Werewolves sounded like big cats when they yowled. A sound which was half-man and so deep that it shook the bones and reverberated in every direction.
Wild Thing prowled between the thick conifers in search of her sister. Sister subverted the idea that werewolves were loud victors and quiet hunters. The sound cut, and Sister rushed from a jut of terrain above her, kicking up dirt and dead leaves which rained down on Wild Thing. Sister chuffed in greeting, and Wild Thing sneezed in response before she shook herself.
Moonlight broke through the towering evergreens and caught Sister's deep reddish-brown coat as she stood bipedal. She was larger than an average female werewolf, standing at nine-feet, but had the same slim build and broad head. Sister's tail was sweeping the floor and relaxed, without the usual curl of confidence.
Wild Thing chuffed and leapt onto the ledge to see what had caught Sister's interest. On the nights surrounding the full moon, it was Wild Thing who was at the forefront, but she was more than an animal. Human intelligence glinted in her yellow eyes. She was no less capable of critical thought than her human counterpart, but she lacked the same sentimentality. Wild Thing compartmentalized creatures and people into three categories: threat, non-threat, and ally.
Smoke danced down the mountain, far enough that it was outside their territory. Opposite direction from their den. Probably human. Not near enough to be a threat. Not worth the calories it'd take to eat them. Humans were a non-factor to Wild Thing, but Sister had always been more territorial. She canted her head, cocked an ear to listen, then snorted. Sister wanted to investigate, but they wouldn't have the time to do so and make it back before sunrise.
When Wild Thing turned to follow Sister from the ledge, the scent beyond the smell of smoke stopped her short. She could read the distant presence of a male werewolf. She stood and peered around, her keen eyes cutting through every shadow cast by the trees. Sister stopped and looked up at her. Her ears twitched with interest. Wild Thing's nose was superior to Sister's, and Sister had long ago learned to trust Wild Thing's instinct.
Sister mimicked Wild Thing's posture, standing perfectly still, with her ears swiveling as she listened. Nothing. Only the distant chatter of nocturnal critters and a low, coke-bottle whistle brought on by the wind and trees. Wild Thing hesitated before she dropped to all fours and jumped to the ground. Sister hesitated, still listening, then went on.
The pair had spent the night traversing their territory and strengthening the borders against would-be intruders. If there was a werewolf nearby, he had not stepped foot in their land.
Sister ran and Wild Thing followed into the pitch black, until light cusped the horizon in splashes of pink and red, and the wolves slept, satisfied with a night of activity.
When they returned to the perimeter of their home, Senna won control over Wild Thing and started the shift back to human skin. When flesh shrank and fur pulled back into pores, leaving her bare and pink as her body contorted. The pain was so excruciating that Senna and Calla could only groan.
Calla could push herself and quicken the change, but Senna had never been successful in doing the same. The harder Senna forced it, the slower her change became. The fear that she would be stuck between forms, with her body misshapen and in agony, was so great that she couldn't relax. When all her will was gone and she had overextended herself, her body froze, teetered, and the change reached its tipping point. It happened all at once, and her body snapped into place. Pain mixed with pleasure as the change completed.
She collapsed to the ground, sweaty and breathing hard, and skin so raw that even the air stung. Senna's change took upward of fifteen minutes, but Calla was already human. She'd changed fast enough that she had time to compose herself and waited. Calla knew how long it took Senna's pain to subside before offering her a hand, and Senna took it. Calla changing first and picking Senna up had become a ritual.
They were silent the few yards back to their house, where clothes waited for them just inside and the familiar scent of home eased Senna's sore muscles. Calla went to take a shower, readying herself for her day shift at the coffee shop in town ten miles down the mountain. Senna didn't have to worry about rushing. She worked remotely.
Senna waited on the couch, having only dressed in her underwear to keep from dirtying her fresh clothing. Calla was drying her thick hair with a towel when she exited the bathroom, looking as grumpy and exhausted as she had before she went in. "Let's try to hold off on changing tomorrow night."
Senna's eyebrow nearly rose off her forehead. It was uncharacteristic of Calla not to give into the pull of the change on the nights before and following the full moon, when the wolf was close and a change was likely, but not guaranteed.
"Don't think I can go another day without sleep," Calla grumbled. She threw the now damp towel at Senna.
"I'll change and look for the werewolf I smelled if we don't run into him tonight." Senna caught the towel and set it at her side on the beaten couch.
Calla shook her head, face impassive. "I don't want you doing that without me. Either we both change or neither of us does."
If another werewolf had lived nearby when Calla and Senna first looked at the property six months ago, both would have known. There weren't enough werewolves for Senna to feel comfortable chalking it up to a coincidence, and Calla's face told Senna she was thinking the same thing.
"Maybe we should move," Senna said.
"And let him win? Fuck no. Try to get some rest. We both don't need to be tired tonight."
"I'll try." But Senna knew she wouldn't be sleeping. Between the full moon and their unwanted guest, she was restless.
Calla snorted and nabbed her keys from the bowl by the door. "Call me if you see anything."
Senna tapped away at the keys, reading her email over several times to get the tone just right. Professional communications were the only human interaction she had since her and Calla's change five years ago. It'd have bothered her had she not been an introvert. It suited her better than monster hunting ever had.
She sent off the email and collected her coffee to prepare for work. Senna leaned over her desk to open the window so the smell of the wild would consume her. Fresh air was the greatest perk of living on the side of a mountain. The smell of pine was near overpowering, but through it she scented animals and a familiar musk that churned her stomach.
Senna froze and took a concentrated sniff, closing her eyes to focus on her nose. Werewolf. Male. Same as last night, but much closer. Smoke and cologne overlaid the scent, but she recognized it all the same. She and Calla had left their old lives behind--Senna had left
him
behind--but here he was to ruin every bit of personal growth she'd managed.
Even a state away, he'd been too close, but in her front yard, it was like he was breathing on her neck. Senna cursed and snapped the window shut. Not that it would help her. He must have already known she was there. There was no other reason he'd have come. She growled and beelined for the door.
Wes had his hand up to knock when she threw the door open. They stood, waiting for the other to react first. His shoulders relaxed, and he put on that amiable smile that had melted her the first time she'd seen it. Hell, it melted her now. And angered her. She couldn't tell whether the irritation came from her or the wolf; she felt equal parts both right then, just as Wes was equal parts terrible and wonderful.
"I thought you wouldn't open the door." He shoved his hands into the pockets of his oversized light jacket, waiting for her to collect herself.
Had he waited until Calla was gone, or was Senna attributing maliciousness to him where there was none? Nothing in his body language suggested awkwardness, which struck her as strange, considering their last encounter.
Senna leaned against the door. She'd kept it half closed, ready to snap it shut at a moment's notice. Senna never knew herself more than when she was with Wes. She knew that if he asked to come inside, she wouldn't deny him.
