Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 64392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
I go to the window and look out. The sight of the rest of the fortress and the grounds and the walls beyond them makes me feel like a princess in a fairytale.
“This is nice,” I say to myself. “This is a good thing. It’s weird, but it is okay. I’m going to be okay. I’ve always been okay. I was alright before this, and I will be alright after this.”
This is the mantra that has kept me sane for years, through a bunch of things nobody should ever really have to live through.
I just need fresh air and to breathe. I’m already doing one of those things, and the window provides the other.
I stand in the shaft of the moon glow and feel my skin prickling ever so slightly. There’s a part of me that freaks out at the sensation. It’s far stronger than anything I’ve felt before just from standing in a window, and the paranoid part of my mind wonders if I am somehow allergic.
Then I realize that there is fur growing out of my forearms.
I’m shifting.
I didn’t start it, and I don’t know how to stop it.
I try to call for Cain, or anybody, but my mouth has already begun to elongate, becoming a muzzle. My body is growing more powerful and larger, and my mind is… well, my mind is feeling much, much better, because wolves apparently don’t have the same capacity to ruminate that I do.
Before I know it, I’m jumping out the window. There is a ledge below, which makes this fun and not suicidal. My senses are heightened, as is my hunger. I want something sweet, and I want it now.
I move down the outside of the building, jumping from ledge to ledge until I hit a roof. If I were to do this as a person, I’d be breaking all my weak, stupid human joints, but as a wolf, all the inner parts of me flex with strength and power, easily absorbing the impact. I can smell food everywhere. This place is absolutely packed with all manner of freshly cooked dishes, mostly of meat.
I can also smell other wolves. The scent of the pack is strong, in both human and beast form. I have already decided that I am going to avoid them. Their smells are unfamiliar and frightening to me. They are predators, after all. And it’s not that I am prey, but I am not part of their pack. The same senses that tell me to get food are telling me that they are dangerous to me.
I can’t just wander around this place smelling like an intruder. They’ll be onto me instantly. Fortunately, nature provides. There is a pond, one rich with weeds and fish and ducks and other things that smell a lot more than I do. I dive into it without hesitation, splashing around at the edges of the pond and collecting all the rich smelling stuff that has been festering on the edges.
I emerge, shake myself off, and am deeply satisfied with my new scent. Nobody is going to know that I’m here. They’re going to think they’re near a pond, which probably won’t arouse nearly as much suspicion.
I still try my best to avoid directly meeting anybody. Even though my scent is covered, their eyes will still work if they see me. I’ll be busted. I have a faint memory of Cain telling me not to leave the room, but that was when I was in my human form, and he was technically talking about the door. The thoughts pass through my mind swiftly and without too much consequence. In my wolf form, I just do stuff. I follow instinct and impulse, and both of those things feel great.
I sneak around through arches and doorways, following my nose. Every now and then I catch a brief whiff of something sweet, and also the scent of my mate. He’s here. I want to get to him, and I want to get to an ice cream cake. Is there an ice cream cake? There might be.
I pad through the shadows quietly, catching snippets of conversation here and there. Most of them don’t sound that interesting. General chit-chat, gossip about people I don’t know, small talk about the weather and hunting conditions. Maybe I’d find it interesting if I was a human, but as a wolf, I just don’t care. At least, I don’t care until I hear a voice.
“This is a complete waste of time. I don’t care what they say. Cain doesn’t have a mate, and if he does, it’s not some random domestic dilute who appeared out of nowhere a couple of days ago.”
There’s a round of laughter.
“She’s a domesticated dilute?” An amused voice full of barely veiled outrage responds with a derisive laugh. “He’s brought us a fucking pet dog?”