Page 86 of The Lone Wolf Café
It was a sign. It read: ACADIA NATIONAL PARK.
Whoa. My wolfish eyes widened, my heart hammering excitedly in my chest. I read about this place in books. National parks were sanctuaries – areas designated by humans to have their natural features forever preserved. They were havens for wildlife, and werewolf packs considered them to be neutral zones. Which made Acadia a beautiful, untouched wilderness perfect for us to wander, hunt, and nap in solace.
We continued at a sprinting pace, following the winding swirls of the human road while remaining tucked against the foliage so we wouldn’t be seen. The terrain took on a steep but steady incline, and as we continued running up the trail, I realized the trees were getting sparser and shorter, the fiery deciduous species becoming scarce among the evergreen pines.
Then there was a clearing; a break in the trees that allowed me to see the world beyond the forest. And once I saw just how much of it was spread out beneath us, I realized we were climbing up a mountain.
A thick layer of foliage was rolled out below us like a carpet, the trees getting smaller and smaller until they looked like dollhouse miniatures along the coast. From there, the ocean lolled across the horizon, wide and vast and endlessly blue. Small coniferous islands dotted the foggy landscape, and I wondered how far away my own home was. If from here, Hollenboro would benothing but a tiny dot, a single speck of dirt on a sprawling canvas. Or if I’d even be able to see it at all.
The sky was getting lighter. We didn’t have much time until sunrise.
Rowena was antsy, paws tapping the rocky ground as she waited for me to finish admiring the view. I finally pulled myself away and galloped after her, knowing an even more impressive sight awaited us at the top of the mountain.
The rest of the journey was steep and winding, and despite her almost-healed injury, Rowena was insistent on running through it as fast as possible. My paws stomped the ground like a racehorse, my strides lengthening and hastening as we climbed; higher and higher, faster and faster. My lungs heaved, my legs ached, and I could feel the adrenaline pulsing through my body with every thumping heartbeat. But the exertion only pushed me to run quicker. In my wolf form, I never felt more alive than when I was exercising. The blood pumping in my veins and the fresh mountain air filling my lungs was what we werewolves lived for. It was a part of us.
Then, Rowena stopped. I slid to a halt behind her, my furry chest expanding and contracting as I caught my breath. The foliage had almost completely fallen away, and the ground beneath our paws was hard, smooth, weather-worn rock. The steep incline plateaued, and the lack of trees gave us a stunning, panoramic view.
We’d reached the top of the mountain.
Rowena resumed moving at a jog, and I followed her until we came to a secluded area beneath a cluster of short pine trees. She shifted, slipping out of her wolf form and back into her human skin, and took a seat on the hard stone.
She sat cross-legged, her black leggings tight against her calves as she smoothed down the bottom of her plum-purple dress. I shifted out of my wolf form and settled in next to her, stretchingmy legs so that the tips of my boots nearly touched the horizon. Our hips and thighs were pressed snugly against each other, and Rowena wrapped her arm around the back of my shoulders. I happily cuddled into her side, my head tucked beneath her chin.
“Isn’t this incredible?” Rowena asked, her fingers gently weaving through my long red hair.
“It is,” I replied in awe. “I’ve never been to the top of a mountain before. This is incredible. I had no idea the rest of the world looked sosmallfrom so high up.”
Rowena chuckled. “You’re so cute.”
I blushed, snuggling deeper into Rowena’s embrace. “Where are we anyway?”
“Cadillac Mountain, in Acadia National Park. Fifteen hundred feet up. It’s the tallest mountain on the Atlantic coast that borders the sea.”
“The Atlantic coast?”
“Yes. Maine is the northernmost state in the eastern half of the country. But there are forty-nine other states that make up the USA, many of which are a lot bigger than Maine.”
“Wow. The world truly is massive,” I sighed.
“On top of that, the United States is justonecountry. There are almost two hundred others, all crammed together on this gigantic planet. The world is so incredibly diverse and beautiful, even if we don’t always get along.”
“Wow. I remember–” I shifted my legs, tucking them beneath my body, “–when I first left Hollenboro, and saw a map of Maine in a classroom on a human island. Then I saw howtinyHollenboro was, and I was shocked. Then I learned how tinyMainewas, in the grand scheme of the world, and I couldn’t believe it. My whole life… just a single drop of water in the entire ocean.”
“Speaking of Hollenboro…” Rowena interjected, still stroking my red hair. “I can tell you wanted to leave so you could see therest of the world. But when you talk about fate… it makes it seem like there was another reason you fled. Was there?”
A deep unease settled in my gut as I sat upright. There was another reason, and I’d been shoving it out of my mind for weeks, refusing to dwell on it. As if not thinking about it would make it cease to exist.
“Yes,” I sighed. “I’d been sneaking away to human-populated islands for years, learning more about the outside world, and I’d always planned to slip away at some point. But there was an incident that made it much more urgent.”
“What was that?”
“Well, you know how werewolves are very traditional, placing family above all else? We settle down young, with mates our parents pick for us. And my father, at breakfast that day, told me he had chosen a young male for my bonding ceremony. He planned to announce the betrothal to all of Hollenboro that night.”
“Oh goddess. Did you not like him?”
“No, actually. I did. I’d been with him before, in– uh, never mind. His name is Cecil, and he’s the son of one of my father’s best friends. I wasn’t in love with him or anything, but we got along well, and my father was right – it was a good match.”
“But you weren’t ready, were you?”
