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I walk to the cliff overlooking the river and I remember the day my mother died up there. I remember Richard chasing her, tackling her. He was going to mate her even though she didn’t want it, but she hit her head on the railroad tracks and died. Richard said it was an accident, but it never would have happened if he had just left her alone. Since that day I’ve stayed here. Making this place my home. I don’t leave unless my Alpha commands it, and now I have two Alphas.
“Oh come on, do you have zero sense of adventure?” a female voice asks.
I watch in growing irritation as I see a woman dragging another woman onto the tracks. In the dark I can only see that she’s tall and willowy with long dreadlocks and flowing peasant style clothes. The woman she’s dragging is much different, she’s short and a bit thicker with a cloud of black curly hair on top of her head.
“It’s not that I have no sense of adventure, Astra, it’s that I have a healthy aversion to doing things that could get me killed!” The other woman says, her Nigerian accent heavy and filled with apprehension.
“You worry too much, my friend! This is the perfect spot to get a picture of the gathering and the moon! Come on!” Astra, which is a very weird and annoying name, says as she releases her friend's hand and walks across the bridge.
The moon lights her from behind, and for a moment I’m transfixed. She spins, foolishly, on the bridge, and her skirts billow out around her, showing strong and slender legs.
“Astra! I am not going to follow you!” the other woman, the smarter of the two, folds her arms and turns her back on her friend.
Astra only laughs, picking up her camera from the strap around her neck as she gets to the middle of the bridge and begins to snap pictures of the camp on the other side. She isn’t wrong, the moon is right over the camp, the water shining with its light, reflecting back up at her. After she takes a few shots she turns and smiles at her friend and takes her camera strap off her neck.
The moon shines on her face and I feel as if I’ve been struck by lightning. She looks like a fairy, her small, pointed nose and angled plains of her face… I half expected her ears to be pointy. As she laughs at her friend, she tucks her hair behind her ear and my jaw drops. They are pointy. She is a fairy, an elf, a magical being…
I sit on the cliff edge and watch her unabashedly as she turns and sees the fire in my camp. Her face screws up as she thinks, and she raises her camera to her face and takes a picture. Her shoulders go stiff in surprise, and she zooms in…on me… She snaps another picture and I growl, getting up to leave, but she lowers her camera and waves at me.
I’m frozen in place, staring at her as she stares at me, when suddenly she screams. The boards give way beneath her. She’s falling!
I lunge towards the cliff, but just like with Cricket, there’s no way I can get there in time. Astra is clinging to the edge of the bridge, screaming for help, and her friend is running as fast as she can to get to her.
Except she isn’t going to make it.
As Astra falls, I jump off the cliff and dive head-first into the water. We hit the glassy surface at the same time and all I can hear is her friend screaming and the camp down the way alerted to the alarm in her voice. Astra doesn’t surface. I don’t see her at all. I plunge in the dark waters, looking for her, but I see nothing. In a last-ditch effort I shift in the water, using my nose to find her, and finally her scent breaks the surface and she gasps.
I’m swimming towards her like a torpedo, head partially submerged, and she's turning in the water screaming for help as the rapids pull her savagely away from her camp. Her eyes find me, green and full of terror, and she screams. I don’t blame her, if I saw a white wolf swimming towards me as I was struggling for my life, I’d scream too. But she’s swimming away from me, lengthening the distance in her panic. I’m momentarily impressed that she can battle the waters at all, but when I finally catch up to her, she kicks me hard in the face.
“Bad dog!” she sputters, choking on water, and I growl and lunge at her.
She screams, covering her face with her arms, and my teeth sink into her flesh without me meaning to. She’s flailing, screaming, battering me with her free arm as she thrashes for her life. I ignore her, ignore her blows and her curses, and duck under her arm so her stomach lands on my back. When her free arm wraps around my neck I let go of her arms and she clings to me like a leech.
For a minute she still fights, trying to choke me, but she quickly realizes I’m not attacking. I’m rescuing. I feel her deflate on my back as she realizes I was saving her the whole time, and suddenly her anger and physical aggression dissolve into panicked tears as she hugs me around the neck.
“Oh you’re a good dog, you’re such a good dog. I’m so sorry I hit you! Will you forgive me, puppy? I’ll bring you snacks! I’ll scratch your ears every day, and don't worry about the bite. It’s a badge of honor, a painful one, but I’ll get it tattooed when it heals. To commemorate the day I was saved by a lunar white wolf, right before the blue moon…this is magical!”
She’s insane. I’ve saved an insane person. I grunt as I carry her ashore, and puff with pride when she sits on my back and realizes just how big of a ‘puppy’ I really am. Her ankles are at least two feet off the ground, and as she slides off my back and realizes my wolf form is as tall if not taller than she is, she swallows hard.
“Good…doggy…” she whispers, backing away slowly, the fear in her eyes returning. I step towards her, sniffing her bleeding arm, and lick it gently. A sigh escapes her and she pets the top of my head with relief. “It’s really okay, puppy. I know you didn’t mean it.”
I don’t care what she thinks I meant or not, her blood is better than chocolate. I lick it until it stops bleeding, and she obediently stands there and thanks me as if I’m doing this for her. Tasting her blood is all for me, and I’m a greedy fucker.
“I better get out of these clothes…” she says.
The night is getting colder and she can't shake off her moisture like I do in response to what she says. She laughs, shielding herself from the torrential downpour that flies off me, and I let my tongue hang out like a puppy at the sound of her delight.
I lay down, rolling over and showing her my belly. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, but I have an urge for her to rub my underside and I have a feeling she will. She laughs again, the sound musical, and kneels beside me. Her hands sink into the fur of my underbelly and as she scratches my leg kicks on its own. I should be embarrassed, but instead I’m turned on. Impossibly and irrevocably turned on.
“You have got to be someone’s pet!” She laughs, scratching and petting me until I roll back over and she taps my nose. “Boop!”
I shake my head, mildly insulted, and lick her entire face in one stroke. She sputters, surprised, and laughs. I’ve just kissed her for the first time. I’ve tasted her mouth. She’s wearing strawberry lip gloss. I lick her face again, lick her so hard she falls down, and then I lick her neck, her chest, and she shoves me away forcefully.
“Goodness gracious! Are you a dog or a pervert?” She laughs, clearly meaning it as a joke, but I’m a mother fucking pervert.
I lay down and lick my paws as if I don’t understand a word she’s saying, but I watch her like the predator I am. She stands up, hands and her forehead and takes a few steadying breaths before she starts peeling off her wet clothes one layer at a time.
She wears a lot of layers. An annoying amount of layers. She takes off a knitted arms scarf thing, then a spaghetti strap shirt, then a long sleeve shirt, then a silk undershirt, until finally she's wearing only her skirt and her bra. I’m drooling, I can't help it. The bra is two sizes or more too small for her, I can see her nipples poking out over the flesh she’s got stuffed so tightly in there. As she drops the bra, so goes my jaw. Her areolas are small pale things, her nipples tiny but pierced, and connected with dangling silver chains that hang off her perfectly pert chest and connect to a belly ring. From there the chains hang loosely on her hips, and when she drops her skirt revealing she’s wearing no panties, I see that the chains dangle down her legs in intriguing patterns.
