Page 21 of Runt of the Pack
Tomorrow, I will pick up my neglected brush and capture the vivid winter landscape outside our window that has been my longstanding inspiration. And when the time comes, I will slowly unravel the shrouded fibers of my history for Vlad too. But for now, I am content simply to stand at this extraordinary man’s side, all the lonely gaps inside me filled by his presence.
18
ANYA
A full moon hangs heavy in the star-strewn sky as I slip from the warm shelter of our bed, leaving Vlad sleeping peacefully under the covers. The cabin air chills my bare skin as I dress silently, but anticipation warms me from within.
Tonight, I’m drawn outside by the moon’s irresistible call, longing to shed my human form and revel purely in my wolfskin again. Ever since Vlad branded and claimed me as his fated mate, my inner creature stirs franticly, glorying in our completed bond. Under the moon’s glow, I can answer that primal urge to run wild and free.
I make my way down the snowy path away from the cabin, senses heightened. The wind gusts bitter against my cheeks, but I revel in its cold bite. The chill focuses me, gives me purpose. I walk for some time under the silent sentinels of the pines, letting their solemn strength realign my scattered thoughts.
I halt at the edge of the tree line, lifting my face to the moon’s hypnotic glow. Out here, away from Vlad and the heady spell of his presence, I can think clearly again. Yet even now, my traitorous heart whispers that I should turn back, take refuge in the shelter of his arms...
No. With an effort, I force my feet onward into the shadowed forest. What Vlad and I both need is some space and time alone under our mistress moon’s cool light. Time to remember ourselves, and why anything more between us can only lead to ruin when this snowbound dream ends.
The gods have cursed us with an unbreakable bond that defies all logic and reason. He is a wild, untamable creature, destined to wander freely while I am condemned to a life of constant fleeing. The demons from my past claw at my mind relentlessly, threatening to consume me. And yet, I persist in revealing my darkest secrets to Vlad, risking his rejection—a risk that tears at my heart, but one I must take for a chance at true love.
At last, I come to my favorite overlook, a snow-blanketed outcropping of rock jutting over the vast lake below. I settle atop the frigid stone, peering down at the ice gleaming silver under the moon. Solitude enfolds me in its comforting mantle once more.
I close my eyes, releasing the doubts and longings that cling so tenaciously back at the cabin. Out here, I need be nothing more than the wild creature who has always lived inside me, lurking beneath the facade I show the world. With Vlad, I want to be that hidden part of myself again—to run reckless and free, answerable only to the moon. But it cannot be.
Making my decision, I stand swiftly and begin shedding garments. Naked now, I tip back my head with eyes closed... and let go. Bones pop and stretch. Fur ripples up my limbs as four feet settle beneath me. The chill air caresses my wolfskin as I slowly open my eyes again. The world seems simpler through a wolf’s gaze.
I turn north, drawn by icy glitter. Padding up to the cliff’s edge, I gaze down at the moon’s reflection fracturing the frozen lake below. Its beauty pierces me with a familiar longing. Often, I’ve sat here, muzzle lifted in a mournful howl, serenading the lunar face I sense recognizes me even when no one else does. My confidante, my compass when lost.
Tonight, the urge rises again to sing to the moon my devotion. I fill my lungs, prepared to let loose the threads of my aching heart—when a resounding howl shatters the silence first. My voice dies in my throat.
I whirl, a snarl rumbling warningly—and freeze at the sight before me. A massive black wolf watches from the tree line, silver eyes lambent with lunar light. Vlad. Of course, he would feel the pull too, and follow my trail here.
Fur bristling warily, I stand immobilized by indecision. Vlad makes no move to approach, merely continues studying me with an inscrutable intensity that sees down to my soul. I should flee... but my paws root to the spot, caught in his burning stare.
Finally, Vlad stirs, dropping his head submissively. Still telegraphing no aggression, he creeps forward one careful step at a time. I hold tense, trembling with the urge to run for the sanctuary of the woods. But I cannot retreat from this encounter now that we have seen each other plainly at last.
Vlad’s rumbling whine shivers through me when only a few paces separate us. He circles, allowing me to take in the full magnificence of his wolf—thick obsidian fur rippling over powerful muscle, deadly fangs peeking past his lips. My white coat would appear diminutive and frail beside his imposing bulk.
Yet I sense no menace in the cautious way he carries himself. Only respect tinged by wonder colors his earthy scent. Still, I flinch when the cold tip of his nose brushes my shoulder in greeting.
At my skittish reaction, Vlad immediately withdraws, a small wounded noise escaping him. Shame flares within me. I should not fear the one who has shown me nothing but selfless kindness since I dragged his broken body in from the cold.
Steeling myself, I stretch out my neck tentatively and bump my muzzle against his in reciprocation. Vlad’s answering rumble vibrates through me, even as his body sags in relief.
We remain that way for some time, snuffling and familiarizing ourselves with each other’s lupine forms. My initial wariness fades, replaced by comfort in his steadfast presence. After so long bereft of companionship outside my own, discovering such easy acceptance is a balm to my guarded soul. For the first time since that night I found Vlad bloodied and unconscious in the snow, I feel wholly known. And still cared for.
I turn away, moving to the cliff’s edge overlooking the moonlit lake. Vlad hangs back respectfully until I glance over my shoulder and chuff in invitation. He settles beside me, so close our bodies press together for shared warmth. The intimacy no longer frightens me as it once did. We were meant to keep each other from the cold.
Together, we serenade the watching moon, our entwined voices soaring in glad chorus to the stars. I have not felt such joy since I was a young pup still surrounded by my pack, free from heartache or betrayal. This one perfect moment with Vlad feels like coming home.
I know not what the new dawn will bring when we awake as man and woman again. But under our lady moon’s glow, only this matters—the comfort of skin and fur pressed close, the harmony of our spirit voices uniting in the wilderness that raised us both. Here, now, we are kindred, and the rest can wait.
Eventually, we leave the moon’s majesty behind and lope side by side back through the silent woods. But the easy accord forged between us lingers on. I shall carry it like a talisman against darker days ahead when Vlad and I must part ways at long last. Even then, I will cherish knowing that for a fleeting while beneath the winter moon, we were two creatures remade whole together. And no power of this earth can diminish such memories.
19
ANYA
The biting wind howls outside the frosted windowpanes as I add the finishing touches to my latest landscape. Soft bristles glide over the textured canvas, bringing to life the vivid scene before me—snow-coated firs leaning heavily under the burden of ice, their branches etched in silvers and blues gleaming in the pale dawn light. This is the last piece I need to complete Yulia’s commission. It won’t take long for me to apply my signature in the bottom right corner. The collection will be ready then for installation in her latest hotel project.
I step back, rolling the tension from my shoulders. My empty mug sits cold on the work table, remnants of chamomile tea leaves stuck to the bottom. The clock on the wall reads half past ten. I must have lost track of time again, absorbed in capturing every nuance of the wintry landscape.
