Thea's Wolves

THEA VS. JESPER FAHEY

The images blur, shift, and flow like the rapid rushing of a river. My mind is water in a stream, swirling around flashes of memory, diving into pools of forgotten memories. Everything moves too quickly, flashes of color and emotion that I can't seem to latch onto, and then I'm falling, tumbling, crashing over the side of the road. Killian's arm is across my chest, and I feel the snap of my bones, hear the shattering of my truck against the tree.

Dirt is beneath my fingernails and rain falls on my torn, bloody skin as I crawl up the ravine to find him. I make it to the top, barely breathing. He stands on the road, gaze locked on the red-eyed, rotting monster that caused our crash. I call for him, and he turns, but it is at that exact moment that the wolf decides to attack. It launches itself towards Killian at a speed I hardly thought it capable of.

They collide in a tumble of skin and fur. The horrifying snapping of bones assaults my ears, and I would have screamed if there was enough breath left in my lungs. But as I watch hopelessly, the crushing and cracking isn't from Killian being torn apart. As the two collide and roll across the pavement, they become not beast and man, but beast and wolf. Killian the man is no longer, but a massive wolf that would stand at my own height rises instead.

It--he--growls at his adversary and my vision loses focus as I sway, falling to my knees. They are a blur of teeth, fur, snarls and claws, snapping and tearing at each other in a fight that will most certainly end in death. I hear a squealing howl of pain that is quickly silenced by a splatter of blood across the pavement. My eyes are able to focus once more as the wolf--Killian--releases the other beast's neck from his maw.

I should have seen this coming, and in a way I did. They call him Alpha. They all live together, like a wolf pack. They have a heightened sense of smell and disappear for days at a time. I wasn't welcome because I wasn't one of them; they thought I would tell. The lines drawn on the map in Killian's room were territory boundaries, red around enemies and blue around allies. The beach with the zombie man, which is most likely one of the same creatures Killian just killed, was enemy territory. He was afraid of me living alone because of the beast that just ran us off the road.

Killian meets my gaze, blazing amber on knowing grey.

...

"Thea... Thea."

Hands are on my shoulders, shaking me gently.

"C'mon, wake up!"

I feel the soft press of leaves beneath my body, a few rocks and twigs poking painfully under my weight. The hands on my body are more insistent, cupping my face, squeezing my hand, pulling me away from the forest floor. The forest floor? I am cradled into someone's lap. I can hear heavy breathing, feel it on the crown of my head.

"THEA!"

My eyes fly open as I launch myself out of Killian's arms. I scramble through the leaves, tearing myself from his reaching hands. My breaths come in shallow gasps, shaky limbs barely holding myself upright to fix my gaze on his kneeling form. Everything comes rushing back to me at the speed of light: the forest, the human skull, the suppressed memory. Killian's expression is open and unguarded, his whiskey eyes swirling pools of worry, fear, and anxiety. Killian--wolf. He reaches for me, stops, reads my flinch, retracts. Wolf--Killian.

"Lycanthropy? Really?" Is the first thing I say, watching the confusion then resignation settle on his features.

His eyes glance anxiously around us, gingerly reaching for me once more. "We--this isn't important right now."

"Uh, no. I decide what is or isn't important," I forcefully correct, standing to my feet on shaky legs and slapping away his attempts to help. "And I think discussing your little fur problem happens to be incredibly important!"