Wolf's Girl

The inspiration for this story came from a conversation with a friend years ago. If she finds this, I hope she remembers it as fondly as I do. :)

This romance is a slow burn. I hope you find it worth the read. Enjoy!

-- OM

Notes: Some of the characters are werewolves but the sex is human only.

Trigger Warnings: Some horror and non-sexualized violence.

——— = ———

Long after everyone else had departed the pack meeting, Giles and Carson sat on the back porch steps in silence. They were both Caucasian men in their mid-forties, but that's where the similarities ended. Giles' hulking frame dwarfed his otherwise perfectly normal, average-sized friend seated beside him. The larger of the two, with his short beard and long wavy hair, looked like he belonged in another time and place, maybe trapping furs and forging new frontiers through the Alaskan wilderness. Carson's buttoned-down appearance and glasses made him appear more at home in a modern, glass-walled office building.

Giles also happened to be a werewolf.

Carson was too agitated to to enjoy the cool evening, but Giles looked up and lost himself in the view of mountains in the distance. A few stars already shone above the treeline. The night would be clear for stargazing.

"Explain it to me again, because I don't see the logic," Carson asked.

Giles answered in his deep, throaty voice, "It's like this. The worst thing you can do for a young romance is encourage it. Having your parents tell you who you should find attractive is the worst. Sometimes young people want what they can't have. You should know all about that." He grinned at his friend.

Carson managed a smile at their private joke. In the thirty-plus years they'd known each other, only one thing had come close to terminating their friendship — an argument over the woman Carson would eventually marry. But that business had long since been settled. "Yeah, okay," he admitted.

"And Macks is feeling trapped here," Giles explained. "She's headstrong. She gets that from you, you know. More'n likely, she'll go without your permission anyway. So, if she brings it up, let her go to California. Support her choice. See how it plays out for a while." Truthfully, Giles admired Carson's daughter for her spirit and energy. Mackenzie was a force of nature. If he was a younger man... but Giles stopped his thoughts well before he wandered into fantasy.

"You mean the scholarship she applied for without telling us and still thinks I don't know about," Carson said with irritation. "What if she never comes back? What if she falls in love with someone there? Or gets pregnant or falls in with the wrong crowd? There's so many ways this could go wrong."

Giles laughed and shook his head. "Macks has always been responsible. Her outburst tonight... she had some good points. Forcing her to marry Connor --"

"I'd never force her. I just think she's not seeing the big picture. She's being selfish. And rude to Connor, quite frankly."

Giles huffed. "My nephew has looks, but he's kind of a moron when it comes to girls. I don't blame her for putting her foot down. Connor can win her over, in time. He just... needs to grow up a little."

Carson sighed. "Connor's fine. He's just young. So is she. All couples have to work at the relationship. They'd get used to each other if she just gave him a chance."

"She gave him a chance last year and he royally screwed it up," Giles laughed tiredly.

Carson said nothing. This part was true. He picked a piece of grass off of his pants and flicked it away.

Giles continued, "Besides, this is her home. And you're her family. She loves it here. She loves being outdoors, loves the animals, the trees, the fishing. She even likes snow. You think she'll be happy in a big city, and one that far south? Her whole goal is to work for the Park Service. She'll be back. And in the meantime, I'll work on Connor." He put a hand on Carson's shoulder. "She'll be okay. She will."

Carson just shook his head. Having his daughter leave home, to go so far away, to trust her to handle herself, and trust that she would return; it was a lot to ask. So much could happen to her. He peered at his friend, "Since when did you become the smart one?"

"Maybe all your lecturing over the years finally sunk in," Giles answered with a grin. "Or cooling my ass in jail a few times actually did me some good."

Carson laughed.

——— = ———

Mackenzie Innes had her nose in a textbook. Her first year of classes in California had been tough and they wouldn't get any easier before the semester was over. She had been afraid, at first, of being on her own in a new city, but she'd persevered. She was proud of how hard she'd worked. Her work ethic and common sense had even managed to impress a couple of notoriously tough professors.

She kept in regular touch with her family back home. Her father had given her a stack of phone cards and a brand new 2002 flip phone so that she could call whenever she wanted. Shockingly, her parents never brought up her betrothal or asked when she would move back home or anything. They offered to pay for her to fly back for the summer but Mack thought she should take a job, and they agreed it was the sensible thing to do. They asked about school (fine, thanks), they asked if she was dating (no, no one in her life), but they gave her her freedom. It was a novel and welcome change from the way they'd treated her growing up. She sometimes wondered why they were doing this, but didn't dare question it.

A knock at the door interrupted her studies. Still muttering passages from her textbook to herself, she got up and looked through the peephole.

You have got to be kidding me.

She opened it. "Connor?

What

are you doing here?"

"Surprise!" he said, greeting her with a toothy grin. It was the same old Connor. "Look! Flowers." He produced a small bouquet of yellow daisies from behind his back.

Connor had never once, not once, brought flowers when they were officially dating. Mack laughed and accepted them. As she held them in her hands and took in their scent, she realized they really did brighten her mood. "Thank you. Okay, since you've come all this way," she said, shaking her head, "you may as well come in."

Had Mackenzie known then that Connor would be dead in less than a fortnight, she would have greeted him with more warmth.

"Thanks! Wow, what a shithole," Conner remarked, dropping his dufflebag just inside the door.

It was true. Her apartment was terrible. It badly needed paint and the carpet was stained. It was full of old furniture that she'd either picked up off the street or found in thrift stores. She'd made a genuine effort at fixing it up, but there was no distracting anyone from the lack of professional maintenance.

"Yeah, yeah, okay. So, what

are

you doing here? Did my dad send you?" She sniffed the flowers again.

"No way. I came down here because I missed you. How've you been, Mackie?"

Mack squinted one eye at the total lie, but let it go. "I've been good. Making mostly A's. What have you been up to?"

"Mostly A's?" Connor lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Did you blow your professors? C'mon, you can tell me."

Mack pinched the bridge of her nose. He was going to drive her insane if he stuck around for more than an hour. "No, I did not blow my professors. Most of them are women this semester anyway, so—"

Connor sucked in air like he'd stumbled on

just

the right video on his favorite porn site. "Oooh, hot."

Mack replied flatly, "I swear, I don't care how long it took you to get here, I will toss that dufflebag right out the door."

Connor laughed, "No, but seriously, can I crash here for a while? I really want to see the city anyway, so..."

Mack tapped her fingers on the door frame and took a long moment before she answered. She squinted her eyes as she studied him with deep suspicion. "Okay. But ground rules first. No grabbing my ass. No fondling my boobs or snapping my bra strap. No surprising me in the shower. And if I catch you sniffing my underwear-"

"When they're on or off?" Before Mack could yell at him, Connor laughed, "Okay, okay, sorry. Rules accepted. Now, I haven't had anything to eat all day except beef jerky and shitty airline food, and I'm a werewolf. So... where's the nearest place that serves ribs?"

"I can't afford to eat out. I have some ramen—"

"No worries. My parents gave me spending money. It'll be my treat."

Mack hesitated. Not counting cafeterias or fast food, she had not eaten out in a real restaurant in a long time. "This is not a date."

Connor put his hands up in surrender and grinned. "Not a date."

—————

Mack and Connor spent the next week hanging out during her free time. He never pressured her for anything, never brought up old business, just talked and hung out. Truthfully, he seemed more excited to explore a new place than to see her, which was fine. She strongly suspected someone had sent him down to check on her, but he never brought it up and she never pressed the subject. Doing so would mean bringing up the whole issue of marriage and both of them knew where that subject lead.

That Friday, Connor insisted they dress up and go out. He surprised her by pulling a pair of dark slacks, a white shirt, a belt, and a tie out of his dufflebag. Feeling in a certain mood, she slipped into a short floral dress with a flirty little skirt and thin shoulder straps. She also insisted, very seriously, this was still not a date. Connor agreed.

They enjoyed a beautifully prepared meal in a romantic little Italian place but Mackenzie wouldn't have guessed that from the way her dinner companion behaved. Mack would never have told him this, but the way he ate reminded her of an overexcited family dog. She watched in awe and amusement as Connor spooned up large helpings of gelato and sucked them down. "Oh my god, why is this so much better than regular ice cream?" he blurted out. He'd already finished a plate of spaghetti and meatballs and an entire basket of garlic bread by himself, and now she would have to duel him with her spoon if she wanted any more of the dessert.

Mack dug in and helped herself to a large spoonful, then closed her eyes as she took her time to savor the rich vanilla. It had been a while since she'd had a treat like this.

Connor stopped moving as his gaze locked on her mouth. His lips parted as he watched her lick the thick white cream off with her pink tongue. Red-headed, pale, freckled girls who sucked their spoons clean would now be one of his many weaknesses. He set his own utensil down.

"You know, Mackie, there is a reason I came all the way down here," he said, his voice soft and full of meaning.

Oh no. Here it comes.

Mack listened, but also helped herself to another spoonful of gelato.

"I have something very important to tell you." Connor gently took the spoon from her hand and laid it down. He clasped both of her hands adoringly in his own.

No. No no no no no.

Mack didn't fight his attempt to hold her hands, but pressed her lips together and braced herself.

"I... wanna bang you so hard." Connor held his deadpan expression expertly as he dropped the punchline.

Mack sputtered, laughing.

Connor laughed too. "I mean it! I've been so good all week, just watching you walk around your apartment in thin t-shirts and no bra and all I can think about is how easy it would be to yank down your yoga pants and ram it in. I want to bend you over this table right now and..." He let go of her hands and started rudely gesturing, slamming his hands together. He punctuated each slap with

unf unf

unf

sound effects.

Mack grabbed his hands and shushed him while still trying not to laugh too loudly. She blushed outrageously. "Oh my god! We're in a nice restaurant! Please stop."

Connor giggled and switched to a whisper. "I'm so serious. I just wanna, like, watch your breasts bounce while I pound you. Uncle Giles told me about this one trick where you rub the girl's clit while y—"

Mack cut him off with harsh a whisper of her own, "You. Are. The. Worst. And you

never

paid attention to my clit when we were together. I don't even think you could find it with both hands and a headlamp."

"You wanna try me? I've picked up a few moves." Connor asked with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

Mack blushed again. She pressed her lips together and breathed through her nose. Should she? On the one hand, it was a really bad idea. On the other, it was an even worse idea. In spite of the fact that their families expected her to someday submit to him as his mate, she knew there was no hope for a future with Connor. But he was cute. He had a nicely muscular chest and dark hair that swept his eyes. And she hadn't had sex since... well, since that one guy she hooked up with after she walked in on Connor getting head from some girl at a party two years ago.

"The only way I'm fucking you is with a condom."

Connor's face immediately brightened. Was that the only catch? "Okay!"

Connor paid for dinner and they quickly left the restaurant, both of them feeling a little flushed and heady with anticipation. Once on the sidewalk, Connor's hand slipped down to give her ass a little squeeze through her thin sundress. Mack giggled.

Too wrapped up in themselves, they never even noticed they were being stalked.

—————

Two days later...

Mack and Connor stumbled out of the urine-stained stairwell and onto the second floor of the parking garage. Their laughter echoed through the structure, vibrating across the mostly empty floor. It was 12:30am and Mack's car was only one of a handful still waiting for their owners. One of the fluorescent light fixtures flickered as they passed it.

"Oh man. That scene with the pitchfork was the best." Connor laughed. He mimed his eyeballs being impaled and made a gross squelching noise.

Mack cringed and laughed. "Oh my god, no. Face it, there was nothing redeeming about that movie at all. It wasn't even 'so bad it's good'. It was just bad. If we go to the movies again before you head back, I get to pick something cute and funny because I hate going home all creeped out."

"But I'm with you, Mackie. Your big, scary werewolf will protect you," Connor teased. He slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her close with clear intent.

"Shh! Did you hear that?" Mack's whole body tensed. A shuffling noise echoed through their level, accompanied by something she couldn't quite place. Air movement? Breathing? She strained to hear the odd sound again.

Connor glanced up. "Probably some homeless—"

"See? It's that stupid movie making me all jumpy. Let's get out of here." Mack was already moving toward her beat up sedan as she dug for the keys in her purse. She glanced up when she realized Connor wasn't following. He stood about ten feet back, sniffing the air, nostrils twitching.

"Connor?"

"Get in the car." There was no trace of humor about him now. He stood with feet apart and his posture low and balanced, preparing himself.

Mack, startled by the sudden change in his mood, stared at him. "What?"

"I mean it! Go! Now!"

Mack turned in the direction of her car but what she saw made her blood freeze. A massive, snarling beast bounded straight for her as another flanked them from the side, where it had hidden behind a pillar. She wanted to flee but terror kept her rooted to the floor. Another terrible roar came from behind. Something huge with black fur shoved her aside as it flew past, knocking her to the ground. It was only when she saw the remnants of Connor's clothing dangling from its limbs that she realized who the eight foot beast was. It was one thing to know this truth about Connor — his status was why their families gave him the right to one day claim her as mate — but she'd never seen him like this before. Until this moment she'd only known werewolves in human form, never fully transformed. Shifting was a painful, dangerous process, not without consequences. Changing form was not something one did on a whim.

Mack regained her wits just enough to scramble behind her car just as Connor dealt a solid backhand to the first attacker. The whole car shook as the wolf collided with the other side. She covered her head with her hands and buried her face in her knees, but she couldn't shut out the sounds of battle. Violence surrounded her: smashed glass, enraged growls, the solid snaps of massive jaws, the wet sound of flesh being torn, and then the awful, final whine of a fatally injured canid. The noise stopped but Mack stayed still, shaking all over. She was aware of tears burning her eyes but all she felt was stark fear.

She didn't know how long she remained unmoving in that spot. Five minutes? Half an hour? Eventually, she unfolded her aching limbs and crawled, trembling, on all fours to witness the aftermath.

"Connor?" she whispered. "Connor?"

His body lay sprawled in a pool of blood. So much blood. His form, human again, was mangled by deep, angry gashes. His head tilted at an impossible angle. Mack crawled toward him, sobbing. She gently lifted his head - which moved far too easily — and rested it on her lap. She used her finger to trace matted hair off of his forehead.

With her vision blurred by tears, she looked up and around the empty garage. "Help... please... someone..." Her quavering voice was far too weak to carry.

—————

Mackenzie still felt the need to cry — she should cry for him, she wanted to cry — but the tears wouldn't come. She was too spent, too tired, too numb. She was an empty husk and it felt like she would simply remain this way.

She waited in a hospital visitor's room, her clothes still covered in his blood. She curled herself protectively into a padded chair that was not actually designed to let the occupant rest. The blanket police had given her draped over the seat next to her. It was well after three in the morning, but the fluorescent glare of institutional lights kept her from falling asleep sitting up. Violent flashes of fur, fangs, and claws invaded her thoughts.

An orderly passed by the entrance to the waiting room and did a doubletake when he spotted her. Mack belatedly realized how alarming she must look. Blood splattered her white blouse and pale jeans. A large red spot on her right leg still marked where she had cradled Connor's head until the paramedics arrived — not that there was a chance anyone could have saved him.

Mack had been Connor's betrothed but they were never in love. Their few months of real dating had just been to make her family happy. For someone who was part wolf, he certainly didn't seem to have any instinct to mate for life. Connor loved girls, loved life, and loved himself more than anything else. And yet, he was such a dork sometimes she couldn't really hate him. He was like his jokes: gross and idiotic, but they made her laugh. It was only now that she wondered if anyone else was a closer friend to her.

It took her a moment to realize she wouldn't hear him laugh again.

"Ms. Innes?" The arrival of a nurse in blue scrubs interrupted her morbid thoughts. The nurse knelt down next to her chair and spoke quietly. "I'm sorry you've had to wait for so long. It's been a busy night in the emergency room. If you can hang on just a little while longer, one of the police officers will be back soon."

"Okay," Mack answered. In her dazed state, she wondered why she needed more police. She'd already told them everything she could. She reminded herself of the details she'd made up.

Wild dogs. No, she didn't see where they went.

She wished she could tell them not to worry about it, that werewolves were just territorial like that. There was nothing to be done about Connor's death, nothing to investigate, no feral animals to track. Connor's pack would make sure justice was carried out. But that conversation would start with

yes, werewolves are real

and end with her in a mental facility.