The Werewolf Lawyer's Human Mate

Claire Dane's POV Dumped. Who dumps someone with a face like mine? I mean, I know I’m attractive. I have my mother’s good genes. She was cheerleader quality, and so was I. Long dark hair that didn’t need much work unless I wanted it styled, intentionally different. My body is fit. I am tall and could walk in heels perfectly. Yet my boyfriend of almost two years dumped me. And for my best friend, too. And at Christmas time. Apparently, I’m not Cruise's “ideal woman,” but surprise, my best friend Daphne suddenly is. Turns out, super-rich was his type the whole time, and money looks better on her than loyalty ever did on me. I mean, he used to even joke about how many boyfriends she had, and I was always quick to defend her. Whatever. I pull my winter jacket tighter around myself as I crouch in the snow and gather another handful of twigs. The woods around our rented cottage feel hollow, like a stage waiting for the next tragedy. My fingers throb with cold, but I keep going. If the fire dies, we die. That’s the kind of trip this has become. Dignity? Gone. Hope? Somewhere under the snow. Claire “Ugly…” Cruise’s voice echoes in my head… The cabin was paid for months ago for a group trip for five. Cruise and Daphne were supposed to be here too, but once my heart became roadkill, they bailed. My money is trapped in this stupid winter getaway, so leaving isn’t an option for me because I’m not super rich. Ferez and Amelia stayed, but they’re just as uncomfortable as I am. We used to be a group of friends, couples, and memories. Now it’s… fractured. And I volunteered to gather firewood just to escape the awkward silence. I drop another branch onto the growing pile at the base of some massive, ancient tree, my breath fogging in the air. Against my will, my mind drifts back to Cruise, whether he regrets anything, whether two years together weigh on him at all. I shake my head, as if the cold is freezing my thoughts as well as my body. How could my best friend do this to me? The tears come then, hot, humiliating, instantly turning to ice on my cheeks. At least no one is here to witness this pathetic meltdown. Time blurs, and the mountains darken. Shadows stretch, the temperature plummets, and the snowfalls shift into something vicious and alive. The world goes from bright and snow-covered white to sudden darkness, it seemed to me. Turning, I search for the path back, but the forest has changed its face. The shapes of the trees are wrong. The woods stretch out in unfamiliar directions, and dread slams into me. The snow picks up like a living thing, twisting through the air. I squint out into the white, unsure where the cabin ends, and the wilderness begins. Life feels fragile here, more fragile than I expected when I booked this trip. I’m lost. I zip my winter parka up tight, the hood brushing the back of my neck, and pull my beanie low over my ears. My thick sweater is layered over a long-sleeve top, and my jeans are stiff with cold. Gloves slip slightly on my hands as I wrap my scarf tighter, trying to block the icy wind. My boots sink into the snow, crunching under each step, and I shiver despite all the layers. I thought I was prepared for the cold, but the mountains are relentless, and I realized too late that my clothes were insufficient for this. A violent gust hits, stealing my breath, whipping snow into my eyes. I brace against the trunk, my fingers numb, my heart pounding too hard. The wind shrieks so loudly I almost miss it, but that’s a howl in the distance. I physically shake- more than I already am because it’s definitely a wolf sound. And we’d been told wolves did dwell here, but never in these parts of the mountain. That their area was miles and miles away- that we would be safe and could view them from cable cars if we wanted. And then, a howl. Not the wind. Not imagination. A wolf’s My entire body jolts. Be careful what you wish for- the famous words come to mind then. Yeah, right, as if anyone would ask to be surrounded by wolves. Another long, low, bone-deep… sound, and I whimper, covering my mouth when I have the thought that maybe he smelled me and was sniffing me out. Their hearing was sharp, right? Ice slithers down my spine, colder than the snow packing itself into my boots. No. No, no, no. Panicking, I try to shout. “Ferez!” Although my lips are numb and the word comes out cracked, I call again. “Amelia!” But the storm devours my voice, shredding it into nothing. They know I went out for wood what must have been hours ago, they would come looking… right? I mean, when I left it was daylight, and now it’s near-night… they would know something is up, right? I can tell it isn’t night even though around me is dark. But the wind answers me instead, tearing my voice away. The storm is swallowing everything- sound, shape, breath. I can barely feel my fingers as I grip the huge trunk of the tree, my knees trembling with fright. Another howl splits the air, closer this time, and I will my racing heart to slow out of fear that the creature might hear. It sounds hungry… I can’t see anything, just darkness shifting between the whirling snow. My mind tries to reason with me, tries to say it’s just the storm twisting sound around, but something primal curls in my gut. Silently, I curse at the man who rented us this place. Wolves live in forests. This is a forest. My breath hitches as a shadow breaks away from the storm- massive, low to the ground, moving with terrifying purpose. Coming straight for me. This is it. This is how I die. My legs give out, dropping me to my knees. I’m shaking so violently I can’t tell where the storm ends, and I begin. My eyelashes freeze together when I blink. I try to crawl, but the snow drags at my limbs, pulling me down like I’m sinking into ice. The shape grows larger- too large, and not because it was closer to me. Impossible. Wolves don’t get that big- my eyes bulge as I make out fur. Gray. I can’t breathe. I can’t think, and I have stupid thoughts. That maybe being eaten alive will hurt less than the cold slowly ripping me apart, coupled with this hurt in my heart. But no, I don’t want to die. I want to forgive my father before I do. I want to be a mother to somebody… to be loved by someone. I want to be a successful artist…Yet, I know it’s my end because a series of quick flashes surfaces through my mind as my breathing slows. Of my childhood, when my father and mother were in love with each other. Of them, my brother and I, having a movie night at home on the couch. Of my grandparents coming over. I think of the old lady next door who reminded me of the book I loved and one my brother hated. Mrs Havisham. She was scary but nice, even though she smelled weird, and I loved her cats. I think of the firefighters who came to her house when it burnt down, and later the manhunt for my brother, whose body was never found, and was suspected of having died in the house next door. I think of my mother, who screamed at my father that it was his fault hours later. Of myself when I was a teenager, and I understood my father had something to do with the woman next door. An affair, my mother had been screaming, though I did not understand until years later what that word meant. I think of Mr. Keith, the librarian. The cashier at my favorite takeout restaurant, who always had a friendly smile except for that one time it wobbled, and I never cared to ask if she was okay. And one lecturer, Miss Trudy, whose classes I loved. What I did not think of was Cruise. Nor did I think of my friends. I had the sad thought, however, that I am dying alone. A few feet away, a pair of blazing golden eyes lock onto mine- wild, and a low growl comes from the massive wolf when its face comes into view. Its long snout raised as the impossible creature viewed me. I exhale a tiny, broken sound, and then everything goes dark.