It no longer matters how I came to be there in the forest in the middle of the night with a thunderstorm raging over my head. It’s too late. I know I am going to die, right here, right now.
A shuddering breath escapes my mouth as I tremble in place.
That’s when I hear the whimper.
Cringing deeper into the grove of the tree’s trunk, I squint into the inky blackness, unable to see a thing.
Rustling leaves reveal the wolf’s gradual approach. Wet dog smell wafts closer as another identical feeble sound reaches my ears. Over my own gasps, I can hear him faintly panting between soft whines.
Lightning flashes again overhead and I can see the wolf standing four feet in front of me.
His golden eyes are hypnotic and I cannot help but stare into them for that brief moment of silver illumination.
For some reason, I am no longer afraid. On the contrary, I am relieved by his presence.
My heart is still racing. I shiver, hugging myself as the trickles of rainwater cascade over me.
A long, low moan comes from the wolf before me.
Cautiously, I try to step away slowly, as quietly as possible.
I mean you no harm. I’m leaving. See? Everything’s cool.
He grunts and I throw my arms over my head defensively. “Don’t kill me!”
He snorts through his nose and emits a short, high-pitched yelp.
Wet fur brushes against my hip and gives a little push.
Caught off guard, I tumble to the wet dirt and leaves blanketing the forest floor and pain shoots up my knee as it collides with a protruding tree root. Between my clenched teeth, a hiss of pain seeps out as I pull my leg back.
It is pointless to try and examine the scrape, so I get back to my feet. Coarse, yet soft, damp fur brushes against my hand.
Instinctively, I pull away and cry out in fear.
What if he lunges at me? The thought terrifies me because I don’t know how I could possibly escape such an attack and live to tell the tale.
He doesn’t though. Instead, he whines again and pushes against my hip with his side. I can feel his ribs through his fur this time because his push is more forceful than the previous.
Oh sweet Jesus… A starving wolf is at my side and pushing me forward.
Why doesn’t he bite me? Why doesn’t he just attack me already and feast upon my carcass?
Where is his pack?
My thoughts are interrupted as he pushes me again, with even more force, and I stumble in the darkness into a tree trunk.
Lightning flashes overhead and I turn and glimpse him in the split second.
Is that worry in his golden eyes?
He presses his body against me more gently and keeps it there. He rolls his shoulders back into my hand, as if inviting me to touch him.
Hesitantly, I reach down and brush my trembling fingers against his shoulder blades. He groans in approval and again rolls his shoulders into my hand.
I am seized by terror. I don’t understand. What is he trying to do?
I pull away, but he pushes his body into my hip again.
Reaching down, I gently stroke his back and pull away quickly.
A happy-sounding moan meets my ears and he pushes me again.
I reach down and touch his shoulder blades and keep my hand there for a few seconds.
He pulls away and I quickly withdraw in fear, to which he whimpers and returns to my side and presses his body against mine again.
Swallowing my fear, I reach down and grip his fur gently in one hand.
He takes a step forward and I follow him. He takes another, anticipating me to follow him again. When I do, he steadily picks up his pace, step-by-step.
I realize that he is leading me through the dark forest.
As I grip his fur, lightning flashes overhead and I can briefly glimpse him leading me purposefully through the thick brush.
His pace is slow, so that I don’t trip over fallen logs, roots, or rocks as we make our way blindly through the pitch-blackness.
His fur is much softer than I ever expected a wolf’s fur to be, and for the briefest moment, my thoughts are stunned into silence. I am touching a living and breathing wolf. Not only that, but he is guiding me through the forest. I don’t know where, but my heart prays for someplace safe and dry.
I stumble over a few fallen logs, get caught in low hanging tree branches, and stagger through uneven ground, but the wolf just pauses and waits for me to find my footing again. Eventually, I begin to feel a slight incline. The soil feels less soft under my feet and more hard and rocky as we slowly climb up. We must be climbing the mountainside now. I don’t know which mountain, but that hardly matters at this time.
Through bursts of lightning, I can see us ascending a mountain with various other mountains both near and far in the distance. I look back, keeping my grip firm on the wolf’s fur, and see the forest we came through fall away behind me.
I wonder briefly where he is leading me, but when lightning flashes once more, I think I make out a dark opening in the side of the mountain. Could it be a cave?
I trip over my own two feet again and fall onto his back.
He jumps in surprise, turns, and snarls at me.
I back away, muttering softly under my breath, “Sorry. Sorry.”
Silence follows, and I swallow.
A snort of air rushes from his nostrils before I feel his shoulders brush under my fingertips again.
Biting my lip, I clasp his fur in my hand again and let him lead me forward once more.
Lightning flashes again as we step into the dark hole in the side of the mountain. Damp, cold air brushes against my exposed skin as we step inside, but the splatter of raindrops cease all at once and I know that we are safe at last.
He stops and I release my grip on him.
Exhaustion floods my senses then and I fall to my knees, wincing briefly at my scraped knee, and curl up in an effort to keep myself warm. The floor of the cave is hard and rough, and I have to shift to find a remotely comfortable position.
A second later, I feel his wet furry body press up against my back. At first I stiffen, but the warmth I feel from him relaxes me.
I don’t understand. Why did he bring me here? And why is he trying to keep me warm now? Why doesn’t he just eat me now and be done with it?
As much as these thoughts fill me with fear, I soon succumb to a deep and restless slumber.
At one point in my sleep, I think I feel a human arm draped around my waist, but I know it is just my imagination.
YOU ARE READING
Zara's Wolf (Book 1 of the Zara's Wolf Trilogy) BWWM
Werewolf[Complete] "He follows me around like a predator seeking a moment of weakness before he takes down his prey. But his eyes are soft and tell me a different story." Eighteen-year-old Zara is a born and raised African-American city girl. She's always...
