Chapter 6: Chapter Six

The scream was stuck in my throat, but my feet worked fine. I backpedaled as fast as I could, slamming right into Ben’s chest and spinning off it in an attempt to run for the back door.

“Don’t!” Ben called out sharply, hand reaching for my wrist but only catching the remnants of my sleeve.

I ignored him, reaching for the back door and throwing it open. I couldn’t breathe as I ran, grass crunching underfoot as I sprinted into the clearing, hysteria making my knees shake.

I pushed my legs as fast as they could go, cursing myself for wearing strappy sandals and a long skirt. I tripped over the flowing material and fell hard on my knees.

I scrambled to stand, pulling at my skirt and trying to find purchase on the dewy grass.

Just as I was starting to stand, a heavy weight pressed down on my back, forcing my knees to collapse and thrusting me hard down to the ground.

All of the air in my lungs was forced out as my chin and chest collided with the ground.

I squirmed under the weight, feeling four sharp points digging into my skin. Lungs frozen, I forced myself to turn my face against the grass, peering out of the corner of my eye at what was hovering over me.

Without even hearing, the wolf from the kitchen had chased and caught me. It was breathing heavily over me, one heavy paw still planted on my back, its claws exploring my skin tentatively.

I released a high-pitched whimper, fear solidifying my stomach and then liquefying it. My entire body started to shake as an acute, sharp nausea swept over me, and I was forced to close my eyes.

I felt the wolf remove its paw from my back, and then it pressed its nose against the back of my neck, its exhale ruffling my hair.

I squeezed my eyes shut and dug my face into the grass. The wolf’s teeth picked up the strap of my bag and then dropped it. Still shaking, I pressed my palms underneath me.

I wasn’t sure if I was going to accept my fate and allow myself to be slaughtered or if I had enough courage to flip myself over and fight.

“Morda,” Ben called, his voice muffled. “Don’t move.”

I tried to open my mouth, but no sound came out. Instead, I kept my eyes shut and focused on opening my ears. I tried to listen for Ben, I wanted to figure out how far away he was from me.

I heard his careful steps somewhere to my left.

“Oak,” he called, “don’t do anything, buddy.”

I heard a low growl rumble above me and bit hard into my tongue. The wolf’s paw returned to my back, and I felt its underbelly graze my back.

It must have been crouching over me, protecting its prey from a potential predator.

“Back down,” Ben ordered, his voice rising in pitch. “It’s okay, buddy.”

As slowly as I could, I turned my head to the side I thought Ben was.

The wolf was too focused on Ben to notice my movements, for which I was thankful because if I hadn’t seen Ben—calm, confident, and in control—then I wouldn’t have been able to stay still any longer.

Ben’s eyes flickered down to mine, something deep and painful in them. “I’m sorry,” he said, looking at the wolf, “this is my curse, not yours.”

I was still shaking, my entire body convulsing with stress and fear. The wolf’s paw was growing heavy and warm on the center of my back, and I found myself wishing it would do something.

This space between the catch and the kill was driving me insane.

“Oak,” Ben called again, taking a few careful steps forward, “let her go.”

The wolf growled and buckled down, its paw landing so heavily on my back that I was sure it would snap my spine in two.

I flexed my fingers, digging into the soft earth as I tried my best not to scream and thrash.

I felt my eyes grow wide as I registered two dark shapes behind Ben.

At first I thought I was only seeing shadows cast out by the woods, but then I found two pairs of eyes hanging in the dark and then two sets of teeth. I opened my mouth to scream, but fear choked me off.

The two wolves approached Ben slowly, heads low and tails swishing back and forth. Both wolves had their hackles raised, coarse hair lifted to make their bodies look larger.

Just as they were about to graze Ben’s back, they split and flanked him, breathing heavy and staring straight ahead.

I realized with a start that Ben knew the wolves were there, and he wasn’t afraid. The wolves weren’t bothered or distracted by Ben either.

They were staring, I gathered, at the wolf that was still pinning me to the forest floor.

“Take him down,” Ben mumbled, his expression falling to mine with a look of regret and disappointment and sorrow.

Immediately, the two wolves flanking Ben rushed us, and for the first time, I was able to scream.

The sound was loud and piercing and distracted the wolf above me long enough for the other two to launch themselves at the wolf, tackling him and effectively releasing me.

Before I had time to move, Ben was there with his hand clamped on my upper arm. He pulled me through the air, pressing me to his side and running for the house.

He was running too fast for me to keep up. My knees were shaking too bad, and I was in too much shock to be able to coordinate my feet.

Ben didn’t seem to notice as he pulled me along, hands firm and solid on my skin.

“It’s okay,” Ben murmured to me as we pushed through the back door, “everything is all right.” When we were through the door, Ben placed me in a chair and then ran back outside.

I sat in the sudden silence, unable to hear or process the sound of growls and snaps.

My body was shaking, but my hands were oddly still. I stared at them, trying to find some sort of normalcy and comfort.

I couldn’t remember what had happened before the wolf pinned me to the ground, but I couldn’t remember why I was there at all.

Everything in that moment felt surreal—the chair I was sitting on, the kitchen around me, the way my hands weren’t shaking.

I caught myself wondering if the wolf had killed me and everything now was a product of my afterlife.

“Morda?” Ben was crouched in front of me, hands on my hands. I blinked a few times, wondering how long he had been sitting there and I had been unable to see him.

I felt the wolf’s paw on my back again and shivered, feeling each point where its claws touched my skin through my thin shirt. I smelled the grass, heavy and damp as my face was pressed against it.

I felt the breath of the wolf on the back of my neck, my shoulders, my back.

“She’s in shock, Ben,” I heard Will say. “She might need medical attention.”

I looked around, realizing I was in front of the fireplace and a glass of water was in my hands. Will and Ben were both in front of me, and Fitz was leaning against the mantle, shaking his head.

All of a sudden, pressure built up in my throat, and I felt the scream buried there. I opened my eyes, and I was staring at the forest floor.

I felt twigs nipping at my cheeks and arms and realized I was stuck underneath the bush the night Kale, Amanda, Britt, and I had been chased by wolves.

I watched their paws run by as they chased the others. I was safe.

“—my fault,” Ben was saying, “I shouldn’t have brought her to the house, I thought Oak was farther out, I thought—”

I was still in front of the fire, but the glass of water was gone, and I was tucked underneath a heavy blanket.

Ben was sitting on the table in front of me while Will built up the fire, and Fitz lounged on the couch beside me.

“If this is how she’s going to react every time she sees a wolf, then she won’t be able to survive in our world, Ben,” Fitz said.

“She can’t go comatose every time we shift. Fuck, Ben, if she goes into shock when we shift, she might actually die if you do.”

“This isn’t funny, Fitz,” Will said. “Morda could be in serious medical trouble. I still think we should take her to the emergency room, just to be safe—”

“No,” Ben said. He was looking at me intensely from his place on the table. His eyes were scanning my face intently, and for the first time I was able to lift mine to meet them.

Ben recoiled slightly, surprised that I was responding. “Morda? Are you—”

“What happened?” I demanded, my voice hoarse.

Will jumped up and grabbed my glass of water, setting it in my hand and urging me to drink. I didn’t.

I looked down at myself and found my shirt and skirt to be stained, ripped, and wrinkled. My hands were dirty too, half-moon crescents under my fingernails darkened with dirt.

“You were attacked by a wolf,” Ben said simply.

Fitz and Will looked stricken. “In your dreams after you passed out in our kitchen,” Fitz added.

“You fell over and broke all of our nicest cups—which we forgive you for—and then you started having really, ~really~, vivid hallucinations.”

Ben didn’t flinch one bit as he said, “We’re werewolves.”

Will’s face turned purple, and Fitz rolled his eyes. I only watched Ben’s reaction, though, trying my best to detect any sort of joke or lie in his tawny eyes. I found nothing but honesty and trust.

“We’re also joking,” Fitz said.

“You didn’t really faint. You were attacked by a wolf, but we scared it off, and everything is fine. You can go home and forget everything, and we can start packing up our stuff, starting with Ben’s shit.”

Will shook his head, fury oozing out of him as he glared at Ben. “After all this—after everything—”

Ben held my gaze. “Believe me, Morda, I’m not lying.”

The scary thing was I did believe him.

“Ben!” Will shouted. “You can’t just—”

“You’re a lunatic, Ben,” Fitz said grimly, “and you’re going to get us all killed.”

“Werewolves,” I said, testing out the word. Will groaned, and Fitz swore.

Ben nodded, eyes oddly hopeful. “That’s right.”

I spent a few seconds gathering in my head everything I knew about werewolves. I thought of all the general common knowledge, the media representations, the characters in books.

I thought about the wolves I had seen in the woods, and oddly, I thought of my mother.

“And the wolf that was in your kitchen,” I said slowly, “the one who—who attacked me?”

“Werewolf,” Ben said.

Will threw up his hands. “You’re damn selfish, Ben.”

“And damn stupid,” Fitz added, glaring at me now.

“But—” I started.

“But they’re not real, but they’re only in movies, but it can’t be true,” Fitz interjected, rolling his eyes. “Whatever you’re going to say, save it.”

I turned, glaring at him with as much ferocity as I could manage. “What I was going to say was that if werewolves are real, then witches must be too.”

All three of the boys sat in silence.

I turned over my ideas in my head. If Ben was telling the truth, then who was to say my mother wasn’t? Why couldn’t witches exist if werewolves did?

What if my mother hadn’t devoted her life to a gimmick but to her actual power?

“Unexpected,” Fitz admitted.

Ben thought about it for a long moment and shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”

Will shook his head. “You can’t tell anyone, Morda,” he warned. “We… no one can know what we are or that we’re here or—”

Their worries about being tracked were starting to make more sense. Will began pacing back and forth. “We’re in trouble, and if anyone knows or finds us—”

I held up a hand and closed my eyes, a headache springing up out of nowhere. “I have no one to tell,” I told him. “No one would believe me.”

Will was about to open his mouth again, but a look from Ben shut him up.

“So the wolf that attacked me,” I hedged, “the… person who attacked me?”

Ben looked uncomfortable. “Oak… well, he’s sort of stuck in his wolf form. Been that way for the past two and a half years.” Will and Fitz both started to fidget.

“I don’t think he would have hurt you, he has enough sense left to know… well, to know not to hurt humans, but he… well, we never really know.”

I shivered. “Stuck as a wolf,” I repeated. “He must…” I trailed off, not knowing exactly what to say.

How would that feel? To lose yourself in another form? To be unable to express yourself, to be stuck on the outskirts of your own life?

“We look out for him,” Ben said. “He’s a part of our… pack.” Ben’s eyes flickered away from mine, almost as if in embarrassment.

“I see,” I said, the words foreign to my ears.

Fitz sighed. “I need a beer.” He left the room and rummaged through the kitchen, coming back with four beers and handing one to all of us.

I sat with my beer in my hands, filtering through ideas as I digested what Ben was telling me.

Will flicked the cap off his beer and nearly chugged it all in one go. He took a deep breath afterward and grimaced. “Sorry,” he said, “I just… fuck it.”

He brought the bottle back to his lips and finished it off.

Fitz whistled. “Well, all right then.”

Ben set his untouched beer aside and reached for my hand. Part of me wanted to pull away, but I stayed perfectly still. I looked at him closely, trying to discern what he would look like as a wolf.

I couldn’t see it, couldn’t picture his features morphing into something else entirely. The only part that made sense were his eyes.

“I didn’t want to tell you any of this,” he told me honestly. I tried to ignore the slight sting.

“I didn’t want to get you involved… this”—he waved his hand. “All of this is my curse, my burden to bear, not yours.”

“You didn’t think I could handle it?” I asked.

“I didn’t want you to have to,” Ben answered.

I pursed my lips and thought back to our date, to our conversation. Ben had told me he was an outcast among misfits.

Now his words took on a new meaning, they morphed into something else entirely that left my plight with bullying seem inconsequential.

“How many more of you are there?” I asked, not sure if I was ready for the answer.

Ben looked over his shoulders at Will and Fitz. “I’m not sure… a lot, though, spread over the country and throughout the world. I think there are maybe three or four packs who call this state home.”

Will nodded. “Everyone fights for Oregon, lots of forest room.”

Fitz rolled his eyes. “We’re trying to hide in plain sight apparently.”

“Why are you guys hiding?” I asked. None of them spoke up, even Ben cast his look aside. I got it. They didn’t trust me.

After all, whatever had sent them running was enough to keep them hiding for years. I hadn’t earned a place to be a part of that yet.

I looked around for my bag and found it thrown on the kitchen table. I stood promptly then, folding the blanket over the back of the couch, and headed to the table to collect my things.

Ben followed me silently, his eyes trained on my back.

I turned to him slowly, feeling the familiar strap of my bag and drawing some comfort from it. “I want to go home now,” I told him, “please take me.”

Ben nodded, casting a quick gaze over his shoulder to his friends before leading me away from the back door and to the front porch.

I was thankful he did this because I was not sure if I would ever be ready to see the clearing again.

I didn’t have to check my phone to know it was past midnight.

This time of night had a different feel from the rest of the sunless hours; this time of night was where honesty brewed and recklessness took hold.

“He’s not out here anymore,” Ben told me, his voice lowered as we walked through the woods. “Will and Fitz chased him for a good long time. You don’t have to worry.”

I looked around reflexively, scanning the trees for signs of wildlife. Ben was quiet beside me. He walked with his head lowered and his mouth set in a grim, straight line. The night was weighing on him.

“It wasn’t your fault,” I whispered. “The attack—it wasn’t your fault.”

Ben closed his eyes, stopping next to a thick maple. “I need to know,” he said, leaning on the tree for support. “I need to know if I’ll ever see you again.”

I blinked. “What?”

Ben sounded almost feverish. “After finding out… after tonight… after—”

“You think I don’t want to see you anymore?” I asked.

Ben winced. “I’d understand.”

“You don’t understand,” I told him, “to be surrounded by strange your entire life but to chalk it up to nothing more than delusion and odd interest.

“To now know that weird is out there, that the supernatural exists… well, it’s the best news I think I’ve ever gotten.”

Ben was now the confused one. “You’re…happy about this?”

“I’m a little more than surprised,” I told him. I spoke slowly, working out my own thoughts and feelings as I went.

“But I figured there had to be something strange about a boy who lived in the woods with a group of misfits.”

I left out the burning curiosity that I had. I felt like there were a thousand questions trapped just before my lips. It took all the control I had not to ramble them off.

Ben managed a wry smile. “I never planned to tell you, but in an odd way, I feel relieved that you know.” Silently, he reached for my hand and squeezed it lightly.

My heart squeezed too, and I had to hold my breath. I felt for a moment extraordinarily special. Ben had chosen me to share his secret with—it felt nice to finally be the one worth choosing.

“I’m glad you told me,” I said, “though I wish it wasn’t prompted by an animal attack.”

Ben chuckled. “In my world, animal attacks happen all the time.”

I shook my head slowly. “Your world,” I tried it out, “~your supernatural world.~”

“Secret’s out now,” Ben said with a smile.

Now I had to see what secrets were still hiding.