The Divine Gambit

9. The White Wolf

I awakened, twitching violently as I startled myself fully conscious in a single moment. The bedsheets around me were cold and clammy, disgustingly sticking to my skin, indicating that I had sweat profusely throughout the night. My heartbeat raced dangerously, my lungs were powerfully churning air even as it burned in my throat, and my mind was wandering in a thousand terrifying directions simultaneously.

For the first time in my life, I had woken up and had a picture-perfect, crystal-clear recollection of a dream. I never dreamed. Perhaps once a year, at most, would I even remember having experienced a dream, and even then, I wouldn’t remember what had happened. I could recall exactly what I had experienced the previous night, and it terrified me. Someone, or more accurately, something, had tried to contact me in a way that wouldn’t be traceable or recordable. I had accepted their solicitation and allowed them into me. It had made sense in the mind-numbing quasi-reality I had endured.

The worst part of the morning was what I saw when I opened my eyes and looked around the bedroom. I found two sets of aghast irises looking back. One green set, concerned yet determined, adjacent to a pale blue pair filled with longing and regret, with tears forming at the edges. I tried to speak and found my mouth dry and scratchy, no words forthcoming.

Beth took the opportunity and spoke softly, “Are you back with us?”

I coughed and rubbed my eyes, trying to clear the insanity from my mind. It was in no hurry to depart.

“What do you mean? Did I leave?”

Beth shook her head, “No, you had some kind of freak out. Started mumbling a couple hours ago, enough to wake me up. I didn’t think anything about it until you started seizing and crying out in pain.”

The tears on the precipice of Sam’s eyes came forth freely, and she said, “I thought you were being attacked by someone. I thought you were dying. Please tell me you’re okay. Please.” Her final utterance had the hoarse quality of someone honestly begging and beyond their wit's end.

The anguish evident in her voice physically hurt me, and I realized that while I was still in bed, they had kept their distance cautiously. I lifted my arm and motioned them to me, and I was instantly pinned back down onto the bed as a hysterical Sam leaped into my arms. Beth took a decidedly more conservative route, walking around the bed and sliding across it into my other arm. I could recognize through our connection that she was reassured that I was alright and felt that we needed to work together to comfort Sam.

Sam clung onto my shoulders and lay directly on my chest as she attempted to control herself. Her tears slowed, and she held me tightly, her face pressed firmly into my neck. For the first time since I woke, I noticed what she was wearing: a snug, wispy crop tank top and a lacy pair of hipster panties. I assumed that was what she used as pajamas and that Beth had gotten her directly from bed. I tried to simply hold her, brushing her back with my hand to comfort her and ignore the feeling of her supple flesh against my body with only the barely perceptible clothing separating us.

As she practically burrowed into my chest, her breathing gradually calmed. Another minute passed, and I fought to not recognize the absurdity of having a scantily clad woman I had yearned after for years clinging onto me in my bed without anyone trying to get us here. I didn’t want to have that kind of reaction now. I still wasn’t confident where Sam and I stood, especially after the Zoey bombshell was dropped on her.

Surprisingly, Sam spoke first, asking a provocative question of Beth, “Why are you so calm? How are you not freaking out? I thought you said you loved him.” Her final sentence had a level of venom I hadn’t anticipated and which was wholly uncalled for.

Beth smiled patiently, allowing the barbed comment to pass right by, and brought her hand to cup Sam’s face as she responded, “I can feel his mind, remember? He isn’t freaking out. He also isn’t full of his usual doubts, so maybe you should come in here crying every morning.”

Sam tightened her gaze onto Beth, the comments failing to lighten the mood as intended. I brushed some of Sam’s hair out of her face and cupped her cheek, returning her focus to me.

“Are you alright to talk now? I have questions about what happened — what you saw and what I experienced.”

Sam nodded, not recovered to her baseline but clear enough to discuss what she and Beth had seen.

I looked at the clock and tried to steady my mind. The dream I had experienced was still clear in my memory — more evidence that it wasn’t a simple dream — but I hadn’t felt like I was truly interacting with something. I felt like I was watching a recording of myself making decisions, except that I had no recollection of making them until after I saw them displayed openly.

The clock said that it was after seven am. I had two hours and some change before meeting Zoey at the gym for a workout and, hopefully, a flying lesson. Plenty of time for an honest discussion. The time also suggested that it would be reasonable for everyone else to be up, especially if they had heard Beth and Sam reacting earlier.

I called out towards the doorway, “Cynthia! Could I bother you for a few minutes?”

Sam tensed up on top of me, her arms tightening the grip that had only begun to loosen. Beth calmly grabbed one of my shirts and draped it over herself, entirely consumed by the unsuitably large garment. I pulled the blanket of the bed up and over myself, covering three-quarters of the three of us.

Sam met my eyes, absolute panic in her eyes. She hissed out, “What are you doing? Mom’s going to think…”

Beth whispered back, “Isn’t that exactly what we want her to think?”

Sam’s terrified eyes ricocheted between the two of us, unable to make an utterance in response and frozen in place. That place was straddling me in bed, a hair's breadth away from nude, with her mother seconds away from entering the room.

Cynthia’s footsteps filled the hall, her light footfalls the only sound aside from Sam’s racing heartbeat. An excruciating moment later, Cynthia stood in the doorway, carefully and gracefully opening the door. When she recognized what she saw in the room, her eyebrow raised precisely as it had last night.

She confidently continued, bypassing any awkward moment, and sat down in the office chair for the desk, spinning it to face the three of us in the bed.

“I hope that’s not what you have questions about, is it?”

Before I had a chance to form my thoughts into words, Beth answered. “James had some kind of seizure this morning. I was concerned and got Sam, who thought it was a magical attack, a hex or curse perhaps, and we both became really upset. James eventually came to and seems okay now, and he comforted Sam. He has some questions and wants you here, so he wouldn’t be repeating them.”

Cynthia nodded, looked to me, awaiting the questions, and muttered under her breath, “About time she got some of that comforting.”

I was stunned that I had heard her. Neither of the girls reacted in any way, suggesting that the comment hadn’t been audible enough to perceive normally. Sam would’ve been mortified to know that her mother did indeed think we had done the deed this morning. With no other real choice, I pressed on.

“Are there things out there significantly more powerful than dragons? Not marginally stronger; significantly probably isn’t even enough magnitude. Exponentially. Things that would make a dragon look more like an insect.”

Cynthia’s eyes widened, and she paused a moment before returning my question with one of her own, “You’re not speaking hypothetically, are you? You met something.”

I swallowed. “Yeah. I had a dream, I think, last night. Something was trying to communicate with me. Showed me a lot of things that I didn’t understand.”

Cynthia shivered and shook her head, “No. To answer your question, no. Many things out there are stronger than you currently, but they are stronger by a factor of two or five, not a hundred. They would destroy you through their experience and knowledge, but there is nothing I am aware of that would be able to exponentially dwarf you in terms of raw magical capacity.”

“So then, is there a way to spoof your magical energy? Project yourself as having more power than you actually contain? And can you do that while connecting yourself to another being in a dream?”

Cynthia shook her head again. “Sorry, James. There are ways to hide your maximum energy and some ways to project larger, but they wouldn’t give you the kind of significance you’re speaking of. Doubling your innate presence, perhaps. It shouldn’t have been even able to contact you; The apartment walls are warded against divination and then again at the property lines outside. Without you inviting the connection, it shouldn’t have been possible. Of course, our conceived protections might not be viable against something incomprehensibly powerful.”

I had a thought. A terrifying thought that combined some of what I dreamed and some of my fading engineering lessons.

“What if it didn’t have to? What if it was inside? What if it was here already?”

Now Cynthia was looking at me with the same terrified look her daughter had, and the similarities were immense. Of course, the cause was vastly different.

“James, I swear, I didn’t invite anythi-”

“Relax, Cynthia. God, ask Beth. Accusing you, or anyone else here, of sabotaging me wasn’t even in my head.” Beth helpfully nodded, affirming what I had said. “I think that it was piggybacking on me. I think it was already inside me, so it didn’t need to bypass defenses. I think it needed me but wasn’t ready for what it had to do before last night. Frankly, I would speculate that it's been around since long before I met Beth and everything changed.”

I sighed and moved my hand on Sam’s back to hold her hips into mine, where they belonged, “I don’t really know. I guess I’ll describe it to Antonin. It was surreal, an Escher drawing come to life. I don’t understand what it was, but it didn’t seem threatening. I don’t think it meant to hurt me, but it felt like it was out of time. Agh, I don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about. Thanks for listening to me.”

Cynthia nodded and then asked, “Beth? Would you like to help me make breakfast?”

Beth quickly agreed and followed Cynthia out into the hallway. Somehow she had slyly slipped into underwear during our discussion because while she hadn’t been wearing any before, I caught glimpses of red underneath my long-hanging shirt. I had no idea how she could have done that without being noticed, especially when I could feel remnants of her thoughts.

Sam gasped, taking the first deep breath since her mother had entered the room. After a moment of nervousness, she said, “Well, she didn’t disown me.”

“I doubt she would even consider the idea. You know we’re adults, right?”

Sam sighed, “No, I know. She’s great. It’s just my own anxieties. With her blessing, I acted out like a rebellious teenager to try and have normal interactions at school. I can’t help but want to be perfect for her now, though. I feel like I’m letting her down.”

“You didn’t hear her when Beth explained what happened, did you?”

Sam’s face swung up to look at me, her soft blue eyes searching my face for any sign of fabrication. Finding none, she shook her head.

“She whispered that it was 'about time.' I think you have her blessing.”

Sam frowned, marring her beautiful features, “No. I don’t have it until I actually talk to her about it.”

“Do you have to? That seems… archaic? Too deferential, perhaps? You are allowed to make your own decisions.”

“You’re right. I’m not letting her decide, but I want a good relationship with her if I can salvage it. It’s not like you get a second mother.”

I laughed and merrily added, “I’m not sure about that — Beth seems to have found one.”

A determined look came over Sam, and she sat up, straddling my hips and allowing the blanket to fall further down the bed. She was bewitchingly attractive, and I struggled to contain my inevitable physical response, especially when I could perceive her arousal blending with the scent of my own.

She spoke with steely solidity in her voice that had been absent since the previous night, “Indeed. I’m happy for her. I’m fine sharing; I just don’t want to be pushed out. However, it’s time to get up. You need to eat something before you go to the gym, and for some reason, my dumb ass agreed to go with Beth. This is going to be miserable.”

“You could always not go.”

The fervent focus her gaze shifted into left no doubts about her dedication, “Not a chance. I told Beth I would go. And I agree with her idea — living here for free with you might as well be a vacation for me. You need to do this, so I will support you.” She ended her statement with a sharp nod, unintentionally jostling her entire body. Her full breasts wobbled from the sudden motion, and her feeble shirt barely contained them. I placed my hands on her hips and lifted her off me, gently placing her on the side of the bed before she noticed my arousal growing between her legs.

Perhaps she did notice anyway because an embarrassed Sam hugged me and then gaily walked back to her room, leaving me to dress for the day in solitude. She had paused as the hug ended, her desire for something growing in the moment before she withdrew. I threw on some athletic clothes and made a short detour to the bathroom, where in addition to preparing for the day, I collected the towel Zoey told me to bring. I had no idea what it was intended for, but I stuffed it and a bottle of water into a drawstring bag to bring with me.

Breakfast was light fare. Cynthia had simply had Beth warm some bagels and apply an assortment of toppings so that the rest of us could select the ones we wanted. Beth seemed happy to merely have the interactions and reassurance. They were pretty good, and she again practically glowed when she received praise.

After a few matronly comments from Cynthia, asking if I was sure I should be working out after the morning incident, our morning was concluded. Evgenia joined us partway through and commented that she had to return to the office to file some paperwork and retrieve new forms. She did mention that she had a couple appointments in the afternoon to talk with Aisling’s contacts about what I would be permitted to do and when. That was comforting. She cautiously took one of the bagels with peanut butter on it, glancing back and forth between Cynthia and me as she did so.

Beth had gotten dressed while I ate and returned wearing a tiny pair of spandex shorts that honestly could’ve been mistaken for underwear and a sports bra that was practically only a couple threads connecting a clasp. I took a double take when she entered the dining room, confounded by the provocative outfit she had selected. She came over and sat down in my lap, as she was fond of doing, and wrapped an arm around me.

“Feeling confident today?” I offered.

She leaned her head against me and said, “Actually, not really. I kinda figured that I could even show up naked, and no one would notice because Sam’s next to me.”

Conveniently, Sam came and joined us at that time. She wore a pair of blue and grey yoga pants that encapsulated her lower half and presented it enticingly. Her plain, loose t-shirt and grey zip-up hoodie didn’t detract from her appearance. Instead, she perfectly embodied the lazy Saturday morning look that other girls spent hours trying to accomplish, effortlessly beautiful to her own detriment. Beth wasn’t wrong — next to Sam, she looked like an overeager teenager compensating for her insecurities, which was surprisingly close to the truth.

The three of us made our way to the veranda of the building, where Sam and Beth hugged me. Beth kissed me before stepping back and smiling at Sam, who cautiously approached me.

“You don’t have to feel pressured to do this,” I softly told her.

Instead of the reassurance that I was hoping to feel, I could smell the scent of nervousness and the feeling of rejection. Instead of calming her by offering an out, I caused her to think I wasn’t interested in her kiss. As I began to understand the feelings, she took a halting, confused step backward, her eyes down and away from me.

I stepped into Sam and pulled her supple body into contact with mine. I slid a hand across her forehead, sliding her sanguine hair off her face before gently cupping the back of her neck. I slowly leaned near her face, my eyes locked with her cerulean ones. My nose brushed against hers, I felt the sharp reactionary intake of breath, and my mouth was a centimeter away from connecting with hers.

I paused momentarily, listening to the racing sound of her heartbeat, before closing my eyes and kissing her. It was calm and chaste compared to when I had kissed Beth, but Sam melted into my embrace and pressed her body against mine. Her arms wrapped around my head, and she let out a little whimper when my other hand pressed the small of her back, holding her tightly against me.

It was only a few moments, but its impact on Sam was immense. I relinquished my hold on her body and lifted my head from hers. She took a deep breath and instinctively licked her lips before biting the lower one, then reopened her eyes and allowed me to see the hazy, distracted azure irises. She let out a small “Wow” before blinking and looking at me.

Beth had waited as long as possible before interjecting, and she exclaimed, “God, that’s just the hottest thing ever.”

Sam stepped back, returning to a comfortable distance from me, and bashfully internalized that Beth had watched the entire thing and liked it.

Beth gleefully crushed an unprepared Sam in a hug before saying, “That was amazing! I’m so happy for you. Thank you for sharing him with me.”

Sam was lost entirely — being thanked for kissing the man Beth was soulbound to not being high on her expectations for the day — and looked at me as the dainty woman hugged her and released joyful noises. I shrugged. I understood Beth's words to explain her reasoning, but the meaning didn’t resonate with me. If there was a guy who was sweet on Beth a couple weeks ago, I was not interested in working out an arrangement with him. Of course, she was only here because no one like that existed, so it was a moot point, but the hypocritical thought remained.

Beth kissed Sam’s cheek and then turned to me and said, “Okay, loverboy, you got your goodbye kisses, and you’re the one on a timetable. Don’t be late; you have a werewolf to claim.”

I could not bring myself to understand how Beth was alright with all of this, and I stood there speechless as she took Sam’s hand and whispered conspiratorially to the voluptuous woman as they maneuvered down the sidewalk. I wondered if they had talked this morning and planned on each kissing me or if it was a spontaneous occurrence. I genuinely hoped that Sam understood what she was getting into and that she wasn’t just impulsively chasing her whale, but I wasn’t sure I understood what she was getting into.

I let the thoughts of her kiss linger as I rode public transit to the city center and walked to the gym again. I scanned the key tag Zoey had procured for me and walked up the awkwardly designed staircase to the second floor.

The same disinterested guy was here, again watching something on his laptop. I approached the counter and asked, “Hey man, do you know if Zoey’s around?”

He removed one of his headphone pads and answered without looking up at me, “Nah, not yet. She only has the one appointment today, so she should be here soon.” He replaced the headphones when he concluded, evidently disinclined to continue the conversation. I glanced at the analog clock on the wall above him — I was twenty minutes early intentionally. I had wanted to try and talk to Zoey before she got fully into her exercise mode and blocked me out.