The Price of Wolves
1147 Words
Claire’s fingers twitched as she stared at the last transaction on her phone. The credits were gone. Every single one. Missing like the children. Missing like Ethan. Taken to somewhere that didn’t seem like it existed. By someone who didn’t have a name.
Holt couldn’t find the children. Holt couldn’t find the scammer. Holt couldn’t find the will to love her as he had started.
The scammer had disappeared as if they never existed. Claire’s gut churned with frustration, with something sharper underneath—humiliation.
She had been tricked. But she refused to be made a fool.
The moment she left Holt’s place, she started digging. The message board where she found the breeder was wiped clean. No trace of the post, no history of their exchange. The name the seller had given—Sable—felt like a lie, a ghost of a name with no ties to anything real. But Claire was stubborn, and Black Hollow had its own ways of leaving trails.
She turned to the streets. For a minute, she wished she had Werejoy with her. But there was nothing to be scared of. She had left it at home so it could rest.
Claire didn't feel any fear for her own safety. Unfortunately, unlike Ethan, she didn't feel the kidnappers took adults.
The market at night was always alive, humming with a different kind of energy. Candles flickered, lighting up faces that belonged to neither day nor night. Voices whispered in languages older than the town itself.
Claire moved through it like a shadow, scanning the vendors, the corners where deals were struck in hushed tones. She finally found an old woman selling carved bone trinkets, her one good eye gleaming with something sharp.
“I’m looking for a man named Sable,” Claire said.
The woman’s lips stretched into a grin, revealing teeth that weren’t entirely human. “No one finds Sable, child. But sometimes, if he still has use for you, he leaves you something to remember him by.”
Claire’s stomach twisted. “What does that mean?”
The woman reached into a wooden box and pulled out a small glass vial. The liquid inside was thick, dark, and pulsed as if it had its own heartbeat.
“He left this for you,” the woman said. “A gift.”
Claire didn’t reach for it. “Why?”
The woman’s grin widened. “Because he’s not done with you yet.”
A shudder ran through her. She turned away, unwilling to play along with whatever game this was. If she couldn’t track Sable, then she needed to focus on the next lead.
The Carters.
***
The house was dark when Claire arrived, but the front door was unlocked. The moment she stepped inside, she knew something was wrong.
The scent was the first thing she noticed. Not the warm cedar and musk from before, but something else. Something metallic.
She moved deeper into the house, past the entryway, past the untouched dinner table. The silence pressed against her ears. Then, she saw it.
The wolf sat in the center of the living room, still and rigid as a statue. But its mouth dripped blood.
Claire’s pulse slammed against her ribs.
“Olivia?” she called out.
No answer.
She edged closer. The wolf’s mismatched eyes met hers, but there was nothing behind them.
Nothing human.
Then, she saw Marcus.
He was kneeling near the fireplace, staring at nothing. His hands were streaked with red. His mouth opened and closed, soundless, like he was trying to remember how to speak.
“Marcus?” Claire stepped forward.
He turned to her, his face slack, pale. “She’s gone,” he whispered.
Claire’s breath hitched. “What?”
“She has gone to where Ethan is.”
Claire’s skin went cold. “What do you mean?”
Marcus didn’t answer. Instead, he just… smiled. And it wasn’t his smile. It was too wide, too wrong.
Claire staggered back. The wolf still hadn’t moved. The blood at its mouth gleamed under the dim light.
Then, Marcus whispered something.
“They said she was perfect. They said I wasn’t.”
Claire fled.
***
By the time she reached Madam Vespera’s office, her hands were shaking so hard she could barely knock. But she didn’t have to—Vespera already knew she was there.
The principal stood by the window, her back straight, her silver hair shining under the pale moonlight.
“You should have listened to me,” Vespera said before Claire could speak.
Claire clenched her jaw. “What happened to Olivia?”
Vespera finally turned, her gaze cold. “She made her choice.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one that matters.”
Claire slammed her hand against the desk. “Did you do this to her? To the Carters?”
Vespera studied her, then sighed. “Claire, you keep trying to fix what is beyond you. What happened to your wolf made make me take a drastic step. And about the scam, I sent your money to charity.”
Claire froze. “What?”
Vespera arched an eyebrow. “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out? That I wouldn’t know about your little experiment? You underestimate me, Claire.”
Claire’s stomach dropped. “What are you talking about?”
Vespera took a step closer. “You wanted to alter the wolf. You encouraged what shouldn’t be encouraged. It doesn’t have to be this way. We had a discussion, Claire.”
Claire’s mind reeled. She had done nothing—nothing except listening. Except try to understand. But maybe that was enough.
The wolves weren’t meant to be understood.
***
Outside, hidden in the shadows, Holt sat in his patrol car, listening.
He had tapped Vespera’s office months ago, expecting corruption, expecting secrets. But he had never expected this.
He had never wanted to believe in the things Claire was chasing. But now, hearing Vespera speak, hearing the way Claire’s voice shook, he knew one thing.
Something was deeply, deeply wrong in Black Hollow.
And it had everything to do with the wolves.
He exhaled, gripping the steering wheel. For the first time, he wasn’t sure Claire was wrong. And he wasn’t sure if she would survive this alone.
The car came to life by itself, just then. Along with a renewed love for Claire.
***
Claire left Vespera’s office with her mind in turmoil. The streets were empty, the air heavy with something she couldn’t name. Her footsteps echoed unnaturally.
Then, the sound of another step.
She turned sharply. No one.
Her breath quickened. Her pulse thundered. She moved faster, almost running now.
Then she heard it. A whisper, slithering in the air like silk against stone.
Claire.
She whipped around, heart hammering.
And from the shadows, a pair of glowing, inhuman eyes stared back.
- Writer
