The Red Wolf

More than Human

Stella burst into the room without knocking, her energy like a whirlwind. “Maya!” she gasped, rushing toward the bed and throwing her arms around me where I still sat beside Ronan. “We were so worried!”

I blinked, stunned, as her arms tightened around me. Her hair smelled like wildflowers and campfire smoke—familiar and grounding. I hugged her back, if only half-heartedly, still emotionally wrung out.

“I’m okay,” I murmured.

“I mean, we figured, but you weren’t answering your phone and then the storm—Bailey wanted to tear into the trees and find you himself, but your grandma said Damien and a few others were out there.”

She pulled away just enough to look me in the eyes. Her expression was bright—but just a little too carefully composed, like she was avoiding something.

Bailey trailed in behind her, more reserved. His eyes scanned the room quickly, pausing on me before shifting to Ronan. I could feel the tension stiffen in his frame even before he spoke.

“You alright?” he asked, voice low and guarded.

“I think so.” I glanced at Ronan beside me. His presence was warm and solid, and for a moment, I felt steadier just knowing he was still there.

Bailey nodded slowly. “Good.”

He said it like he meant it, but there was something in his voice—tight, unreadable. I caught the flicker of a look he shot Ronan and wondered if I imagined the undercurrent.

Ronan stood up, giving me a little space. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to.

“I’m just glad you’re back,” Stella said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “And that nothing—well. That everything’s okay now.”

Her words trailed off in a way that made my skin prickle. Like there was something she wanted to say, but wouldn’t. Or couldn’t.

I looked between them, heart still rattled from the truth I’d been given downstairs. “So what now?” I asked quietly.

Stella looked at Bailey, then back at me with a careful smile. “Now we chill. You’ve had a day.”

The way she avoided the real question made it all too clear—they knew. Of course they knew. But for whatever reason, they were pretending they didn’t. It was… oddly comforting.

“Yeah,” I said, voice thin. “A day.”

Bailey lingered near the door, arms crossed. “Well, if you need anything, we’re around.”

Ronan gave him a look I couldn’t decipher, and Bailey held it for a moment before muttering, “I’ll be in the livingroom,” and disappearing out the door.

Stella gave me a small smile. “I’ll get some tea going. For your nerves.” She squeezed my hand and followed Bailey out.

When it was quiet again, I let out a shaky breath and leaned back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

“I feel like I’m losing my mind,” I said.

“You’re not,” Ronan said simply.

“Then why does it feel like everything I knew was a lie?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stepped closer and sat beside me again, his hand resting near mine on the comforter. Not touching. Just near.

“Because sometimes the truth isn’t something you can fully understand. People have their reasons for keeping things to themselves, and sometimes, it’s for the best.”

I blinked at him. “That’s… aggravating.”

“Yeah.” He smirked faintly. “It usually is.”

I rolled onto my side, curling into the blanket like I could shield myself from the sheer weight of it all. “My grandma. Damien. Stella and Bailey know. And I feel like the i***t in the room who can’t catch up.”

“You’re not an idiot.”

“Then why didn’t anyone tell me sooner?” I asked, voice cracking on the last word.

His eyes softened. “Aside from it not being something people say casually, your grandmother was trying to protect you. And for what it’s worth… I’m sorry you had to find out the way you did.”

I was quiet for a long moment. “So you’re a wolf? Damien? Everyone? What about my grandma? Why do Stella and Bailey know but not me? Why me?” My tone became increasingly frustrated.

Ronan didn’t move, didn’t even shift. “As much as I’d like to give you those comforting answers, I don’t feel like it’s my place to say.”

A dry laugh escaped me. “Great. So even you know why I wasn’t in the loop.”

His face hardened slightly. “You’re handling this better than most would.”

“You think so?”

He nodded.

My chest tightened. “If I asked you to show me again… that it’s all real… would you?”

Ronan studied me carefully. “You sure you want that?”

I wasn’t. But I also knew I needed to wrap my head around it. So I nodded.

He stood and backed toward the middle of the room. “I trust you won’t scream,” he quipped gently, though the slight lift in his brow told me he didn’t actually expect me to.

Instead of shifting right away, he turned slightly and reached for the hem of his shirt, tugging it over his head in one smooth motion. My breath caught. I hadn’t expected that.

His back was to me at first, but then he moved to fold the shirt neatly and turned just enough that I got a glimpse—broad shoulders, strong arms, and a chest sculpted like he’d been carved from stone. His skin was smooth in places, scarred in others—faint lines crisscrossing one side of his ribs, a pale mark along his collarbone. It was like looking at something I shouldn’t see but couldn’t look away from.

Then he bent slightly to step out of his sweatpants, folding them too and placing them beside the shirt. Now he stood in just his boxers, his eyes flicking to mine—checking, maybe, for discomfort. I immediately looked away, heat blooming in my face.

“You okay?” he asked gently.

“I—uh—yeah,” I mumbled, staring hard at the floorboards. My heart was suddenly hammering in a way that had nothing to do with fear.

He gave a small, almost apologetic smile—like he knew exactly what kind of mess he was making of my thoughts—and then turned his back to me again. One hand reached down, slipping the last piece of clothing off, quick and efficient.

Before I could even process the moment, his body began to shift.

The air shimmered like heat on pavement. His spine arched, muscles stretching and reshaping beneath his skin. Bones cracked and flowed, and thick silver-gray fur sprouted across his frame. One moment he was a man—the next, a massive wolf stood in his place.

Towering. Powerful. Familiar.

His fur rippled with each breath, streaked with charcoal down the spine. Those same warm, earthy eyes watched me carefully—not threatening, not even challenging. Just waiting.

I stumbled back a step and sank onto the edge of the bed, pulse racing.

“Oh my god,” I breathed.

The wolf took a slow step forward, each paw silent against the floor. His ears twitched at the sound of my voice, and his head tilted slightly.

“Ronan?”

He blinked, then sat, regal and still, as if giving me space to process. And I needed it. Seeing him like this—the transformation, the truth—it was so much. Too much. And yet… somehow not enough.

After a long moment, he turned and padded back toward where he’d left his clothes.

The air rippled again.

The wolf blurred and collapsed in on itself, shrinking and twisting—until Ronan knelt where the wolf had been, crouched low and facing away, still naked. He reached quickly for his folded clothes, tugging on his sweatpants and pulling his shirt over his head with practiced ease. Only then did he turn back toward me, now fully clothed again, his expression careful.

I stared at him, wide-eyed. “That... that just happened.”

“It did.”

“You’re a wolf.”

“Technically, I’m both.” His lips tugged into a slight grin, and his eyebrows furrowed, clearly he thought what I said was amusing.

My legs felt weak. I collapsed back on the bed. “I don’t even know what to do with this information.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Ronan said gently, sitting beside me again.

And for a long time, we just sat there.

Later, Stella reappeared in the doorway with two mugs of tea, Bailey in tow. Her smile was subdued now, less bubbly, like she sensed how fragile everything felt. She handed me a mug and leaned against the doorframe.

Bailey hovered just behind her, silent but clearly watching me carefully.

No one said anything. And that silence spoke volumes.

For now, I was still me.

But everything else?

Everything else had changed.