Page 5 of Howling Holidays

I test my strength by taking down a young buck, not for hunger's sake but for the primal satisfaction of the hunt. No pretense, no false civility. Life and death uncomplicated. This is the gift of my birthright. I patrol until the winter moon is high in the sky, reluctantly retreating to the sacred stone. I stand before the gateway stone once more, naked and limber after the long run.

"I return your gift with gratitude. Revert the wildling so I may walk as man," I call out in my mind. The shift back brings none of the discomfort of transforming into wolf form. It feels like a gentle reshaping, realignment. Two beings merging into one. I roll my neck, loosening the last clinging chaos from my shoulders. Control returns.

Dressing quickly against the chill, I start to head back to my truck through the silent woods. My grandmother’s words echo as I trek on, listening to the storm building force. Change strains against the tethers I thought unbreakable. My wolf cannot run far enough to leave fate's grasp. If my encounter with the rogue wolf in the forest earlier is any indication, something sinister is coming like it had before. Whatever is heading for Everwood will find me, ready or not. And I can only place my faith in Luna's grace that I prove worthy when it does.

Chapter four

Emily

Thesnowswirlsdownin earnest as I curse myself yet again for deciding to drive to Everwood during one of the first storms of the season. My rental car is clearly no match for the quickly accumulating inches blanketing the remote backroad I'd taken as a shortcut to town. I guess I learned the hard way that GPS isn't as reliable in rural areas.

To keep myself distracted from the cold as I walk, I mentally replay the voicemail that had prompted this abrupt trip in the first place:

"Emily dear, it's Amelia your grandmother. I know it's been some time, but I'm asking you to come to Everwood as soon as you can. Things have taken a turn for the worse I'm afraid. I know you’re busy and it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, but I hope you can find it in your heart to visit once more. Let us part as a united family. Safe travels, my dear girl."

My grandmother's voice sounded thin and weak, so different from the strong, stubborn woman I recalled from childhood. We'd grown apart after my father died and my mother moved us to Boston for a fresh start. Years passed between visits to Everwood until they ceased altogether after I left for college.

Still, as one of the only family members I had left, the plea in my grandmother’s message awoke suppressed feelings of duty. Though she passed last week shortly after leaving me that message, I feel a strong pull to be here for her funeral and to help sort out her affairs. I mourn the fact that I didn’t get to say goodbye, and it weighs heavily on me.

And so I requested emergency leave from my job, rented a car, and embarked on the long drive from Boston to rural northeastern Vermont. I have to admit, I find myself longing for awkward but tender moments reminiscing with Amelia about Dad and being back in the town that felt like my second home so long ago. Her loss is affecting me more than I had expected. The blizzard derailing my arrival seems an ill omen of challenges to come.

Lost in thought, I didn't notice the headlights approaching until they were nearly upon me. I turn just as a dark pickup truck pulls up alongside and slows to a stop. My fist instinctively tightens on the flashlight, though logically no one with ill intent would stop to help a stranger in distress in this kind of storm. Still, a young woman can't be too careful these days.

The driver’s side door swings open, and I'm met with an unexpected sight - a tall, ruggedly handsome man with piercing amber eyes. He looks to be only a few years older than me, wearing a thick down jacket, plaid button down, and jeans with snow dusted boots. His chestnut hair is tousled, and a day's worth of stubble shadows his jaw. I shuffle a few steps closer while still maintaining a cautious distance. He appears to be alone.

"Can I help you?" he asks, his voice a rich baritone that carries over the wind and sends an unexpected shiver through me. My initial wariness eased slightly at the genuine concern in his tone.

I realize I'm staring and give myself a mental shake. "Sorry, yes. My car slid off the road about a half mile back,” I explained, pointing in the direction I came from. "Then the snow started really coming down. No cell service out here to call for help so I started walking toward that tree farm over there."

His gaze sweeps over me, no doubt taking in my windblown hair and rosy cheeks. He shakes his head sympathetically. " Not the best night to be out driving. The landscape around here can be deceptive even without a snowstorm like this. Why don't you climb on into the truck where it's warm? I'll take you back to fetch your car and see if I can help."

I hesitate, squinting at him through the falling snow. He stands at least a head taller than my 5'6" frame, very muscular and looks to be in his late twenties. The lines around his eyes seemed premature for his age, but those amber eyes...they pierce through the wintery darkness like sunlight burning through mist. Somehow, those eyes tell me I can trust him.

"Thank you for stopping, really. I'm Emily," I offer, hoping social niceties will put us both at ease. "Are you headed toward Everwood by chance?"

"I'm Logan. My grandmother and I have a cabin just up the road. You're welcome to wait out the storm there until the plows clear the way to town in the morning." He speaks matter-of-factly while moving around to help me into the passenger seat.

I hesitate, startled by the offer. Stay the night with a complete stranger? But as I glance at the darkening sky, I know he's right. I won't make it far, and the idea of being stranded alone is far worse.

"I...I don't want to impose," I say uncertainly.

"It's no trouble," Logan assures me. "My grandmother won't mind an extra guest. I'd worry about you out here alone."

His voice is kind, his eyes earnest. He seems trustworthy, and capable of handling any threat. And there's an undeniable attraction between us that makes the prospect intriguing.

"Well...if you're sure it won't be an inconvenience," I say slowly.

Logan smiles, lighting up his handsome face. "It's settled then."

I hesitate only a moment before taking his offered hand and climbing gratefully into the blissful warmth of the truck's cab. His truck is a classic old black Chevrolet, but it looks to be well taken care of. Logan maneuvers his truck down the snowy backroads, scanning for my stranded car. I point it out up ahead, a dark shape half-buried in a snowbank.

He pulls up and hops out to assess the situation. I nervously watch him trudge through the drifts to inspect my car. After a few moments, he returns.

"Good news - doesn't look like any damage. I'll hook up my tow strap and see if I can pull you out."

I nod, standing back as he retrieves the heavy strap and hooks one end to his truck's hitch. With gloved hands, he attaches the other end to the frame under my car.

He extracts it from the ditch with ease, seemingly done with experience. Probably a common occurrence out here in the backcountry where people still looked out for one another.

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