The Bitten Wolf

Chapter 9: Soul Mates

   "What the hell are you?" he hissed, hazel eyes stormy beneath his bushy eyebrows, which were drawn together with fear and anger.

   "Daddy." I pleaded through the pain, trying to keep my wolf-like howls in. It felt like my skin would tear at any second, like my fingers were going to fall off, like my teeth were going to split my gums apart.

   "Don't lie to me you stupid creature! What have you done to my daughter?!"

   I howled in pain, tears springing into my eyes, "Daddy, I'm Hazel! I'm your daughter!"

   Something like recognition showed in his hazel eyes, which matched my own, but it was gone before I could identify it. I doubled over, digging my nails into my palms only to find that they were much sharper. I clenched my teeth, but my fangs made it hard to, giving me a wolfish grin instead.

   My father's eyes widened and he raced out of the room. I dropped to the floor, screaming. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a knife on the kitchen counter. Slowly, I dragged myself towards it. Anything to end this pain.

   I never made it to the knife. In the end, I didn't need it because the pain stopped as suddenly as it had started. Everything was clearer and seemed more real, as if the sounds and scents were jumping out at me, like the picture does in a 3-D movie.

   The other thing I noticed was that I now had two sides of me - the wolf side and the human side. Both had fear in them, but of a different sort. The wolf in me was scared of the enclosed space, as well as the smell of humans. The human side was scared of what my father was going to do.

   A muddy scent hit my nose, followed by laughter, which seemed too loud for my ears. I backed away, the wolf side stronger than my human side and taking over my body. My little brother appeared, muddy from being outside all day.

   I growled deep in my throat, the wolf sensing danger and getting ready to defend itself.

   Run Harry, I wanted to scream. I didn't want to hurt him. One part of me battled the other, trying to gain full control of my body, of my thoughts, of my actions.

   "Daddy, there's a wolf in the kitchen." His voice was calm, brown eyes studying my face. He moved towards me, reaching out his little hand.

   Don't come closer! I thought, slowly gaining control over my wolf part, I don't want to hurt you! Too slowly.

   My jaws snapped down an inch away from his little fingers. He drew back, but continued on towards me. For God's sake, he's only five! my mind screamed.

   Finally, he rested his hand on my muzzle staring intently into my eyes.

   "Hazel?" he whispered, wonder and awe on his face. I nodded, having regained almost complete control over my wolf form.

   Then, our dad burst into the kitchen, hunting rifle in his hand.

   Harry turned to him, shaking his head, "Daddy, it's Hazel!"

   "Step away from the wolf!" he yelled at my little brother, aiming the rifle at me. I knew he wouldn't shoot me yet; he wouldn't risk shooting Harry.

   Harry crossed his arms over his chest, standing his ground, "No."

   "Step. Aside." Harry shook his head, pouting. I smiled inside, reminded of the face he used to make when he wanted a cookie, but knew I'd have to get it for him because he couldn't reach the cookie jar.