Grace to see Coyote naked and it's as much for my sensibilities as for hers. I feel a charge of preternatural energy and wonder if Grace's wolf is about to make her big debut. It'd be impossible for Grace to argue her way out of everything I've revealed if she did shift. But, she doesn't and maintains her stubborn hold on her human form.

Coyote sits up and shakes off the lingering traces of his wolf. Grace is freaked out and has forgotten about screaming. Cautiously, I remove my hand from her mouth, but keep a careful grip on her arm. Coyote shoots her a cocky grin and forces his body onto its feet before sliding into my shirt. The shirttails cover enough and hide the important parts. Grace leans unblinkingly against my chest, staring across the clearing at him. "Have we got any of that whiskey left?" She manages to croak out before shock sets in and she goes limp in my arms.

The pack scatters as I lift Grace and tuck her in tightly against my chest. Coyote tugs off my shirt and wraps it around her. There's nothing but concern in his expression. He is scared for Grace and I am too. I've revealed our secret and hers as well. I didn't want it to happen this way, but it has and I can't change a thing now. What she does with it is up to her. She has no more choice about it than any of us do. Whether she wants this or not, the wolf is her destiny.

I motion for Coyote to leave her to me and without an argument he does. He jogs out into the woods to wherever he stashed his clothes. I carry Grace back to the house as carefully as I can and stretch her out in the bed. She has roused, but prefers to sink into a drunken slumber. Perhaps, this temporary escape caused by the whiskey is the only defense she has. Pulling off her dew soaked tennis shoes and socks I tuck her in beneath a fluffy warm comforter and sit vigil beside her bed.

The wee hours of dawn have come, but I have a feeling it's going to be a long night. I watch her sleep. She is restless in her dreams and tosses and turns beneath the covers. I've thought of a thousand things to say, but none of them really matter. Brushing a lock of stray hair away from her cheek, I study the beauty of her face. She didn't ask for this life, but it's the only one she's got. I love her. But, more than anything I regret taking her from the only world she's ever known and bringing her into mine. "I'm sorry, Grace. Truly sorry."

Chapter 29

I'm awake and sitting in bed with my back propped up against a stack of soft pillows. The day is sunny and promises to be bright and clear. I can't work up the slightest bit of enthusiasm for the blue skies and the reprieve from the relentless late summer humidity. I'm wearing the same dirt smudged, grass stained clothes I wore yesterday. God, yesterday seems like a lifetime ago. When I woke up yesterday morning I was somehow more innocent and decidedly less jaded than I am today.

It seems like a dream. The truth revealed to me last night. That couldn't have really happened. I pick a tuft of silvery-gray fur from the hem of my shorts and hold it between my fingertips. I can deny what my eyes saw. God knows I've already tried about a thousand times to think things through. But, there isn't really any other explanation except for the bitter truth. Coyote is a werewolf. Han is a werewolf. I swallow hard and pinch my forearm to keep from screaming. I am a werewolf.

The soft rap of knuckles on the doorjamb barely draws my attention. I see it's Han and he's brought me up breakfast on a tray. I can't eat. I don't want food or soft, understanding conversation, or any further explanations. He walks slowly and tries to catch my eye. I refuse to look at him or even to bother acknowledging his presence. He sets the tray on the nightstand and stands at the side of the bed staring down at me. His hands are in his pockets and his shoulders slouched. "I thought it might be easier for you somehow. I put you in here last night instead of your room. Well, because of the wolves...I just thought...never mind, Grace," he says abruptly cutting himself off as he shakes his head.

I don't move. I barely breathe. I stay where I am, propped up against the pillows staring out into a sunshiny perfect world that I'm no longer a part of. I know I'm being a bitch and I feel badly about it. None of this is really Han's fault. Oh, not being completely honest with me from the very beginning is one hundred percent on his shoulders. How could I blame him though? I don't suppose there is a good way to tell a person something like that.

He isn't responsible for what's in my DNA or his own either, for that matter. I just need some time. I don't need bacon and eggs. A steaming mug of tea isn't going to make anything better. I struggle for something to say, but can't think of a thing. I want to be angry with someone and Han is as good of a target as anybody for my rage. Instead of shouting at him, I use silence as a weapon. I wanted the truth and he gave it to me. It isn't right for me to be mad at anyone but myself. Truthfully, I am plenty pissed at myself, because of the way I'm handling things, my anger, the truth I just had to know, and of how I'm taking it all out on Han.

I'm in my grandfather's bedroom. Strange, how I can't think of this room as mine or envision any other purpose for the space other than what it is. The furniture is antique dark wood varnished to a glossy sheen and very purposeful in its design. I haven't begun to pack the things my grandfather left behind in the closet and the dresser drawers. Its just stuff and it shouldn't matter to me. Logically, I suppose, it doesn't. But in so many ways these things are all I have of my real family. "I feel bad that I can't mourn him."

"He wouldn't want you to, Grace." I can hear the sincerity in Han's voice. "You should know that he was a good man. Your parents, Grace, they were good people too. Sometimes, good people make bad choices. I have to tell you more truths than you want to hear. Your parents, they didn't want this life for you. Your grandfather, this life was all he ever wanted for you. When your mother died and you were lost to us. Your father chose a very dark path. Grace, Nathaniel never gave up hope. The last twenty-four years of his life, Grace. Every second of it was spent on you.

"I...I brought you home, Grace, in part, to fulfill my promise to him and my duty to the pack, but also for my own selfish reasons. I thought you deserved to know the truth or at least that's the lie I told myself. It was only partially true. The real reason was because I have loved you since before you were born." Han holds up a hand to silence my questions and begs me just to hear him out.

"Until last night, I didn't begin to comprehend your side of things. That you may not want this life...this gift you've been given. If I had possessed the slightest bit of foresight I would have left you alone. Left you to live the life you had instead of the one your grandfather and I wanted for you. Magic...I don't know...something bigger than possibly the universe itself makes us what we are. Only when we're together can it be activated. Grace, if I hadn't brought you back...if you'd never come...you would have stayed exactly how you were. You would have lived a completely normal human life. In bringing you here I've robbed you of that. In giving you the truth I've taken away something you had every right to. For that more than anything I am so very sorry."

I digest Han's words and sit in silence. I can see that he wants to come to me. That he needs contact with me, but he settles for sitting on the floor and leaning against the wall. His expression is riddled with guilt and his eyes barely hazard to meet mine. I don't know what my eyes reveal. I can't begin to understand how he can love me now or how he could have loved me before I was ever born. Right now, I can't wrap my mind around something that complex and realize that I truly have nothing easy or simple to think about instead. "Then what I think is saw last night was real. That...I am...I am a werewolf," I say.

"Yes."

I blow out a breath and steel myself for more truths that I'm not ready to hear. "I have no choice?"

"Grace, you always have a choice. If you leave the reach of pack magic the wolf will cease to exist. It's a ruse though. The wolf, no matter how far you run, is always with you. Can you honestly tell me you've ever felt at home or truly fit in anywhere? I have no doubt you loved your adoptive parents, but a part of you always knew they weren't family. I know you loved L.A., but a part of you always felt that you weren't where you belonged. These are your people, Grace. This is your home. Deep down inside you know it. Living a life without your wolf is like living life without a limb or one of your senses. It's possible, and it can be good, but you never get over the feeling that something is missing. For once in your life, Grace, don't you want to know what it is like to be whole?"

"You share your skin with a wolf and you talk to me about feeling whole!" I'm furious and at the same time feel so much pity for Han. The longing in his eyes rips a hole in my heart. "I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask for you to love me. I can't even understand that. You're almost two hundred years old. To you, I must seem like such a child. You say you were selfish and I agree. You stole my life from me. As much as I despise you for what you've done. I feel drawn to you and I hate that even more. I want the right to choose my destiny for myself. Don't you get that?"