Cursed Wolf

Thorne’sinner wolf screamed in frustration and rage. He stormed out to his truck and slammed his fist against the steering wheel. He had destroyed the date. What had possessed him to tell her about the Snow Queen? It had all just tumbled out of his mouth unbidden, and now he was stuck with the results of his own lack of tact. He should have waited, told her about it after they’d gotten to know each other better.

He slammed the steering wheel again and let out a frustrated roar. He couldn’t sit in the parking lot a second longer. He pressed the ignition and pulled out of his parking spot.

He drove back across the bridge in a daze. He couldn’t go home, he couldn’t go back to the Doolittles’, he couldn’t go anywhere. He found himself driving up into the mountains through the winding narrow roads into the forest.

His inner wolf was screaming to come out. He patted his pocket where he kept a vial of potion. He had taken a dose just before the date and knew he should be fine for several more hours. Part of him wanted to allow the curse to take over, to pull him under and make him into the beast he’d been longer than he’d been a man.

He had no idea how to be the man that Heather needed. She was a mother with a little child. Thorne had been around the Doolittles’ teenage children, but they were shifters, and their understanding of the shifter world was far different than Heather’s. She was a human and a scientist; the most skeptical of all. How could fate have put them together? They seemed like a terrible match.

His temper was roiling like a raging sea in a storm. He parked his truck at a trailhead and burst out of the car. He knew that Heather was his. He wanted her more than anything he’d ever desired. He craved her like a drug. The anger that his need triggered inside him made him roar.

He ripped out of his clothes and sank to the ground in wolf form. He charged into the forest, needing to taste b***d on his l!ps. He could smell the scent of prey on the air. Taste it on his tongue. It had been too long since he’d hunted. It was the only thing that soothed his inner beast.

He picked up his pace, charging off the trail and into the trees. Into the deep, dense forest where humans feared to tread. This was his domain. He had been an animal for so long he barely knew what it meant to be a man. Perhaps this was the place where he could find true freedom. He would live forever as a wolf if he just let Heather go. She would grow older, find another, and she would die while he remained a cursed animal howling in the darkness.

Perhaps it was better for everyone. He hated this feeling of need. And the look of fear and doubt in her eyes made him howl with anger. He didn’t want to be that man. He didn’t want to be who she thought he was. Too dangerous to be taken home to her child.

Maybe he was. Maybe he owed it to all of them to stay away.

He picked up the scent of an Alaskan hare and he lowered his head, giving chase. The rabbit darted through the underbrush, making for its hole. Thorne charged, overtaking the small gray beast.

He lunged at the hare and snapped its neck. B***d poured over his tongue and down his throat. He ripped the skin from the meat and gorged on its flesh, eating every morsel of muscle, sinew and organs. He bathed in the b***d, smearing it on his face. His human consciousness was so deep behind the mind of the animal that he could not control his instinctive behavior.

Once the fierce wolf had eaten his fill, the mind of the man suddenly pushed its way into the animal’s consciousness, prompting him to return to his truck.

Thorne walked slowly, not wanting to leave the forest and the domain he understood. The new world that had arisen during his years of confinement made no sense to him. It made no sense to the man, and even less to the wolf. He understood the deep snow in winter, the taste of b***d from a kill, the arctic winds from the north and the flashing northern lights in the clear night sky.

They had awoken as if from a dream into this new world full of new ways and technology he barely understood. Everything was different, from the clothing to the food to the vehicles. The music was loud and discordant, women wore skimpy clothes, and the world had become full of panic and disharmony. Was this even a place he wanted to be? He didn’t know.

When he shifted back into his human form and pulled on his clothes, he knew that Heather was worth all this torment. He couldn’t help it even if he wanted to. His every thought, every action, every word for the rest of his life would always be to serve her. To give her exactly what she needed.

And if he truly believed she’d be better off without him, he would do that. He still didn’t know for sure if that was the case. He had to fight for her. He had to fight himself and his own instincts, his own rage and disappointment. He had to get it all under control so that she would accept him.

But what would he do if she didn’t? If he did all that work, made all those sacrifices, twisted himself inside out to be a better man and she still didn’t accept him? What then?

It was unbearable to think, unbearable to feel so out of control, so vulnerable to another person. He had no idea how he would react if he tried everything he could, and she still rejected him. He might go mad. He might tear down the entire town and set it ablaze.

He looked at himself in the rearview mirror. He knew he was capable of such violence. It was the violence of an angry, cursed wolf and a monster. She needed him to be tame. Tame for a human, let alone an animal like him. He had to tame himself to claim her, and there was no guarantee that she would let him even then.

He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles went white. What choice did he have? Run away like a coward with his tail between his legs? He would never do that. And if she still didn’t accept him, he would be a man of honor like his father and his alpha older brother Rex.

He would walk away. Without violence and anger and bloodshed. He would leave her in peace and protect her from himself. He would return to his ancestral land and try one more time to kill the Snow Queen. Even though he knew that any attempt to seek revenge against her would mean his death. She was the most powerful witch alive and more dangerous than any dragon.

When he turned on the car, his phone rang, and he saw the caller was Rex. He answered, his voice a hoarse grumble.

“Heather came by the shop,” Rex told him.

“I hoped she would,” he said, his voice clearing.

“She’s very skeptical, Thorne. You had better play your cards right, or you could lose her.”

“I know. It’s all I can think about. You don’t need to remind me.”

“She has a young child. Fate only knows why she was matched with you.”

“Thank you for your vote of confidence, brother.”

“You’re a good man, Thorne, even though you can be a thorn in my side.”

“Your humor hasn’t improved in seventy-five years,” Thorne growled through gritted teeth.

“Luna thinks I’m hilarious,” Rex said.

“She has to think you’re funny. She’s your mate.”

“And Heather is your mate. If you play your cards right, you will have your happily ever after. But you have to get that temper under control.”

“I know. I will tame myself.”

“Why does it sound like you think that’s an insult?”

“Because it is,” Thorne barked.

“You want pups of your own. Don’t pretend you don’t. We all do. We’ve been waiting for almost a century to find our mates. Now you’ve found yours. This is your chance to have the life you wanted before the curse. The life you’ve been waiting for all these years. It’s right in front of you. All you have to do is stop being an a*****e.”

“F**k you, Rex,” Thorne said, clicking off the phone.

He tossed it on the floor of the passenger seat and pulled out of the parking lot. He didn’t need his brother to tell him what he already knew. And he certainly didn’t need to be called an a*****e.

Thorne had a temper, yes, but he hadn’t always been that way. He’d liked hunting and fishing and driving into the village for beer, but the years as an animal had changed him. They had twisted his desires and his mind until all he saw was b***d and anger and death.

Now the fates had seen fit to force him into a ready-made domestic life with a skeptical, high-achieving modern woman and her tiny child. It was a recipe for disaster. He was not fit for such things, and she could never accept him as he was. Nothing in her would ever understand or forgive any indiscretion. And he had no idea how to calm the inner violence that raged in his heart.

When he made it back to his apartment, he swung open the door of his fridge and pulled out a six-pack of beer. He sat down on the couch and tuned into the sports channel on his newly connected cable. They were playing hockey, and he let out a long sigh of relaxation as he watched the two teams get into a monstrous pileup of fists and elbows and rage. He sipped his beer and chuckled. Maybe he should take up hockey.