Page 31 of Father of the Wolf

“Did the bathroom not do the trick then?”

“Hurry. Please.”

She approached him cautiously and opened the door. He moved quickly across the porch and onto the grass.

Standing still on the lawn, he closed his eyes and accepted the night into him. The night was what he needed. The soft breeze brought his sense of smell alive. The night sounds were a reminder of what freedom meant. The crickets with their merry chirps. The wind rustling leaves. The night soaked into him and calmed the beast within him. The call of the woods continued, but it was bearable now that he was not confined within the house. How easy it would be to run through the woods and fields and forget the pain of his injuries. Forget that he was hunted. Forget that his clan needed him.

His clan.

Athair had forgotten about the problems that came with remaining in wolf form too long. Those problems being that he would become less human and more wolf.

Still, it tempted him away from his responsibility, away from his family, and his children. Rath and Dàn were possibly still in danger, and he needed to recover so he could go in search of them. But first he needed to have control of his magic again.

He heard Hope’s soft step on the porch behind him. Athair forced his legs to take him back, and he lay down near the top of the steps. Once again facing the woods, it took all his strength to resist its appeal. He stared out for several more minutes and then, with a Herculean effort, he turned from the forest with a sigh to face Hope. He almost smiled when he saw she held a large knife slightly concealed in one hand and stood with the other one on the door handle. Despite her fear, she had come out into the night with him. But she had not come unarmed.

“What was that all about?” she asked.

“I am having some difficulties with my wolf form.” Again, she deserved the truth, even if it led to her asking him to leave.

“In what way?” Her body was still tense, and she was ready to fight or flee as needed. Still, her voice held steady, and she appeared close to calm.

“The longer I am trapped as a wolf, the less I will feel like a man. I will turn feral.” Already he felt and thought more as a wild animal would, sensing animals as either prey or predator, instead of by personality or even species.

She looked startled by this. Athair breathed in the scent of her fear. His own body tightened with the sense, preparing to take advantage of her weakness. He gritted his teeth against his wild instincts.

If I cannot regain control of my magic, I will continue to become wilder and eventually will lose my human self. If that happens, I will even forget I was a man at all. The simple act of forming his thoughts swept out the wild senses and focused his civilized mind.

“You would be dangerous.”

“Most likely I would run for the hills and not be seen again. Other options are not ones I want to consider.” Too much rested on his responsibility.

“Is there any way I can help you regain control of your…magic?” She stumbled over the word magic, but otherwise seemed to be dealing with the situation rather well. “Have you tried to change back since you woke up? Maybe you’ve improved enough.”

“I have not tried. If it won’t scare you, I can do so now.” At her nod, he stood again and concentrated on the ritual of change. He allowed the soothing chant to fill his mind and flow over his body. The electric tingling that signaled the change surged through him as his body shimmered. Then the energy dissipated. He failed to complete the change or hold his form as a man.

Discouraged, he lay down again. Hope let out her breath, as though it were her own failure. “Is it the poison that keeps you from changing?” she asked quietly.

“Yes. It is a toxic compound that disrupts our magic. I was probably a fool to have allowed myself into this position.” Although he did not know the exact compound, he could guess the base ingredient was wolfsbane by its violent effects.

She retrieved the bowl from the kitchen that she had prepared for him and placed it on the porch near his feet. “Your dinner is warm. Maybe that will help.” She then pulled out a chair set slightly off to one side, several feet from where Athair lay.

“Thank you. It smells delicious.” It was delicious. Hope had a very giving soul, to be willing to help him like this. To care enough to accept the strangeness he was imposing on her human life.

Chapter Eleven

Family and Clan

Cry of the Hunt

As the wolf ate the meal, Hope thought about what she had just witnessed. He’d stood completely still, and then had seemed to flicker like a million tiny lights flowed over his wolf body. And for just an instant, she thought she saw a man. A tall, muscular man. A naked man. Then the lights melted away. Maybe she’d blinked. No man remained, just the wolf again.

Was this for real? Well. If she had finally flipped her lid, at least she had a creative imagination.

He’d finished his meal and now stared off at the woods with an intensity that worried her. He was probably daydreaming of chasing deer and howling at the moon. So maybe she had better keep him talking. It just might help him stay civilized. Maybe she could even get some more answers about her own situation.

“When you told me your name, you mentioned children,” she said. “Does that mean you’re married? Do werewolves get married?”

“Yes, we get married. And no, I am not married.” His wolf body relaxed, but his mental thoughts seemed as alert as ever. His words and thoughts carried such deep context and feeling. The word married felt sad as it entered her mind. Was that because of his empathy?

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