Since We Are Apart

Chapter 2.2 The Kennel

“What do you mean the last? The pack still exists, apparently: there’s you, my father, and who knows how many werewolves in the area.”

“There are werewolves,” Denis nodded. “But there’s no pack. Everyone lives separately, following their own rules. No one dares to challenge for the alpha spot. Not here, not in Kserton.”

“What, werewolves are pathologically afraid of responsibility?”

“You’re talking about yourself too, don’t forget,” he smirked, and I hesitated realizing he was right. Accepting myself, even mentally, as part of Kserton’s fantastic underworld was scary. It seemed that if I started thinking of myself not as a human, but as a werewolf, the wolf would take over and erase the way back to my familiar, understandable life.

“I’ve never transformed. And maybe I never will.”

I saw Denis’ eyes widen, a symphony of genuine horror raging in them.

“You won’t? Just like that, you’ll refuse without even trying?”

I shrugged.

“What’s there to try? Running naked over snowy dunes? Not my kind of fun.”

Two figures in heavy-looking jackets approached Dad outside. The men were noticeably taller and broader than Dad, although it might have been the cut of their clothes. Seeing steam rising from one man’s breath in the cold, I realized he was speaking, but Denis’ voice inside the car drowned out the sounds from outside.

“Well, not exactly naked. Our brother’s full-form fur isn’t so bad, you know. There’s something special about how the world changes when you look through the eyes of the other, the one living inside us.”

“You see being a werewolf like that? Like someone else takes the wheel, and you’re just a powerless passenger who can’t influence much?”

I held my breath, expecting the worst. To hear what I feared most, not knowing how much truth my father had told me about werewolves. To my relief, Denis shook his head and looked down at his hands. A hint of a smile flickered on his lips, as if he was remembering something pleasant—something known only to him.

“No, it’s not like that. The essence kind of complements me. I feel it every time I transform. It doesn’t speak to me or appear before my eyes. But I kind of sense it, you know? It’s here,” he pressed his palm to his chest. “Part of me. My spirit closely intertwines with it every time I call on the power. It’s like being protected by someone ancient, wise. It warns me, like a sixth sense, when someone tries to deceive me. Always alert, always reacts before I can. My she-wolf is very strong.”

“It’s funny that you call her a she-wolf.”

Denis looked down and blinked slowly several times.

“But that’s how it is!” He pointed at himself. “I’m a guy.”

I snorted at his explanation. What a rule: if I’m a guy, my wolf must be a she-wolf. Until now, I hadn’t heard werewolves talk about their power as a living being you can communicate with and respect. Kostya never told me anything like that, and honestly, I never felt another presence inside. The idea that the werewolf inside might be an ethereal companion reminded me more of a mild form of split personality.

Denis frowned, watching my reaction.

“Wait, you seriously don’t know?”

“Don’t know what?”

He looked at me expectantly, as if waiting for me to suddenly shout “Gotcha!” and laugh.

“God, I’m not joking! Explain it properly.”

“Well, our beast side is kind of like a guardian spirit, a protector. He—or she, like mine—can show themselves differently depending on who was in your bloodline and what you inherited. Usually, the guardian is of the opposite gender. Some say it’s because werewolves were originally born of magic. When the first creatures were made, a witch created the beast spirit, separating from the peasant’s spirit the natural, wild part of his nature. The part that felt like the lord of the forest and could survive thanks to instincts and ancestral memory. The part originally inside the human, kept deep within until needed, to save with quick reactions instead of long thoughts. My father says our essence is kind of like a mother, who especially fights for her son, and you girls get fathers instead.”

“Thanks, I already have one overprotective father. I can do without a second nanny-spirit. Although, my essence probably agrees with me.”

“How do you figure?”

“Because I don’t feel any companion inside. And the sixth sense…” I bit my lip as soon as I realized what I was about to say. If I really had a smart and vigilant spirit inside me, it would have shattered Nick’s spells like a crow cracking a peanut shell. Instead, I walked right into the trap.

“And the sixth sense is definitely fast asleep, leaving me to my fate.”

“Again, feeling the spirit is not a rule but more of a tendency in my family. How things are with the Cherny family, your father knows better.”

“Apparently, not at all. Dad never told me about anything like that. Although maybe he’s just testing me.”

“Testing? Thinks you’re lying about transforming?”

“How do you lie about that? Probably he just hopes the treatment won’t work, and I’ll come to him as soon as I feel something new and can’t handle it. I have no one else to ask.”

“Wait,” Denis stopped me before I continued. “What treatment? Were you really treated for something at the hospital?”

“Well, I wasn’t just hanging out there for almost a month for nothing, you know. It was tough learning to see the world anew, to filter all the smells and tastes. Basically deciding whether I even want the life of a supernatural being or not. Anyway, I made my choice, and Dr. Smirnov said he could try to help me dull the symptoms a bit. So I took the risk.”

Denis looked at me with pity, like a small helpless child was sitting in front of him. Naive and defenseless. Still believing in a fairy tale with a happy ending whose pages had long since been burned.

“You trusted him even after everything he did to Nikita’s mother?”

“Oh, so the rumors from Halloween night have reached you too, huh?”

“Everyone talks about it. No one from our side would dare go to that hospital now, I’m telling you.”

“Even if his treatment works?”

Denis faltered, not knowing what to say. He weighed his own feelings, but the scales froze, refusing to suggest the right answer.

“Even if the doctor succeeds, I won’t be lining up with him.”

Denis and I had different contexts. He spoke so confidently about lycanthropy. He knew far more than I did, but only said what he wanted me to hear. The problem was, I didn’t want to listen. Talking to him felt like arguing with Kostya, who was convinced that what was happening was right.

It was as if fate itself knocked on my door, calling me to accept the family curse and give up — but I wasn’t ready to let go of the life I dreamed of. Ahead of me was graduation, and then college admission. I wasn’t going to become part of the supernatural world, if only because most of the people close to me were considered eternal enemies of werewolves. We would end up on opposite sides of the barricades, and just the thought that at some point I might have to fight Diana or Stas made my blood run cold.

I was afraid to taste the offered power and lose my true self. What if the spirit inside me was just waiting for the right moment? Waiting for me to show weakness and be unable to refuse the helping hand, just to do the right thing?

I stopped trusting myself, and that was the worst of all.

“Listen,” I broke the silence in the car, not wanting to drown any further in my own thoughts. “I never would have guessed you only recently found out about the power.”

“But I’ve really known for a long time, Asya,” Denis was surprised. “I transformed for the first time before I was even five years old.”

I glanced at him from head to toe a few times, not understanding how I could have been mistaken. We met in September for the first time in many years, and I barely recognized Denis. The guy with dirty hair and problematic skin was only a pale shadow of Drozdov, who now sat in the backseat. Despite his age, he already looked like a grown man. He only needed some rough stubble to appear on his chin and cheeks, and then girls at the college would definitely start noticing him, if they hadn’t already.

“Why did you even think I only found out recently?” Denis kept pressing.

“You’ve just changed so much lately,” I said, motioning to Drozdov’s entire appearance, meaning his looks. “I remember you with a totally different hairstyle and figure. Not to mention—you’ve grown so much, you’re now two heads taller than me!”

Denis rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“Growth spurt, Asya. Just a growth spurt. We age slower, we don’t wake up one day omnipotent and immortal. What about us? Even vampires have their limits, they just adapt better like any parasite. Look at yourself: as soon as your power wakes up, you’ll start jumping higher than your head and bending metal bars with your gaze.”

“We can really do that?” My jaw dropped. The last thing I needed was to unintentionally hurt someone with a piercing stare.

“Of course,” Denis said very seriously but soon couldn’t hold it. Drozdov leaned back in his seat and laughed. His laughter sounded genuine and clear, like he had just heard a good joke. But in reality, Denis was laughing at my ignorance of things that seemed everyday and simple to him. I turned away and crossed my arms in offense. The down jacket’s fluff was soothingly soft, and I wanted to dissolve into that feeling. To separate myself from Denis’s mockery, who didn’t understand how hard it was to piece together scattered knowledge about a world so new to me.

I stared ahead at the monotonous wall of the building. Father was nowhere in sight, nor were the men he had been talking to. Denis and I were alone in the car, and even if I got out, I didn’t know where I could go. There was only forest and snow around, except for the Karimovs’ house and the building in front of me. My gut and simple sense of tact told me it wasn’t worth going outside—at least not until Kostya called.

“Where did he go?” I muttered under my breath, but Denis heard.

“He probably went with the men to wait for the truck to unload. It should arrive soon. That’s why we gathered.”

“To unload what?”

Drozdov fell silent, and I wanted to twist his head off. Couldn’t he just answer a simple, straightforward question?

“Ahhhh,” Denis dragged the word like someone who had just solved a puzzle. “Now I get it. Everything falls into place!”

“Denis,” I said sternly, “I’m moving to the back seat right now and I’m going to give you a good talking-to. Spill it already.”

“I’m not hiding anything! I just couldn’t understand why Konstantin brought you today. You’re no help right now.”

“Well, thanks a lot. So a young girl can’t even hammer a nail or hand over a board, right?”

“Why are you getting worked up? That’s not what I meant. If you don’t believe me, I’ll give you a hammer for New Year’s—with an engraving. As a token of recognition, so to speak.”

“Very funny,” I said aloud and thought about what an i***t Denis was after all.

“It’s just that you haven’t fully come into your power yet, so you won’t be much help at the kennel. But now I get it! You really need to see everything with your own eyes before…”

A bright light flashed behind Denis, and he trailed off. I had to raise my hand to shield my eyes, which hadn’t expected anything like that in the dim car interior.

“There they are,” Drozdov said indifferently.

“Who are ‘they,’ Denis?”

“Those who refused the power.”