Into the Wild Dark

CHAPTER 34 - JACK

We were scared for each other. The thing about trauma was that while the traumatic thing was occuring, the possibility of death seemed a mere possibility. Later, we would have the hindsight to see where we should have been hysterical. Sunny moaned into my mouthlike the notes of a love song. I put space between us before I couldn't anymore.

"You gotta let me go. With this thunderstorm, we don't have much daylight left," I admonished gently.

Proving me right, thunder rumbled again as I jumped into the river. The rolling cacophony jarred me, ominous. Water dribbled down my face when I resurfaced. Sinuous arms cut through the current, and I pushed myself to find midstream. The standing stone should have been protruding from there, according to Yalina.

The Map of Destiny was in a chest buried at the base of the stone. I couldn't imagine anything less than a mermaid finding it easily. Ironic that whatever powers that be had entrusted its care to werewolves. I allowed myself to shift in order to test if wolf-shape might make the swim easier.

I had a secret, though. I hated shifting, hated the wild dark. Every transformation was a reminder I hadn't chosen to become Supernatural. Lycanthropy had been thrust upon me. Irrespective of that, being a werewolf had its perks. Namely, it gave me the strength and stamina I needed for the task at hand.

The transformation dimmed my vision. The whites of my eyes exposed as the pain-pleasure rippled through me. I grunted at the sharp contracture of muscles reshaping. It was like sex, but rougher. Like tearing into a steak, but more savage. Groaning, I let the morph complete. My boxers, my last article of clothing, floated off. Subsequently, with four legs instead of two, I dog-paddled my way through the rushing waters.

My inner wolf yipped at being released. Man-thoughts blurred as the animal in me took over, but there was enough rationality left to make sense of where I was and what I was doing. I scrounged for the stone. Submerged beneath the waves, it was impossible to see through the murk. So, I came up for air and went down again, trying to feel my way through, but the swim quickly tired even the wolf.

"Any luck?" Sunny called after a handful of minutes. I tossed my head and yelped. I swam farther in search of the stone. He followed me, but he didn't see me losing momentum.

Some struggles are silent. No screams. No pleas for assistance. I realized I was in trouble the minute the swift-moving current yanked me into its flow. I wanted Sunny to notice, but I couldn't lift my head.

Help me, I channeled. Help!

I warred with the water, observed the brown champagne bubbles of drowning speed past me to while I sank. Blindness wet my eyes. Tangled roots clawed my ankles. The Ravani DNA in my veins that usually promised rapid healing offered no resolution for lack of oxygen. I crested the riptide and chomped at a piece of driftwood. Carried in eddies and swirls beyond my jaws, it offered no safety.

Yowling, I morphed back into man-shape. I needed hands. At that moment, Sunny deduced what was happening and cried my name in consternation. I tried to rotate to find him. Unfortunately, the river carried me faster and farther away.

"Sunny," my damp voice barely registered. He sprinted along the shore after me.

"Jack, I'm coming in!" he yelled.

"Don't!" I choked on a mouthful of water and coughed. "Get a–branch."

My lover searched frantically for a tree branch that might reach me. But from the woods emerged two Fext soldiers. I gurgled to warn Sunny as the river tugged me onward. I didn't notice the dead tree stretching across the water until it struck the back of my head. With a grunt, I tried to cling to wakefulness, but my life flashed in a montage of gaiety. (Funny how drowning drew forth memories that made one want to stay alive.)