Midnight End

4

2 I didn’t return to the house immediately. I was too taken with the sights around me and my stunning change of circumstances to race after Morgan. As a wolf, my impeccable hearing had been undeniably helpful; however, I was limited to seeing life through the greyscale lens of a wolf’s eyes. While I couldn’t recall my life before I was turned, I had an innate sense of the rainbow of colors that existed just outside my reach. Walking through the rich forest and seeing the vibrant colors around me with the crisp clarity of my Fae eyes was like being reborn. The bite of brisk air against my bare skin and the rocky forest floor beneath the soft arches of my feet—neither were particularly comfortable, but both were welcome as they evidenced all I had regained. Hell, just having opposable thumbs was worth a celebration. Now that I could see color again, speak to those around me, and bathe instead of using my tongue—things were definitely looking up for me. I’d even have the full use of my powers, once I was able to recharge my magic. I would say the one thing I might miss about being a wolf was the ability to go unnoticed. I may not have literally been invisible, but as a dog, I might as well have been. It never ceased to amaze me what people would say and do in my presence. Morgan had been a perfect example. Lazily drifting her hand through my thick fur—which felt f*****g phenomenal—she had been lulled into unburdening one of her deepest secrets. All the others who had offered up information unwittingly through the years never discovered I was more than a simple dog. When Morgan dashed from my arms the next morning and flipped on the light, her revelation had been broadcasted in her expressive eyes. She knew instantly what she’d done and had been livid. Those vibrant blue eyes had sparked with fury, and her porcelain skin pinked with the rush of blood. Her short, platinum-blond hair waved in all directions as she stood stunned in her satin gown that exposed the full length of her shapely legs. Only something so engrossing as my own shock at my transformation had been enough to pull my attention from the mesmerizing beauty before me. And even then, just momentarily. When I spun her in my arms, lost in my excited revelation, the wolf that still resided inside me surged with possessiveness. Morgan was relatively short for a Seelie woman, and next to my large frame, she had been delicate in comparison. Her scent had been an intense aphrodisiac, and her womanly curves fit perfectly against my newly transformed body. Even more enticing to my wolfish side had been her spirited fight. Her pert nose and bow-shaped lips curved in a frown were an attempt to push me away, but all it did was trigger my need to stoke her fires. She was the angry bull, and I couldn’t help but wave my red flag before her. Her insults and death threats only made me want to bite her swollen bottom lip even more. I goaded and pushed, wanting to test her limits, see how much she could take. When she finally shot her parting blow and left the house, I couldn’t take my eyes from her curvy backside as it swayed with each furious step. While she had attacked me verbally with unfettered rage, she never once lifted a hand against me. Knowing who she was, I had no doubt she was a skilled fighter and could have done damage had she desired. I couldn’t remember my past to know whether I had possessed any fighting prowess, but even if I had, it had been so long since I had been a man, any skills I might have acquired would surely have been lost. Morgan’s exercise of restraint was a baffling curiosity to me. The woman was renowned for her selfish nature and ruthless pursuit of her desires. If I had information she didn’t want me to have, killing me would have been an easy solution. Perhaps it was as simple as Morgan seeing me as her best chance at escaping her confinement. All I could do was guess at her motivations. I got the feeling Morgan was an exceptionally complicated woman, one who could only be understood if she chose to allow such insight. When I returned to the house, I could see her inside, stretching from one position to another. Yoga. The great Morgan Le Fay, sorceress and supervillain, was doing yoga. She was the very definition of a mystery, and I found myself compelled to seek out the answers. She would challenge me in every way, but I had nothing better to do with my time. The only thing that called for my attention was my family—the people I considered family. A part of me wanted to race off to share with them the news of my transformation. However, another highly vocal part of me insisted I stay. Not just the part of me that wanted to keep my word to Merlin. This was a deeper, more primal part of me—a side that viewed life in absolutes and acted on basic instincts. He saw something he wanted and threatened to pulverize me if I even entertained the thought of leaving. I wasn’t sure where the inner barbarian had come from. It could very well be a part of every man, but since I didn’t know who I had been before, it was hard to interpret my urges and reactions. If I was drawn to swimming, did that mean I had been a swimmer? If I hated heights, did that mean I had fallen in my earlier life? If I was drawn to a willful woman, was that my preference or the wolf’s? The darkness of uncertainty cast an ugly shadow over everything else in my life. Long ago, I had chosen to turn my back on that darkness and focus on the light, but regaining my body had brought that uncertainty back to the forefront of my mind. Outwardly, I had perfected a laid-back approach to life, but inside, it was a struggle to ignore the uncertainty of my past. Shoving those thoughts aside, I entered the house and leaned against a wall as I watched Morgan’s lithe body bend and twist to a silent rhythm. She had clearly spent a good amount of time on Earth. Her interests, mannerisms, and wardrobe were heavily influenced by human culture. I wondered where she had been hiding out and what she had been doing during those years. After a few minutes, she stood and met my hooded eyes, slowly sashaying into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water. “You came back,” she said in a breathy voice between sips, eyes peering up at me through her lashes. Her cheeks were flushed from the exercise, and I imagined how the rest of her body would color with the proper stimulation. “There’s no place I’d rather be.” “That makes one of us.” “Come on—it’s not so bad.”