Eyes of the Wolf

42

“Dawn?”

I moaned, lifting my head and struggling against fifty-pound eyelids. Eagle’s scent crept into my nose, as well as that of Adam. There was slight pressure on my arm, like I was leaning on something, and when I turned I saw the source of the latter’s scent. The former’s was leaning over us, her brows forming a graceful curve, like how they tell kindergarteners to draw distant birds.

“Dawn, are you awake?”

“Sorta.” I leaned away from the person next to me, but only managed to flip over the other way and land in the dirt. Had I fallen asleep sitting up? My body sagged and my right shoulder touched something cold and metal with a sound like distant thunder to my sensitive ears. A garage door?

Adam’s breath was beginning to change as he started to wake up.

“How’d you sleep out here?” Eagle’s voice was confused, and I could understand that. Either you were human and slept inside, or you were a wolf and slept in the woods. Being human and sleeping against a wall wasn’t exactly run-of-the-mill.

Suddenly Adam’s pulse rate stuttered to a faster pace, and he stood quickly to his feet. How did people wake up so fast? I still didn’t quite have feeling in my fingers. Wait, no—they twitched.

“What time is it?” I asked Eagle.

“About five, I think,” she replied. “Not many are up right now.”

“What’re…what’re you doing up so early, Eagle?” Adam’s groggy voice queried.

I remembered why we were sleeping where we were. We had run home—I had started roughhousing with him after the midnight run, and so we had run again all the way back, then collapsed against the cool metal of the garage door and talked about skyglow and how the stars were brighter out here because of it. I’d never heard of such a thing, so Adam had explained how the lights of a town or city will blot out the stars, but out here they were much clearer. After that, I guess, was when we’d gone to sleep.

Well, at least you didn’t have to ask him where to crash…

“Oh, I’m always up pretty early,” Eagle said, a bit demur. Adam seemed to accept it—didn’t he hear the reluctance in her tone?

I finally managed to sit up, dust like powder chafing at the sensitive part of my upper arm as I dropped it to my side.

“Are you okay?” I inquired gently. She flinched at me, which made me want to growl. Something had scared my packmate.

Adam caught that for sure. He frowned, bemused. Then his gaze seemed to harden.

“Eagle—” he began consolingly, but she stepped back.

“I just like getting up early,” she said dismissively, her voice trembling. I stood, though my legs didn’t yet feel like supporting me. She shook out a nervous laugh. “I’m fine—don’t you worry.”

The order wasn’t lost on my, but I shoved the instinct to discipline a less-dominant wolf to the back of my head, focusing instead on the urge to protect her.

But she was walking off.

“She actually used to be pretty dominant,” Adam told me. At my expression, he shrugged. “Blaze says she was. Then she got mated and now she’s shaky as a rabbit.”

I growled. “Who’s her mate?”

He shook his head warningly at me. “Even if you were to go rebuke him, he’s stuck with her. Mates for life. Even if you killed him, she wouldn’t get another guy.”

My growl only dropped an octave. Then I shivered when the cold of the morning permeated my skin. No wonder I had been leaning so heavily on him—was that why I’d been so close to him when I woke up?

Did guys ever realize how warm they were, compared to girls? My dad’s a space heater, and I’d slept three to a bed with Chris and Brad in Santa Barbara once, with me in the middle; I’d rolled over multiple times that night, trying to distribute the heat he generated to every frozen bit of my tiny self. And I’d sat next to Drake at close quarters—he was crazy warm, too. And now Adam. All of them were warm to the touch. It’s not fair.

Adam looked uncomfortable for a second, then said, “It’s warmer inside, you know. You wanna get breakfast?”

:o3

Being in the Alpha’s house for reasons other than my vows of secrecy was a welcome change, especially when it was now to feed my empty belly. And Adam was right; it was warmer in here, as it would be cooler when the sun began beating down on everything.

Everything in my head stopped, though, when I recognized the parrot in the corner.

“Iago!” I exclaimed, trotting forward. The bird squawked and beat his wings against the cage.

“A-choo!” he deadpanned at a screech. I laughed, my eyes burning.

Dad’s bird. My dad’s parrot. Dad’s bird…

“We, uh, got him out of the house after we got you.” Adam stood awkwardly in the kitchen doorway.

“How did you know?” I breathed, too amazed to even feel flustered at the tears coming down my face.

“I didn’t. Niko told us that you would feel better if we saved that parrot for you. We couldn’t get any of your other animals, but he said that you’d want that one most.”

I opened the cage and gently extracted the bird. He bit my thumb, peeling away skin and drawing blood, but I didn’t care.

“We finally got him out of the garage. We had to clear a spot for him to live—the garage is pretty hot for a little bird. At least here he won’t turn into a chicken nugget.”

Iago beat at me with his wings, the only thing keeping him from flying off being my thumb over his toes. I was a bit sad to realize that he was afraid of me, now that I was a wolf. Hopefully that would change.

I returned him to his cage and wiped at my face with my other hand.

“Thank you,” I said, my voice breaking over the words. Adam’s feet shuffled a bit.

“I’ll make breakfast,” he stammered.

I stood aimlessly in the kitchen, reeling, as he rooted through the fridge. In the freezer there were half a million Otter-Pops and what looked like a Thanksgiving turkey. He pulled the bird out to check for more than popsicles.

“Adam, you’re not planning on eating that, are you? That’s for tonight.” My Alpha’s voice made my head snap up like a soldier called to attention. James glanced at me and grinned. “Hello, Dawn. There’s a Pack dinner tonight. Sort of a new moon tradition. Don’t forget to come.” He ruffled my hair, clearly in high spirits. I turned and watched as he practically skipped to the front door, my absent hackles smoothing after the casual demand.

“He’s always like that at the new moon,” his son told me. “He loves having his pack together all in one place. He says ‘If we all get together to eat as wolves on the full moon, we should all get together and eat as humans on the new moon.’” Then he tossed me a self-deprecating half-smile.

“Makes sense, I guess,” I tossed out, my voice chipper though my throat still burned from my loss of composure. He laughed and shook his head at me again.

“Not quite. Humans or not, they’re still sixty wolves all in the same place, with dinner all around them. It’s pretty intense.”

“Oh.” He started rummaging through the fridge again, the turkey back in its original place.

“How does some venison sound?” When I didn’t immediately answer he lifted his head over the fridge. “Deer meat.” Understanding, I nodded. I was actually a bit surprised when he pulled out a chunk wrapped in a big Ziploc bag, instead of the haunch I had been picturing.

“Rose hunts as a human in her spare time,” he explained, putting it in the microwave. “She says that she used to hunt as a human with a bow, but now that she’s Changed she’s been finding it interesting to take up pistol-hunting. She doesn’t pay as much attention to the seasons anymore, though.” A small lilt in the last sentence hinted at some disapproval.

“Are people allowed to hunt here?”

“Nope,” he responded. Definitely some disapproval there. “But she says that the meaning behind the law is different than the letter of the law, and that since she’s the only one hunting around here as a human.”

“But aren’t there poachers, even so?”

“Not for long.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, like all the wolves, she’s pretty territorial. She uses her wolf form to scare off hunters around here.”

“Wouldn’t that get her shot?”

“Amazingly, that’s only happened once. She got hit in the shoulder about a year ago by a hunter, and almost tore him to pieces for it.”

I reeled from that bit of information as he retrieved our breakfast. “What happened?”

“A couple of other wolves heard the snarling and came while she was still shredding the shotgun. They intervened before she could get to the hunter.”

“But they saw her, didn’t they? And if they’re hunters, wouldn’t they know that she wasn’t normal sized?”

“And where would they say they found her?” Adam raised an eyebrow at me. “Off the trails, with guns, and without having paid the admission. They weren’t gonna make an uproar.”

I mulled that over. “Have I met Rose?” I asked.

“Maybe. She’s probably the only wolf anywhere close to your coloring. She looks almost pink.”

Those words brought up a new concern to me. “What color of wolf am I, then? I’m not pink, right?”

He gave me an odd look that could instantly be translated to that of one seriously debating tweaking somebody’s nose a bit. Then he lost it and said, “You’re like a mixture of pinks, oranges, and white. It changes in the angle of your fur.”

I imagined a wolf, but with pink and orange and white stripes; I looked like a Rainbow Sherbet ice-cream sculpture.

“Are you serious?” I heard myself mumble, and Adam winced.

“Okay, I didn’t describe that well. It’s much cooler than how I’m describing it.”

“Can’t see how,” I grumbled.

“You have a ruff like a collie,” he went on. “That’s where your white is. You’re neck is white, almost like a lion’s mane.”

Okay, that was kinda cool. My nose tickled and my stomach gurgled, reminding me that there were more important things than my vanity. Like the deer that was getting cold.

Seeing that my attention had gotten sidetracked, Adam remembered the venison, too. We split it between us.

Once it had been reduced to nothing, we went out for a run.

:o3

I realize as we pick up a lope that I don’t really care what my wolf form looks like. All that matters is that I have it. That is enough for me.