Wolves

WILLOW

They were all staring at me, even Connor, whose eyes glowed sapphire in the moonlight.

He stood a few feet away, his massive black wolf unmistakable. And as I looked at him, eye to eye and shoulder to shoulder, the realization sank in.

I was huge, and in a way that felt impossible—bigger than the other wolves by a head, at least.

~What does this mean? Am I not a normal wolf? Am I a freak? A true monster? Did the doctors do something to me in that lab?~

Before fear could take over, Connor stepped forward and brushed against my side. His flank was warm against mine, a steadying presence in the storm of my mind.

Even though we couldn’t mind-link, somehow his message was clear: “I’m with you, and everything’s all right.” Then, he howled and bolted into the trees, swift as shadow.

Without thinking, I ran after him.

And, damn, the rush of it.

The world unfurled around me with heightened senses I’d only ever experienced through glass and sedation. It was no longer muffled by sterile air, concrete walls, and chemical fog.

My paws tore into the soft earth and moss. My muscles stretched and burned and rejoiced. The wind roared in my ears, cold and sharp. Every heartbeat was a drumbeat of freedom. It was visceral and wild and almost holy.

This—~this—~was what life was supposed to feel like. It was moonlight and breath and the power of my own body moving the way it was made to move.

Without steel tables and restraints. Without wolfsbane in my blood like a fire that never burned out. Without humans writing on clipboards while I howled.

For the first time, I was whole.

My wolf snarled joy into the open air, and I let her have it. She’d been caged so long, drugged and drowned and beaten into silence. But now? She ran, every stride rewriting the story they’d tried to erase.

But while the initial rush of freedom began to settle, something else crept in at the edges. The pure euphoria started to fracture, letting in awareness of everything I’d been too overwhelmed to notice.

Namely, the presence of so many other wolves.

Their energy and bodies crashed into mine, jostling and overlapping. Every brush of fur, flick of a tail, and sudden shift in direction felt like a threat until I reminded myself—and my wolf—it wasn’t.

We’d never had a pack, couldn’t mind-link, so we didn’t know the rhythm yet or understand the dance. We were an unbroken horse thrown into a cavalry charge. Powerful, fast, but completely out of sync and therefore dangerous to everything nearby.

But with her fully behind the wheel, I no longer cared. Because I felt no anger in her, no malice toward the other wolves. And the longer I ran, the more I forgot to be afraid.

The deeper I leaned into it—the movement, the breath, the wildness—the more the traumas of my past slipped away like a bad dream burned off by morning light.

I bounded through the trees, over moss-covered rocks, and down into hollows. Wolves darted past, some brushing against me, others veering wide. Letting instinct take over, I discovered my agility, my strength, and the give of the earth beneath my paws.

Connor ran beside me, never too close or too far. He kept pace, his eyes flicking toward me every few minutes.

Having never let my wolf out before, I felt faster than I should’ve been. I’d half expected to be near the rear of the pack, but I comfortably remained at its front.

In fact, every stride seemed to release something buried in my DNA, something ancient and wholly mine.

For a few glorious minutes, I lived every childhood fantasy I didn’t know I’d buried. I was free. I was fast. I was wild.

Nothing could cage me now, and nothing ever would again, I decided. My legs devoured the distance between trees, breaths, and thoughts. I chased the sounds of scurrying feet—here, there, this way, that way!

My world had narrowed to instinct and impulse—follow, chase, hunt. I’d stopped listening for anything but my own heartbeat, my own desperate need to run.

But then, I heard it.

Complete and utter silence so deafening I skidded to a halt, panting. My paws sank into damp earth. My chest heaved. My ears pinned back against my head as sudden anxiety washed over me.

I scanned the forest, detecting neither sound nor movement. But I was alone.

~Where is everyone? No—where am I? Oh, shit. I bet I ran off pack lands! That’s why no one followed me! And they couldn’t mind-link me to warn me! Fuck! How do I get back? Where even is back?~

The euphoria drained from my body in a snap. My ears twitched in every direction. The trees loomed taller than before, sentinels judging me. My wolf whined, sharp and confused.

~Shit, shit, shit! Aren’t packs extremely territorial? Isn’t that what everyone said? Fuck! If they catch me, they’ll think I’m a rogue the way Connor’s men did! No, no, no, I won’t get captured again!~

I spun in a frantic circle, my heart hammering. Every sense screamed at me at once, overreacting to smells, sounds, movements—everything. My insides twisted and spiraled with no way to stop. It was too much; I couldn’t make sense of any of it.

Suddenly, a howl split the air, coming from everywhere and nowhere. My hackles rose as branches snapped behind me. I spun toward the noise and crouched low. Leaves rustled about a hundred feet in front of me.

Moving quickly, something was coming straight at me.

My wolf twisted my fear into something primal, and her message was clear: Kill or be killed. If this was an enemy wolf determined to defend its pack—or a rogue—the math of survival was simple. Them or me.

As the wolf neared, my wolf’s intention crystallized: Attack first, ask questions later. I couldn’t have agreed more.

The dark shape stepped out of the brush, and I lunged at it, knocking it onto its side. Before it could get up, my eyes locked onto its jugular, and I went for its throat.

My jaws clamped fur, and my teeth met flesh, but the moment my fangs broke skin, the taste of its blood hit me like a freight train loaded with dynamite.

~It’s Connor!~

But it was too late. My jaw closed around his neck.