The She-wolf Who Hated her beauty

Red moon

Elena

I hear footsteps heading toward the cupboard again. Heavy. Slow. Taunting.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Alexander's boots on the stone floor.

He is coming back. The other men have gone upstairs, but he stayed behind. He knew I was here the whole time. He was playing with me. Toying with me like a cat plays with a mouse before the kill.

No more hiding.

Something snaps inside me. A thread that has been holding me together for ten years finally breaks. The wolf that has been sleeping — waiting — starving — wakes up. She is angry. She is hungry. She is done running.

Shift, I tell myself. Shift now.

My wolf answers.

My bones begin to crack.

The pain is blinding. White hot. It rips through my body like fire. My spine twists with a sound like breaking sticks. My fingers shorten, curl, turn into claws. Fur sprouts from every pore — gray fur, silver-tipped, thick and warm. My jaw lengthens. My ears move to the top of my head. My teeth grow sharp and long.

I have not shifted in ten years. I forgot how much it hurts. I forgot how it feels to have your body tear itself apart and put itself back together in a different shape.

But I do not scream. I welcome the pain. It means I am becoming a predator again.

The cupboard becomes too small. My shoulders press against the wood. My back hits the top. I cannot breathe in here. I have to get out.

I push against the door. Once. The wood groans. Twice. A crack appears. Three times.

Then I burst out.

The cupboard door flies off its hinges. It spins through the air and hits the opposite wall with a crash that echoes through the kitchen. Splinters rain down on the stone floor.

I land on four paws. Gray fur. Silver tail. Teeth bared. A growl rumbles from deep in my chest — loud, fierce, nothing like the scared whimper I made earlier.

I am in my wolf form. And I have fully regained my strength at the right time.

Alexander stands in the doorway. His green eyes widen. His mouth falls open. He was expecting a frightened naked girl curled in a corner. He was expecting tears and begging and easy prey.

Not a snarling wolf with her hackles raised and her teeth showing.

I growl again. Louder this time. My lips peel back from my fangs. Saliva drips from my jaws.

Alexander recovers quickly. He is an alpha. He has fought before. He has killed before. He shifts faster than I can blink — one moment he is a man in black boots and leather pants, the next he is a massive gray wolf with emerald eyes.

He is bigger than me. Broader. His shoulders are twice the width of mine. His teeth are longer. His claws are thicker. His weight could crush me.

But I am faster. And I am more desperate.

He lunges. His body launches through the air, jaws aimed at my throat.

I dodge.

I drop low and roll to the side. His teeth snap shut inches from my neck. I feel the wind of his passing. He crashes into the shelves behind me. Jars of pickles and flour bags tumble down. Glass shatters. White powder explodes into the air.

I do not wait. I bolt for the kitchen door.

Behind me, I hear him shift back to human. His voice roars through the pantry: "GUARDS! IN HERE! NOW!"

Four men pour through the kitchen door. They are not shifted. They are in human form, wearing leather vests and heavy boots. They carry knives. Chains. A net.

I do not stop. I run toward the kitchen window. It is closed. The glass is thick. The frame is wooden.

I do not care.

I leap.

Glass shatters around me. A million pieces explode outward, catching the moonlight. Shards cut my shoulders, my back, my ears. I feel the sting. I feel the warm trickle of blood. But I do not slow down.

My paws find the ground outside. Snow. Cold. Moonlight — red moonlight now, strange and wrong.

I land and run.

Behind me, Alexander shifts again. His gray wolf crashes through the same window. Glass rains down on the snow. The four men follow, climbing through the broken frame, howling as they come.

I flee for my life.

My paws dig into the snow. My lungs burn. My legs pump faster than they have in years. The forest rises before me — dark trees, deep shadows, the promise of cover.

I dive into the trees.

But Alexander is fast. Too fast. He gains on me. I can hear his breath — heavy, hungry. I can hear his paws crunching the snow. I can hear his growls, low and constant, like thunder rolling across a distant hill.

He is ten feet behind me. Then eight. Then five.

I look behind me.

He is there. His green eyes glow in the dark like lanterns. His teeth are white and long. His fur is slick with blood — my blood from the window glass. It drips from his muzzle onto the snow.

The four men run behind him. They are slower, but they are spreading out. Surrounding me. One goes left. One goes right. Two stay behind Alexander.

They are herding me. Pushing me toward something.

The river. They are pushing me toward the alligator river.

I change direction. Hard left. My claws dig into the snow, throwing up a white cloud behind me. I dart between two trees.

Alexander follows. He is always there. Always behind me.

A tree root catches my front paw. I stumble. My body rolls. Snow fills my mouth, my nose, my eyes. I scramble back up, shaking the white from my fur.

But the stumble cost me time.

Alexander is three feet away. Then two. Then one.

He leaps.

His body blots out the red moon. His jaws open wide. His teeth are aimed at my throat. I see the drool hanging from his fangs. I smell the blood on his breath.

I close my eyes. I wait for his teeth to find my flesh.

Then —

CRACK.

Thunder? No. Not thunder. A tree branch. A massive limb, thick as a man's waist, breaks free from an ancient oak above us. It falls straight down. Straight onto Alexander.

He yelps. A high, shocked sound. The branch crashes across his back. He crumples into the snow. His body goes still.

The four men stop. They stare. One of them shouts, "Alpha!"

I do not wait. I run.

I run until my legs give out. I run until the red moon is just a blur above me. I run until I cannot hear the men anymore. Until I cannot hear anything but my own heart pounding in my ears.

I collapse behind a fallen log. My body shakes. My breath comes in ragged gasps.

I lift my head.

The forest is silent. Too silent.

I am alone.

I look behind me.

Alexander is gone. The men are gone. The river is gone. The mansion is gone.

I am in a strange forest. The trees are black. The moon is red. The snow is thin.

And I do not know where I am.

A twig snaps behind me. I spin around. No one is there. But the air is thick with a scent I do not recognize. Flowers. Earth. Smoke. And something else. Something watching. I am not alone in this strange land.