Chapter 4 Something Outside
1565 Words
Rosalie woke with a cramp in her neck and the distinct feeling that something was watching her.
For three confused seconds, she did not remember why she was sleeping on the floor.
Then she opened her eyes.
The wolf was awake.
Its head rested on its front paws, pale eyes fixed on her from less than four feet away.
Rosalie blinked.
“You know, staring at people while they sleep is generally considered rude.”
The wolf did not move.
Behind her, Tessa made a noise from the sofa that sounded somewhere between a groan and a complaint.
“What time is it?”
Rosalie reached for her phone.
“Six twenty.”
“No.”
“That is, unfortunately, how clocks work.”
“I reject it.”
Tessa pulled the blanket over her head.
Rosalie pushed herself upright and immediately regretted spending half the night on hardwood.
Everything hurt.
The cottage smelled faintly of antiseptic, damp towels, and wolf.
A lot of wolf.
She looked toward the bandage.
Still clean.
That should have reassured her.
Instead, Rosalie found herself thinking about the wound beneath it.
Three hours.
A wound that deep should not have begun closing in three hours.
Maybe wolves healed faster than dogs.
Much faster.
Ridiculously faster.
She would look it up later.
Preferably after coffee.
Rosalie stood carefully.
The wolf's head lifted.
“I’m making breakfast. You are not invited into the kitchen.”
One ear moved.
Rosalie stopped.
“No.”
Tessa's voice came muffled from beneath the blanket.
“What?”
“It did the thing again.”
“What thing?”
“The listening thing.”
Tessa lowered the blanket just enough to expose one eye.
“I told you.”
“You also said it was pretending to be injured so it could kill us.”
“I contain multitudes.”
Rosalie walked toward the kitchen.
Behind her came the quiet scrape of claws against the floor.
She turned.
The wolf had pushed itself upright.
Barely.
Its legs looked unsteady, but it was standing.
“You should not be doing that.”
It took one step.
Rosalie pointed toward the towels.
“Back.”
The wolf stared at her.
“Absolutely not.”
Another step.
“Do not make me argue with a wild animal before coffee.”
Tessa sat up.
“I would pay money to watch you lose.”
Rosalie looked at her.
“You're very supportive.”
“I came out in a storm with a tyre iron. My friendship credentials are secure.”
The wolf took another slow step.
Then another.
Rosalie gave up.
“Fine. Fall over dramatically if you want.”
It did not fall over.
Instead, it followed her into the kitchen.
Tessa stared after them.
“Oh, this is already a terrible precedent.”
…
By seven, Rosalie had coffee.
Tessa had coffee.
The wolf had water, a small amount of plain cooked chicken, and an ongoing argument with Rosalie about portion size.
“You have eaten.”
The wolf looked at the bowl.
Then at her.
“No.”
The stare continued.
“You’re injured, not starving.”
Tessa leaned against the counter.
“It definitely thinks you’re withholding food.”
“It can think whatever it likes.”
The wolf looked at Tessa.
Tessa immediately raised both hands.
“Don't involve me. She controls the chicken.”
Rosalie smiled despite herself.
The wolf's appetite seemed like a good sign.
So did the fact that it could stand.
The unsettling part was just how much better it appeared compared with a few hours earlier.
She had removed the dressing again after sunrise.
The wound had continued closing.
Not completely.
But enough that Tessa had gone silent for nearly a minute.
Rosalie had searched the internet.
Nothing she found explained it.
Search results about wolf healing rates had been entirely unhelpful.
Search results beginning with can wolves heal overnight had somehow led to an alarming number of forums she refused to take seriously.
So she stopped searching.
For now.
Tessa checked the time.
“I need clothes.”
“You have clothes here.”
“I need different clothes.”
“You left half your wardrobe in my spare room.”
“That is an exaggeration.”
“There are eleven pairs of shoes.”
“Shoes don't count.”
“Against what?”
Tessa ignored her and stood.
“I'll shower. Then I'm going to stay with you here.”
Rosalie frowned.
“You don't have to.”
“I know.”
“Tess.”
“You found a suspiciously fast-healing wolf with metal buried in its shoulder beside a protected forest. I’m not leaving you alone with it and then reading about you on the news.”
Rosalie looked at the wolf.
It had lowered itself beside the kitchen doorway.
“You’re making this sound much worse than it is.”
Tessa stared at her.
“Am I?”
Rosalie opened her mouth.
Closed it.
“Go shower.”
“Exactly.”
…
By late morning, the rain had eased to a dull drizzle.
Rosalie called Flour & Honey and asked one of the weekend staff to open without her.
She hated missing work.
She hated the idea of leaving the wolf more.
That realization was inconvenient.
Tessa returned from the spare room wearing jeans and one of Rosalie's sweaters.
“You know,” she said, “normal people would have taken it somewhere by now.”
“I called again.”
“And?”
“Wildlife rescue is backed up because of the storm. They said somebody can come this afternoon.”
Tessa looked toward the wolf.
It was asleep near the fireplace.
“Are you actually going to let them take it?”
Rosalie frowned.
“Of course.”
“Right.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You made a face.”
“I have a face.”
“You made a specific one.”
Tessa poured herself more coffee.
“I just think you've already decided they're not taking it anywhere if you don't like what they say.”
Rosalie folded her arms.
“That is not true.”
“Rosie.”
“It needs proper treatment.”
“Mm-hm.”
“And then it goes back to the forest.”
“Obviously.”
Rosalie looked toward the sleeping animal.
The wolf opened one eye.
Tessa followed her gaze.
“Very convincing.”
Rosalie threw a dish towel at her.
…
That evening, wildlife rescue still had not arrived.
Another emergency had delayed them.
Rosalie pretended this did not secretly relieve her.
Tessa noticed anyway.
They ordered Thai food.
By eight, the cottage felt strangely normal considering there was an enormous wild predator stretched across the rug.
Tessa sat cross-legged on the sofa with noodles balanced on her knee.
Rosalie occupied the other end.
The television played some ridiculous reality dating show neither of them would admit to enjoying.
The wolf lay near the fireplace.
Every so often, Rosalie looked at it.
Every so often, its eyes were already on her.
On television, a woman threw a drink into someone's face.
Tessa pointed with her fork.
“Reasonable.”
“She knew him for four days.”
“Four very intense days.”
“She threw a drink.”
“He lied about having a girlfriend.”
Rosalie looked at her.
“You once dated a man for three months after discovering he lied about his age.”
“That was different.”
“He said he was thirty.”
“He looked thirty.”
“He was twenty-four.”
Tessa's expression darkened.
“Exactly. Deception.”
Rosalie laughed.
The wolf's ears shifted.
Tessa noticed.
“Oh no.”
“What?”
“It knows too much.”
Rosalie laughed harder.
“It's a wolf.”
“It has heard things.”
“It cannot repeat them.”
“That's not the point.”
Tessa lowered her voice and glanced toward the rug.
“I discussed Nathan.”
“You discussed Nathan in front of half the town.”
“Not the beach incident.”
Rosalie nearly choked on her noodles.
The wolf's head lifted.
“Stop.”
“You brought it up.”
“I did not.”
Rosalie wiped tears from the corners of her eyes.
For the first time since last night, she felt almost relaxed.
Then the wolf stood.
Instantly.
No struggle.
No hesitation.
One moment it was lying near the fire.
The next, its entire body had gone rigid.
Rosalie stopped laughing.
The television continued playing behind them.
“Tess.”
“I see it.”
The wolf was staring toward the front door.
Its ears were forward.
Its head lowered.
A sound began deep in its chest.
Not the weak warning from the night before.
A real growl.
Low.
Controlled.
Rosalie set her food down.
“What is it?”
The wolf moved.
Straight toward her.
Then past her.
It positioned itself between the sofa and the front door.
Tessa slowly lowered her bowl.
“Rosie.”
Neither woman moved.
Rosalie listened.
Rain against the windows.
Television noise.
The refrigerator humming in the kitchen.
Nothing else.
Then, several seconds later, Rosalie heard it.
A soft scrape.
Outside.
Near the porch.
The wolf had heard it first.
Its growl deepened.
And someone knocked on the door.
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