Page 14 of Claimed

CHAPTER 4

Anya

“Come on and get a drink with us, Anya!”

I’ve been in college for about three months, and my roommate, Annette, is trying to get me to come out again. I like her. She’s smart, she’s funny, and she’s cute. She’s got round glasses that are too big for her face, but everyone’s glasses are like that now. She looks innocent, but she really likes to drink, and more besides. Being around her feels like being part of the feral little pack I was part of out in the countryside. We’ve made friends with some of the other guys and girls in the dorms too.

I am trying very, very hard to stay out of trouble, but I’m still reeling from losing my mom. And, if I’m to be honest, I miss Alexei, too. He calls me every now and then, but I think he’s trying to give me my independence without checking in on me too closely. Every time I hear his voice, it’s like a unit of sexual sleeper cells come alive inside me. Drinking is a way to numb the feelings of both those problems, and I always feel a little better when I do it. I’m still not old enough to drink, but it’s notlike that matters. Every freshman drinks—except the ones who don’t, but they don’t count.

“Okay, twist my arm,” I say.

We go out up behind the science block, where a herd of cows live in a paddock. I like cows. They’re peaceful creatures, blessed with natural curiosity. They amble over toward us and lick their noses the same way small kids pick theirs while I and a small crowd of kids from the dorms mix up a potluck in a bucket.

Wine, spirits, liqueurs, they all go in, topped with a bottle of lemonade. The concoction gets stirred with a big wooden spoon.

A pack of red Solo cups is passed around. We each get a good dose of what Annette calls our ‘special brew.’ She insists she’s a witch, and she probably is. She’s got big, wide green eyes that always hold an ethereal expression of intensity, and pin-straight black hair.

Nathan, her boyfriend, is a jock, but a nice one. She leads him around by the nose, sometimes literally. They’re cool people, I guess. It’s not the same as being around other shifters, though.

The moon is close to full. I feel it pull through the clouds that go scudding through the sky as the night wind picks up.

I take a sip of my drink swirling in my cup, unnatural colors failing to entirely mix in with one another. It doesn’t taste good. It tastes like what they use to power spacecrafts. I don’t care. I don’t need to drink every bit of it, I just need enough to get a little bit of a buzz and forget about my worries.

I sit back against the science building and make eye contact with one of the cows. She’s a pretty brown Jersey with big, soulfulbrown eyes. The alcohol is burning down my throat and in the pit of my stomach, making me feel warm.

The others are talking about school, RAs, boyfriend-and-girlfriend drama. I don’t say much. I laugh sometimes, and I smirk and groan when necessary, but I don’t talk about myself that much. There’s not much I can share. I’ve lost my mom, and I’m secretly a werewolf betrothed to a Russian alpha. As much as I like joining in with these silly college activities, I’m not really a part of them.

I’m never going to be normal. Even if I weren’t a wolf, losing my mom was enough to make me feel weirdly separate from the world. It’s not the same without her. I can’t really enjoy anything the same way I used to. It’s like the part of me that used to trust everything would turn out alright has died and isn’t ever coming back.

I drink a little more and feel a little better. The sky is starting to clear. The clouds are heading for the horizon, and the moon is center stage. My eyes go skyward, and for a brief moment, I feel like I see my mother in the big gold glow. The drink must be hitting me harder than I thought.

She smiles down at me, and there’s something in the way the moonlight hits me that makes me feel as though I’m being enveloped in a warm hug. Maybe she’s not as far away as I imagined, but it’s still not the same.

“I miss you, Mom,” I say.

“What?”

“Hm? Sorry, I don’t know. I talk to myself sometimes,” I say, playing it off. I almost forgot the rest of them were here.

They giggle, because they think I’m drunk. Am I drunk? I might be. Doesn’t matter. I look back up at the moon and my mom is gone. That’s all I have now, fleeting flashes of memory that are already starting to fade. I’m going to lose her forever, because I’ve already lost her forever. There’s no way of stopping the forgetting from happening.

I drink a little more. Forget a little more.

The moon starts to feel like a magnet. I’m drawn to it. Can’t help it.

I know I can’t get closer to it by walking up there. Can’t climb into the air, but I can walk toward it. Everybody is distracted as I get up and wander off, locked in intense conversation about one of the lecturers who is apparently sleeping with the students.

I climb the cow fence and walk into the field. The cows move away from me respectfully, letting me pass without drama. I keep walking, following the moon, letting the warmth of the alcohol flow through me.

I told Alexei I wanted to go to college and study, and live the life Mom always wanted for me, but I don’t know if that’s what I really want anymore. Being in college, trying to fit in, trying to care about my studies—it all feels fake and pointless. I was never made for this world. I was made to run in a pack, and every hour of every day I don’t get to do that, I’m wasting time.

I wake up underneath a tree. Sunlight is hitting me right in the eyes. It’s early and I have a headache.

The grass around me is flat, and there’s fur in it, as if I wasn’t lying here alone last night. There’s a faint scent of wolf and family and home, but it’s being blown away by the morning breeze. Was someone else here? Or did I somehow shift without knowing it in my sleep? Am I getting so horny that my body thinks I’ve already been mated? No. Can’t be that. If it were that, my clothes would be in tatters.

“Mooeeeeh!”

The pretty cow with the brown eyes looks at me with a sort of mournful equanimity.

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