CHAPTER ONE
January, 1995
Even without her glasses, Sarah knew that she was staring at a werewolf. Rather than being afraid, numbness settled over her body, freezing her in place. It was an odd reaction, yet she wasn’t entirely surprised. She had spent the past twenty-four hours in utter terror that she would be killed by a wild creature, and there was a strange comfort in seeing her worst fear standing before her.
The wolf watched her from the other side of the creek. Its posture was lax, but Sarah knew that it could clear the stream in an instant. She would probably be dead before she could scream—not that there was anyone around to hear her.
After regarding her for what was quite possibly the longest moment of her life, the wolf knelt down and began to drink from the stream. The rhythmic sound of its tongue lapping at the water further served to calm her. Each second that it drank was another second that it was seemingly uninterested in eating her.
As the initial shock began to wear off, Sarah’s nerve endings started to prickle with renewed awareness. She remembered the pounding headache, the blistering cold, and the gnawing hunger that had plagued her just moments ago, before she’d seen the werewolf.
Keeping her eyes on the wolf, she took a step back. The sound of snow crunching beneath her feet seemed to echo through the forest, louder than the rush of the stream and louder than the hammering of her heartbeat. The wolf didn’t look up.
She took another step backwards, wonde ring if it was just playing with her, letting her think she could escape. The instant she turned her back, it would probably maul her from behind.
Abruptly, the wolf thrust its head into the water. The movement was almost too quick to register, and it startled her enough to jump. When its head came back up, it was holding a thrashing fish between its jaws. With an easy shake of its head, the wolf flung the fish into the air. It landed in the snow in front of her, its tail flopping back and forth in agitation.
Sarah looked be tween the fish and the wolf, and then lowered herself to pick up the flailing creature. The fish was slippery and the large puncture wound in its side did little to dull its resolve. It thrashed wildly in her hands, and it took her several tries to pick it up. Once she had a secure grip on it, victory surged through her veins. She looked back over to the wolf, but it was already walking away, a dark brown blur sauntering off into the forest.
She should have been overjoyed. The wolf was leaving her in peace, and had even given her something to eat. But it dawned on her as she stood there, the fish squirming in her icy hands, that despite both of these facts, she was still royally screwed. Her car was still totaled, her glasses were still lost, and she was still stranded in the wilderness with no means of finding her way home.
The fish gave one final twitch before its life gave out. She frowned down at it, feeling a little guilty, even as she imagined it seared and topped with a lemon-butter sauce. The poor fish had just been swimming along, minding its own business, and then all of a sudden it had become the victim of a cruel fate.
Sarah knew that she would probably be next.
The wolf was just a small smudge on the horizon now. After a brief hesitation, Sarah dashed after it. Water from the stream made its way into her flats as she crossed, but her feet were already too cold to be bothered by it. She slowed as she neared the wolf, not wanting to alarm it.
“Um… Excuse me…” she called out. The wolf continued walking and didn’t look back. “Do you think you could point me in the direction of the nearest town?”
It was far too big to be anything but a werewolf. Despite that, Sarah still felt strange talking to a giant animal. She didn’t know a lot about werewolves, but then again, few humans really did. Like other shifters, they lived in
January, 1995
Even without her glasses, Sarah knew that she was staring at a werewolf. Rather than being afraid, numbness settled over her body, freezing her in place. It was an odd reaction, yet she wasn’t entirely surprised. She had spent the past twenty-four hours in utter terror that she would be killed by a wild creature, and there was a strange comfort in seeing her worst fear standing before her.
The wolf watched her from the other side of the creek. Its posture was lax, but Sarah knew that it could clear the stream in an instant. She would probably be dead before she could scream—not that there was anyone around to hear her.
After regarding her for what was quite possibly the longest moment of her life, the wolf knelt down and began to drink from the stream. The rhythmic sound of its tongue lapping at the water further served to calm her. Each second that it drank was another second that it was seemingly uninterested in eating her.
As the initial shock began to wear off, Sarah’s nerve endings started to prickle with renewed awareness. She remembered the pounding headache, the blistering cold, and the gnawing hunger that had plagued her just moments ago, before she’d seen the werewolf.
Keeping her eyes on the wolf, she took a step back. The sound of snow crunching beneath her feet seemed to echo through the forest, louder than the rush of the stream and louder than the hammering of her heartbeat. The wolf didn’t look up.
She took another step backwards, wonde ring if it was just playing with her, letting her think she could escape. The instant she turned her back, it would probably maul her from behind.
Abruptly, the wolf thrust its head into the water. The movement was almost too quick to register, and it startled her enough to jump. When its head came back up, it was holding a thrashing fish between its jaws. With an easy shake of its head, the wolf flung the fish into the air. It landed in the snow in front of her, its tail flopping back and forth in agitation.
Sarah looked be tween the fish and the wolf, and then lowered herself to pick up the flailing creature. The fish was slippery and the large puncture wound in its side did little to dull its resolve. It thrashed wildly in her hands, and it took her several tries to pick it up. Once she had a secure grip on it, victory surged through her veins. She looked back over to the wolf, but it was already walking away, a dark brown blur sauntering off into the forest.
She should have been overjoyed. The wolf was leaving her in peace, and had even given her something to eat. But it dawned on her as she stood there, the fish squirming in her icy hands, that despite both of these facts, she was still royally screwed. Her car was still totaled, her glasses were still lost, and she was still stranded in the wilderness with no means of finding her way home.
The fish gave one final twitch before its life gave out. She frowned down at it, feeling a little guilty, even as she imagined it seared and topped with a lemon-butter sauce. The poor fish had just been swimming along, minding its own business, and then all of a sudden it had become the victim of a cruel fate.
Sarah knew that she would probably be next.
The wolf was just a small smudge on the horizon now. After a brief hesitation, Sarah dashed after it. Water from the stream made its way into her flats as she crossed, but her feet were already too cold to be bothered by it. She slowed as she neared the wolf, not wanting to alarm it.
“Um… Excuse me…” she called out. The wolf continued walking and didn’t look back. “Do you think you could point me in the direction of the nearest town?”
It was far too big to be anything but a werewolf. Despite that, Sarah still felt strange talking to a giant animal. She didn’t know a lot about werewolves, but then again, few humans really did. Like other shifters, they lived in
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