13

Dawn

The pastel glided over the page, a thick black line appearing in it's wake.

I wasn't in control of what I was drawing.

It felt like somebody else was holding my hand, guiding it over the paper and creating an image I hadn't yet figured out. This was the second drawing, and after the first time had turned out badly because I had resisted the force to draw, I had decided to just relax and see what would happen.

So that's what I did.

Intrigued by this mystical force making me sketch, I tested it out by looking away. Robotically, my hand still knew what to do. I jogged the book, and shockingly, it didn't even make a difference to the steady black line printed on the page. What if I fell asleep? Would I still be drawing, despite being unconscious? I lay back on my bed and closed my eyes, settling into the comfort of the mattress. Relaxed, I didn't even notice how long I was there, lulled by the sound of the pastel grazing the paper. It was when my hand stopped that my eyelids flew open.

I glanced down at the book on my lap, scanning the picture before me, drinking in the details.

It was a crescent moon, glowing like a huge fiery torch in the centre of a dark sky. Beneath it, dark trees smudged together and cast shadows onto the ground, detailed enough to depict pine needles in the dirt. Then there was a girl, looking bewildered in the middle of the forest clearing, staring at her hand. Her fingers were elongated, and long nails- claws- protruded from the tips. Her palm seemed thicker and fleshier, with patches of hair covering the skin; then there was the light shading focusing singularly on her hand, making it glow as brightly as the massive crescent moon in the sky.

But what struck me most was the sets of eyes looming in the darkness between the trees. A pair of green eyes floated to her right— where her glowing hand was drawn —and a pair of red ones to her left. I had no recollection of picking up a coloured pencil. I didn't use colours in my sketches, it was my only rule. And yet here, before me, was a drawing I, myself, had not instigated, using colours I did not even own. I felt dizzy as fear washed through me, scared at was was happening. Whatever it was, it wasn't natural.

I gasped suddenly when I noticed something just beneath the drawing.

Words, written in pure white, whiter than the professional sketch paper in my pad.

The power lies within you, Luna.

And that was when I called Hayden.

Hayden

I was in my room, examining the ivory tooth absentmindedly as I lay on my bed, the small piece between my thumb and forefinger. What was it about Dawn that turned my world upside-down? She was completely normal— well, normal l to everybody else. Obviously I didn't feel that way: to me, she was the most extraordinary creature to ever walk the Earth.

And this was coming from a werewolf.

I felt a buzzing in my pocket, scattering my thoughts; I dug into my jeans, finding the offending item and pulling it out. I pressed answer before I even read the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Hayden?" Dawn's voice trickled through the phone, laced with panic. I sat up immediately.

"Dawn, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

"...Um, no— I... Could you come over?" She seemed to be on the verge of tears.

"I'm on my way."

I put my phone in my pocket as I dashed down the stairs and out of the front door, using my strength to push my legs so fast that my surroundings were blurred. I could feel my wolf taking over, knowing that his mate was in trouble. He could tell something was wrong immediately.

Within two minutes, I was at the bottom of my driveway. From there, I crossed the road and jogged to my mate's front door, which was opening as I approached. An anxious Dawn stood behind it. Once I was inside, she grabbed my wrist wordlessly and dragged me up to her room, shutting the door behind us.

I glanced at her bed, where her sketchpad lay open. She saw my gaze and motioned me to look at the drawing, sniffing and looking away. Once I tilted my head to see the picture properly, my nostrils flared in anger. The colour in the drawing told me that it wasn't Dawn who had drawn this.

"Who drew this?" I demanded. She didn't answer. "Dawn, who?"

"...I--I did."

"No you didn't. You don't use colour."

"It wasn't me exactly— I was holding the pencil but it wasn't me drawing it. It was like..."

"Like what?"

"Like somebody was holding my hand and drawing it for me."

"Dawn, that's not possible."

"Seriously, Hayden? Do you think I'm lying to you? I'm telling you it happened, so it must be possible!"

"Explain."

She took a deep breath, "I was just doing homework when I started doodling on the page. But I wasn't trying to, it wasn't me drawing. I picked up my sketchpad and I just started sketching instantly, so obviously I tried to stop it and threw the picture away. But I didn't stop and next thing I know, I'm lying on my bed with my eyes shut and my hand drawing—" she held up the pad and shook it in the air, "—this, all on its own." She pinched the bridge of her nose in an expression of anger, but all sadness. I could tell the confusion and desperation for answers was upsetting her immensely.

"Come here," I beckoned. She hesitated, but let me embrace her all the same. My hand stroked her hair soothingly and I kissed the top of her head. "I'm sorry for not believing you, it just doesn't make sense."

"I know, that's why I called you. Why did I draw this, Hayden? Why did I write this?"

"I don't know, Dawn, I really don't know," I replied. Which was not entirely true. This drawing related the the Prophecy, with the coloured eyes depicting the good and evil sides of the battle, and the half moon at the top. The glowing werewolf hand and writing below it related to the small scroll tucked into the tooth of her necklace. I realised then that I needed to tell her everything. If I didn't, I would never forgive myself for putting her through this ordeal.

"Dawn, come back to mine."

She looked up at me, "Why?"

"I think I can...explain all of this." I had figured it out. Everything made sense, I just needed to tell her. And, surprisingly, she followed me back to my house without a word.

Dawn

When he shut the front door of his house behind him, I wanted to shake the answers out of him. I was desperate to know; I knew that he was keeping something from me from the moment we met.

"Come into the living room," he instructed. I did as I was told.

He sat down, and gestured for me to sit down opposite him. I was getting nervous. This was not the usual happy-go-lucky Hayden I was used to being around.

"There's something about my family that is different to others. Dylan's family, too."

"What do you mean?"

He sighed, "Okay, Dawn, if I show you something, do you promise not to go crazy?"

"That's a really weird question, you know."

"Please, Dawn, I'm serious."

"Fine, yes, I promise. What is it?" He didn't answer, just stood up and pushed the coffee table out of the way, leaving an expanse of open space in front of me. I raised my eyebrows in questioning.

"You might want to look away." I frowned as he started to unbutton his shirt.

"Hayden, what the hell are you doing?"

"Just look away, Dawn," he ordered just as he pulled down his underwear. I whipped my head to the side as fast as possible, wishing I could erase that sight from my head. Shit, he'd really lost his mind.

A crack sounded, followed quickly by a succession of more cracking and snapping and grinding. It made me cringe and scrape my teeth together; I didn't even realise that my eyes had squeezed shut.

Then everything fell quiet.

Something nudged my shoulder.

My eyes snapped open to the monster towering before me. When I was sitting down, the huge black wolf looked down at me. I clapped my hand over my mouth as I recognised the wolf as the one I had started seeing all those weeks ago. Staring into it's eyes, I tried to convince myself that it didn't possess the same green-flecked light brown eyes that belonged to Hayden. But I knew better. There was an enormous animal in the place where Hayden had just stood.

I was no idiot.

"Hayden?" I murmured. The wolf nuzzled it's snout into my neck, heavy hot breaths warming my ear.

I nodded to myself in conformation. It was Hayden. And for some reason, I wasn't freaking out. Maybe it was because I was honouring my promise to him about not going crazy, or maybe...just maybe...I wasn't surprised.

"It was you," I breathed.

I reached up and gingerly patted his furry neck, before scratching behind his ear and stroking down his muzzle. He kept eye contact with me and cocked his head to the side, as if questioning why I wasn't scared of him.

I shrugged. "I suppose crazier things have happened in this weird mind of mine," I said with a slight laugh. His ears bent forward and his eyes crinkled, showing me that he was listening. He positioned his head in front of mine and blew heavily through his nose into my face, making strands of my hair fly backwards.

I blinked a pushed his muzzle away, "Hey!" I could see his tail wagging in the air behind him. His huge paws stepped backwards and, as soon as I heard the first crack, I looked away so as to not see my best friend-now-turned-werewolf naked.

"I was expecting you to scream and cry," he said, so I looked around to see him standing where the wolf had just been, wearing only his jeans. My eyes trailed along his abs, drinking in his muscular figure.

My jaw slack, almost drooling over my best friend, I replied as best I could. "Uh, uhhh, um, well, I don't know, I guess I was just not, uh, that surprised," I managed to get out. He chuckled.

"My eyes are up here, you know."

I blushed, "Shut up. You're half naked and I'm a teenage girl. If you want me to talk to your face then you'll need to put a shirt on. I mean, where would you have looked if I was standing in front of you half naked, hmm?"

He tilted his head, relenting, "Fair enough. I would not be making eye contact, that's for sure."

His shirt and socks were threw on before he moved the coffee table back to it's original place and sat down in front of me.

"So you're a werewolf," I stated simply.

"Well, that's what I like to call myself, but the correct term is Wolf Shifter."

"Is that what Dylan is, too?"

"Um, no, actually, he's a Bear Shifter. There's a whole complicated explanation that I'll tell you eventually but for now, I'll just tell you the basics. There are only Wolf Shifters and Bear Shifters, nothing else— well, that we know of. My dad is a wolf but my mum isn't; she is his mate. Mates are the destined people you are supposed to be with, and when you find them your whole world is complete. It's like Yin and Yang, you need each other to be whole."

"Wow... So how do you know who your mate is?"

"Well us werewolves have wolf personalities inside our minds- they're like separate people who talk to us and guide us, and their physical form is when we shift into our wolves. It's like two entities sharing an physical being."

"Kinda like you're schizophrenic."

"Kinda, yeah. But that's also kind of insulting, Dawn," he laughed.

"Sorry."

"Anyway, so your wolf knows who you're mate is, and fate will decide when you meet them. Your wolf will tell you when you've found them, and after that you will always protect them, keep them safe and love them forever."

"That's...beautiful. Have you, you know, found her yet?"

"...Actually, yeah, I have."

"Is it..." I winced for some reason, "Caitlyn?"

His eyes almost pooped out of his skull, "No, no, it's not Caitlyn."

"Oh, well then who is it?"

He looked at his feet and gently gazed up at me, seeming shy.

"It's...um..."

Hayden frowned and fidgeted, bouncing his feet on the wooden floor.

"Damn it, it's you, Dawn."