Pack: The Wolf Within

Chapter Four: Triggers

Rebel

"s**t. s**t. Shit." This was f****d up. Seriously. I wondered for a moment if I might be dreaming. That would explain everything. A f****d up crazy ass dream. I stumbled back into my room and slammed the door closed.

Thunder rumbled in the distance but I gave it no notice. A little thunder paled in comparison to a shape-shifting boy who was saying that I was just like him. I could hear Scout stirring in his room. The image of his naked body sent shudders through me. "You need to get laid." I told myself.

"Rebelllllllllllll! Your phone!" Elizabeth yelled from the first floor. She had clearly become very familiar with me, to her mother's, our mother's disdain.

"Elizabeth, for God's sake, use your inside voice!" I think it was lost on her that she was screaming just as loudly as Elizabeth had. "And let's go, I don't want to be out all day."

I looked around my room. I could have sworn I brought it up with me. I ran down the stairs, taking them two and three at a time. My socks slid on the landing at the base of the stairs and I scrambled to keep from falling on my ass.

Elizabeth stood, smiling, with the phone held out to me. "They're gone. It was some lady. Tish, Fish, something like that. Kept asking if you were alright."

"Trish?"

"Maybe. I couldn't tell. Her voice was really weird. Take it, I gotta go."

I took my phone from her outstretched hand and watched as Elizabeth followed her mother out the front door. I check my caller ID. I had Trish in my phone as "T" and when I saw that come up on the ID, I quickly tapped to return the call.

Her voice was frantic. "Why haven't you called me? What's going on? What's wrong?"

Trish has always had a sixth sense when it came to me. She always knew when I was hungry or angry or hurt. Always showed up at my door bearing a snack or a shoulder to cry on. It was uncanny. So I wasn't too surprised to hear her questions. I imagine it was driving her crazy that she couldn't be here right now.

I looked up. Scout stared down at me from the third floor railing. I took a tentative step towards the stairs but Trish's voice brought me back to my senses.

"We're coming out to see you." The words flowed quickly, urgently.

"What? I just got here."

"I know. But I needed to talk to you. There's something I have to tell you. Something I should have told you before you left. I thought I had time. You were only going to be gone for the summer, but now, I think. I think I have to tell you now. So we're coming out."

"We?"

Yes. Dalton's coming too."

Images of Dalton and I filled my imagination. The sensation of his touch, his taste, his scent, all of it seemed exponentially stronger now than it did at the time.

I heard a growl echo down the stairs. I looked up. I couldn't see his expression clearly, his bangs shadowing his eyes, but I felt more than saw something. I heard whispering in the background over the phone. I looked up again. I saw Scout's hand sliding along the railing as he descended the stairs. Then a shirt fluttered down, his shirt. The growl I heard earlier paled in comparison to the rumbling that reverberated from the walls now. I felt it in my chest, in the soles of my feet.

"Uhhhh, Trish. I think I need to go. I'll..."

"No. Rebel. Talk to me. Tell me what's happening. Dalton said..."

The phone slipped from my hand. I thought I heard it hit the floor, and in my mind's eye I could see it slipping from my grasp, slowly falling to the floor, hitting on it's edge, the glass cracking at the corner and then bouncing and hitting again before coming to a stop at my feet.

I have to imagine it, because my eyes were fixed on Scout. He stood on the second floor landing looking down at me. He had transformed as he descended, but instead of a black wolf, he stood tall on hind legs, the luminous glow of his eyes set back behind a wolfish snout that was not quite as long but certainly as ferocious as a wolf's with canines protruding from his maw. His arms were long and under a mat of black grizzled fur, I could discern a thick sinewy musculature. His hands, or paws, ended in long curved claws good for gripping the earth as he ran or the ripping of flesh. I took a tentative step backwards and he sprang from the landing and alighted almost catlike on the marble floor in front of me.

I could hear Trish's voice. She spoke frantically. And I wondered if she knew what stood before me.

"Mine." I think he spoke, or I imagined it. Certainly the word echoed inside my head, whether it was spoken aloud or not.

Dalton's voice replaced Trish's. He spoke urgently but I couldn't make out anything he said, just the tone. I did hear the word, run, before I heard the telltale sounds of crushed glass and metal. I looked down, but didn't see my phone, just two extremely large clawed feet.

Somewhere I heard the classic ringing of a house phone. It had to be Trish: she probably had every conceivable number there was to contact me and while phones don't ring with any urgency, I could imagine her pacing on her end of the call, wringing her hands and yelling at Dalton. Whatever notion I might have made to persuade her not to come out was neatly crush, much like my phone.

I looked in the direction of the ringing phone but felt a sudden hot breath on my neck and face. Turning back, that jutting wolf's jaw was inches from my face. Its growl was guttural, a subtle rumbling, like an engine idling.

The idea of running seemed ludicrous, but my feet scrambled under me nonetheless. My socks slipped on the floor and before I knew it, I was pinned to the ground, my feet still scrambling for purchase on the slippery surface. My effort proved fruitless. Scout had transformed again, once more into a giant wolf, his forepaws, pinning my shoulders. His head hung low and I felt his teeth on my neck. I clinched my eyes closed and held my breath, certain my death was moments away.

The thunderous howl that followed scared the s**t out of me; almost literally. As it was, I think I wet myself. Then I felt the weight on top of me shift. When I opened my eyes, Scout; thin, waifish, and perfectly naked Scout, was sprawled atop me. He had the most appealing embarrassed blush as he clambered off of me; covering himself first with his hands and then grabbing up his shirt off the floor. I couldn't help but admire how beautiful he was and marvel at the difference. Had I not been very nearly mauled to death I might have made a snarky remark.

My mouth worked, forming the words, but I had no breath to speak. I scurried back, like a crab, to the farthest corner, my eyes not leaving him.

"Uhm...that was...what the f**k? You want to tell me what that...that other thing was?"

Scout reached back and scratched his head, ducking nervously. "It's hard to explain."

"Hard to explain. Well considering you nearly ripped my throat out, I think a little explanation would be nice."

"I wasn't going to rip your throat out." His blush was back, his ears going red. "It's a pack thing. You know, like alpha dogs."

"There are more of you?"

Scout ducked his head. "No. Yes. I mean there are more of us, but I don't have a pack."

I was staring at him. The revelations were baffling.

"There's a pecking order in packs. The pack leader, or alpha dominates the pack. Since my...since I don't have a pack, I'm my own alpha. And every dog...everyone is potential pack."

"So you were, what exactly? Being an alpha dog?" I rubbed absently at my neck.

"I don't know. I don't think so. It's not... Something triggered it." Scout slumped in the chair at the base of the stairs. "Sometimes I know when it's going to happen. But sometimes, it just happens." Scout shrugged. "A full moon naturally, but..."

"Wait, What? A full moon?" I couldn't help but laugh. That would mean... "You're a werewolf?" I was dubious, to say the least, though why, I don't know, having seen him transform, both into a wolf and then that creature, but still the idea seemed ludicrous. Werewolves were myth, fiction.

Images of MTV's Teen Wolf came to mind, the two Tyler's with furry sideburns, large foreheads and the bridge of their noses more prominent, but certainly their Hollywood transformations were nothing compared to what I saw of Scout. He looked nothing like Teen Wolf, he was more monster than furry s*x symbol for the teen set. The only thing I recognized of Scout in that creature were his eyes.

I looked out the window, more for distraction than anything else. "Uhm, there's no full moon. So what gives?"

Scout shrugged. He looked so vulnerable sitting there, covering himself. "I saw something...something from you; a thought, a memory flash. I don't know, but I saw it."

It was my turn to blush. "You can read my thoughts?"

"No, not all of them. They'd have to be really strong for me to see them or hear you." He smirked momentarily. "That one was really strong."

"So what made you turn back?"

"You did." He said it flatly, like it was the most natural explanation.

"Huh?"

"When you howled."

I balked at the suggestion. "I...I didn't howl. It was you. I mean, I pissed myself."

His smile was back. He shook his head. "Not exactly."

I gestured at the wet spot on my crotch. "Yeah, I did."

"You were trying to mark your territory."

"What?" I laughed incredulous.

"Animals mark their territory. When they're agitated. When they encounter other animals. It's instinct. I told you. You're like me. We, you and I, are versipelles."

"Versa what?"

"Versipelles. Turnskins. Shapeshifters." Scout rolled his eyes. "Werewolves. The oldest of the versipelles could transform into any animal. But the younger one, like you and me, we are wolves."

"How? I mean, don't you have to be bitten by a werewolf?" I looked down at my hands, imagining them clawed furry paws. "I don't even like dogs." I whined.

I heard a rumbling growl from Scout in response, his voice guttural. "We are not a disease that is spread. You were born with it, just like your blue eyes and your ability to curl your tongue. And we are not dogs."

I suddenly found myself curling my tongue unconsciously. I shook my head. "I don't understand. I was fine until I got here. Then you... and it feels like I'm going crazy." I gaped at him. "Oh my god, you did this to me!"

"No. Nobody did anything to you. And..." Scout looked up quickly, his eyes filled with wonder. "We are pack. I think that's why it's happening. I'm your trigger."

"Wait, what? You mean I'm gonna turn into one of those...those...things?"

Scout didn't respond, just looked at me.

"When?"

"I don't know." He raised his head as if catching a scent, I watched his nostrils flaring. I heard his quiet rumbling growl. Then he looked back at me. "Your first true turn will be with a full moon. Usually, that's when it happens." Scout was quiet for a moment, staring off blankly, as if remembering. "That's when you'll be like that." His voice was monotone and distant. "It's gonna hurt." He cringed as if he recalling the memory of his first turn. "You'll be all animal. Scared. In pain. Even prepared, I didn't know what's happening."

He rose and started up the stairs. As terrified as I was in that moment, the image of his perfect little butt consumed my attention for a moment. He disappeared around the rail on the second floor landing. His voice echoed down to me. "Don't worry. I'll be there with you."

"Wait." I climbed back to my feet and raced up the stairs. "I don't understand." I turned at the landing and Scout had stopped, waiting for me.

I tried to look away, to avert my gaze, but all I saw was Scout, completely naked. He gripped his shirt in a trembling fist as if fighting the instinct to cover himself. He took two steps down, standing in front of me. "We are pack."

I couldn't help it, reaching out and touching him, my fingertips glancing off his thigh, tracing the curve of his hip. Heat radiated off of him. A growl escaped me.

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