Lone Wolf

Robert M. Kerns

Copyright © 2021 by Robert M. Kerns

Cover Copyright © 2021 Dolton Richards / Knightsfall Press

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means--electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise--without the prior written permission of the publisher and copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any place (terrestrial, exta-solar, extra-dimensional, or other) or person (human, Magi, shifter, fae, sapient undead, or other) is unintended and purely coincidental.

Published by Knightsfall Press

PO Box 280

Mineral Wells, WV 26150

About This Book

Karleen—the North American dire wolf—has held herself apart from shifter society.

This is the story of why.

1

“Karleen,” I heard my mother call, “it’s time for school.”

I scowled at the thought. I hated school. My brothers and sisters had all loved school; they had their friends and their clubs. They had their achievements. What did I have? A horde of school kids who loved to call me ‘human.’ When they felt really serious about it, they called me ‘stinky human.’ That might not seem so bad, but it was hardly original and such a tired refrain. Everything gets boring after nine years of it.

It was no fun at all being a born shifter who can’t find her animal; it’s even less fun to have a shifter scent no one—and I mean no one—can identify. Everyone agreed I should be a wolf shifter, since both of my parents were wolf shifters, but my scent didn’t match other wolf shifters, not even my family. My sister told me it was kind of wolf but not; I had to ask her since most shifters can’t detect their own scent. Even with our amazing senses, we’re nose-blind to ourselves… unless we go a long time between baths. But it’s the rare shifter who does that; no one likes to smell like stale, musty dog or cat or bird or whatever.

Not helping matters even more, I was a very ‘early bloomer.’ I was five weeks past my fifteenth birthday, and I already looked like I could pose for one of those pin-up magazines my brothers hid from Mom. So when the other girls didn’t feel like joining the crowd that called me human, they settled for an unsubtle jealous viciousness, calling me fat or talking about the “big girl.”

To top it all off, my own parents didn’t seem to be concerned about my apparent lack of an animal or my weird scent. Dad’s thought on the matter was little more than, “You were impatient to grow up, and now you’re impatient to shift. Relax, sweetheart; it’ll happen when it needs to happen.” And Mom—bless her soul—took her cue from Dad. Sure, they could have stressed me out even more if they acted differently, but to not care at all?

There were days I tolerated my life and others where I just hated it.

“Karleen! You’re going to be late!”

“That’s fine. I don’t want to go in the first place,” I muttered as I scooped my satchel of books onto my shoulder.

I rose from the edge of my bed and scowled at the feeling of the skirt swirling around my legs. I hated skirts and dresses, too, but Mom wouldn’t hear of me going anywhere other than our backyard in shorts. It just wasn’t done, you know; proper ladies wore skirts and dresses. I tried protesting and even showed her photos of the pants human women were wearing in fashion magazines, but Mom merely said we were not dirty hippies, end of story.

As I trudged to my bedroom door, my eyes landed on my calendar, and my scowl became epic. Today was the day for the annual Shifter Council’s Physical Fitness Exam in gym class, and once again, I would stand out for not participating… because I couldn’t find my animal. It didn’t make any sense. I was stronger and more dominant than anyone else in my family, even my parents. When we sparred in gym class? I fought the teacher to a draw anytime I felt like it; if he pissed me off, I beat his ass. I should have been able to find my animal without even trying.

I grinned in spite of myself as I stomped downstairs. Mom hated me using words Dad brought back from the war. Proper ladies did not say ‘pissed off’ or ‘beat his ass.’ The last time I slipped up, Dad just shrugged and said, “Well, she’s right. She can beat Jed’s ass.”

Mom waited at the foot of the stairs with my lunch bag. That was another major difference I’d noticed between our community and what I saw in magazines about the human world. Humans took their lunch to school in these dainty little paper bags that could barely hold a decent dessert. Shifters took their daily food to school in brown grocery bags we bought at the store if we ran out, the same large brown bags the stores used to pack up groceries for customers. It was nothing to see shifter students snacking during class, and some teachers even taught with a snack or food in their hand. We need to eat too much to do otherwise. The human ‘three squares a day’ are starvation rations for us.

I saw Dad sitting at the dining room table, lingering over his coffee and the paper. I smiled and went to him. I loved all my family, but Dad always made me feel better, even when he was being all ‘ehh… it’ll work out’ about my animal.

“Bye, Daddy,” I said, pulling him into a hug.

“Karleen,” Mom said, “you are fifteen. In the eyes of the shifter community, you’re an adult. You shouldn’t address your father as if you were still a child.”

Dad chuckled. “Oh, leave off, Mary. She has it hard enough, and besides, I like that she still calls me ‘daddy.’ It reminds me of when she was little.”

Mom glared at Dad for his betrayal for a few moments before she huffed and gave me a hug. “I’m just trying to help you be a proper young lady, Karleen. You won’t catch the best man if you’re some kind of wild woman, you know.”

“So you’ve said, Mom. I love you, too, but I’m close to being late.”

I dashed out the door as Mom’s words circled through my mind. Catch the best man? Ha! If the boys around town were typical of male shifters, I didn’t want to catch a man, best or otherwise. They were a pack of domineering, inconsiderate brutes… for the most part. And none of them liked that they couldn’t win a sparring match with me. I thought that fact—even more than not finding my animal—was the ultimate motivation behind their continued torture. I intimidated them.

I latched the gate of our picket fence and smiled as I looked up the street to the corner. Tommy Jacobs waited for me, like he always did. We had been friends since childhood, bonding over similar plights. Unlike me, Tommy could find his animal just fine, but that didn’t matter to anyone else. He suffered with a rare disease, known only to afflict shifters, that passed down through family lines. It weakened him to the point of being little stronger than a human, with no significant shifter healing to speak of, and his wolf looked like it had a permanent case of mange. When I did a little research at the public library, I learned that there were less than a thousand known cases across all the shifters of the world, and less than two hundred cases in the United States. The worst part of it was, he was a good and kind soul; he didn’t deserve how the other kids had treated him his whole life.

“Hey, Karleen,” Tommy said as I arrived, and I saw a blush color his cheeks as he glanced away. “You look very nice today.”

I beamed. “Thank you, Tommy; you’re very spiffy, yourself.”

Aside from my family, Tommy was my sole ray of happiness in an otherwise dreary, frustrating, and despised life. He never treated me like an outcast or freak. He was always kind to me. And the one thing I never told anyone else, not even my sister Nadine, was how he made me feel warm and loved and happy all over.

“How are you feeling today?” he asked as we fell into step side by side and started our daily trudge to school.

I caught him glancing my way with the same look in his eyes that I saw in Dad’s sometimes when he looked at Mom, and I fought with all my might to keep from letting him know I caught him. “I’m okay, but today will be especially awful.”

Deep concern dominated his expression as he asked, “Why? What’s wrong?”

“The Shifter Physical Fitness Exams. I wouldn’t care so much; it’s not like everyone at school only picks on me in gym, but Coach Thomas doesn’t even say a word. It’s like he ignores them to get back at me for kicking his ass in front of the whole class.”

Tommy grinned at my choice of words. He always did. “Yeah, he’s a little petty, and I feel for you. As much as they like to pick on me, at least I can still do all the shifter-specific stuff. I wish I could help.”

I bumped him with my shoulder as we walked. “You have no idea how much you do help me, Tommy Jacobs.”

As we turned the corner, the Arenbergs’ Rottweiler—Shep—came through their gate two houses down. The Arenbergs were the only non-shifter family in town; the husband and wife followed Dad home from the war, wanting to be close to the first Allied soldier they saw break through the gate of the camp that held them. Dad wrote the regional Council rep to get special permission to explain to Aaron and Naomi why the local schools refused to enroll their kids; he didn’t want them to think it was because they were Jews.

Their kids had it worse than me. After all, they had to travel to the next county over so they could attend a human school. Even a drop of sweat from a shifter could turn them in the proper circumstances, let alone shifter blood or saliva, and our gym classes made full-contact human sports look tame. They were also the only family in town with a pet, which didn’t endear them to a lot of the shifters.

Shep was a mean-tempered mutt on his best day, and he seemed to take a particular delight in harassing other kids around town… all except me. When Shep and I crossed paths, like today, he froze and whimpered once or twice, then rolled onto his back and bared his throat. Shep never barked at me, chased me, tried to bite me… none of that.

The poor dog acted terrified of me, which only served to confuse me more about my shifter status. Unlike most animals, what some shifters called the ‘lesser cousins,’ Shep had zero fear of shifters. He harassed all breeds of shifter with equal zeal… except me. What the hell was I that Shep almost peed himself in submission at the mere sight or scent of me?

“I still can’t believe he acts like that around you,” Tommy said after we passed the Arenberg house. “Any time I pass by there alone, he goes after me like I’m a chew toy. Just this past weekend, he chased me for two blocks on my bicycle.”

I smiled. “Maybe I should give you a token that you could carry with you, something Shep would identify with me.”

Tommy chuckled. “I can only imagine how Garth would react to seeing me with your handkerchief tied around my arm.”

I fought the urge to grind my teeth. Garth Westin was the captain of the junior varsity football team, and he was a Grade A, one-hundred percent pure sack of shit. Out of all the guys in school, he tormented me more than anyone else. Not content with all the other ways he had made my life hell over the years, five weeks before, the rabid mutt lit my hair on fire. He was out of school for three days healing the beating I gave him over that, even with shifter healing.

“I still wish you’d let me kick his ass for the way he treats you,” I growled. “I… you’re… you don’t deserve that.”

Tommy stopped and looked at me, a resigned smile on his face. “Okay, Karleen, I will, as long as you answer one question to my satisfaction.”

“Okay.”

“How would you beating Garth make things better for me? Garth and all his friends would just take it out on me when you’re not around, and you know that just as well as I do. Besides, I’m a shifter, too. Do you think I want you to fight my battles?”

I hung my head and slowly shook it to answer ‘no.’ “It’s just I know how much that kind of thing hurts, and I don’t like you getting hurt.”

We both knew he couldn’t defend himself, not against other shifters. It wasn’t fair, but dominance fights, the dynamics between dominant and non-dominant shifters, and physical displays of prowess and strength made up the foundation of shifter society, regardless of what breed you were. ‘Fair’ never entered into it. I hated that, too.

The worst part of it all was that, since Tommy had reached ‘sexual maturity’ like me, he was fair game for death fights. Children were not permitted to end a dominance fight in death, and the dividing line between ‘child’ and ‘adult’ in the shifter world was puberty. You were considered an adult once you could have children of your own.

“I’ll be okay, Karleen. I always am.”

We started up the steps of what would be my prison for the next eight hours, and a thick mass of dread formed in the pit of my stomach. As much as I wanted to believe Tommy, I knew it was only a matter of time before he wasn’t okay.

2

“Once more… deep, slow breaths. Close your eyes and put your full focus inward. Search your mind for the space that isn’t human.”

Beatrice Carrington was the school guidance counselor. Unlike a lot of shifters who didn’t look their age, Miss Carrington was in her mid-forties and had moved to town when our old guidance counselor decided to go on an extended trip back to the old country, which she apparently hadn’t visited for a few hundred years. Miss Carrington was from a shifter community up in Washington to our north, and while most guidance counselors worried about helping students find their after-school path, she fussed over how I couldn’t find my animal. To the point that she convinced—that is, browbeat—the principal into assigning me a whole period this year for her ministrations. The deal was that the period would become a study hall when—more like if—she helped me find my animal.

I didn’t even need a study hall; my grades were good… as good as I wanted them to be anyway. After all, my classmates hated me enough as it was; they didn’t need the additional ammunition of me hitting the principal’s list with a 4.0 every nine weeks.

My first deep, slow breath came out as more of an exasperated huff, but Miss Carrington either didn’t catch it or was too kind to call me on it. I tuned out the world around me much faster this time than I had in the past, and in no time at all, my world—my existence—was relegated to the nooks and crannies of my mind.

I have no idea how long I sat there, dead to the world for all appearances. It felt like hours, but we only had fifty-minute periods.

Then… out of nowhere… I felt something. A wispy presence lurking just out of reach. I tried to grab it, but it would have been easier to catch fog. I did get enough of a sense of it, though, to know one thing. I was definitely a wolf shifter, but I didn’t get enough of it to know what type. It was almost like the damned thing chose to elude me.

Just when I felt like giving into my frustration and running it down, I ‘saw’ a wolf—my wolf—trot out of the dark recesses of my mind and sit on its haunches in front of me, its tongue lolling out the right side of its muzzle in a canine grin.

I shouldn’t strain myself, a new voice—a growly voice I’d never heard before—whispered in my mind. I’m too young and not ready. Soon. Soon, my body will be grown enough—adult enough—to accept my heritage, but not yet. It’s time for gym class.

The wolf stood up and sauntered off, vanishing once more.

My eyes shot wide mere heartbeats before the bell rung, and I fought the urge to let my elation slip through my control. I was a wolf shifter, after all, and everything was going to be okay!

“So, still no luck?” Miss Carrington asked.

I glanced at the clock. I still had four minutes, even though I wouldn’t be participating in gym class all this week. Because of the stupid Shifter Physical Fitness Exam. But should I even tell her? What good would she do me? My wolf told me I’m not ready yet but would be soon. Did the counselor and her supposed support sessions matter anymore? She was really nice, though, and I didn’t have to worry about snide comments or being called ‘human’ while I was in her office. Fine. Dilemma solved.

“Yes, I saw my wolf.” Miss Carrington’s eyes shot wide. “I wasn’t imagining it, either. I heard a voice in my mind I’ve never heard before, saying I wasn’t ready yet to accept my heritage.”

“You… saw… your wolf in your mind?”

I nodded. “Yes. She was kind of there and kind of not there, like something between a shadow and a ghost now that I’m thinking about it, but I saw her. Can we talk more about it tomorrow? I don’t want to be late for gym, even if all I’ll be doing is sitting on the bleachers this week.”

“Oh! Uhm, right. Don’t be late for your next class.”

I dashed out of the counselor’s office and left Miss Carrington looking both confused and worried.

The gym was beyond my awareness as I went to the bleachers and sat. I was completely focused on the encounter with my wolf, especially how different it looked. My parents and siblings were all gray wolves—sometimes called timber wolves. My mom and middle brother were the black variant of the gray wolf, but structurally, they looked the same as the rest of my family. My wolf didn’t look like them. At least, it didn’t seem to look like them.

I hunched over and focused on my memory of the encounter. The mental image gave me no sense of pelt coloration, but my wolf’s muzzle and jaw seemed a little wider than those of my family. Still in proportion for a wolf, just… scaled up maybe?

“Whatcha doin’, human?” A sickly-sweet voice intruded upon my thoughts. “Praying for your animal?”

Patricia Welles stood no more than five feet away. She was the captain of the cheerleading squad and the girls’ combat team, which I couldn’t join because I couldn’t shift yet. Her parents came from old money back east. She wore the best clothes, and today’s ensemble looked like something from a major designer. She often traveled with a cadre of hangers-on who seemed to be little more than fops for the queen’s court.

“Get bent, Pat. I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Pat? Did you just call me Pat?” Her voice raced into the upper registers. “My name, you filthy creature, is Patricia. You will address me as Patricia. Do you understand me?”

As I looked up to face her, I noticed the entire class stared at us, including Coach Thomas. I didn’t want to be the center of everyone’s attention, but it wasn’t like this was a new experience.

“Or you’ll do what, exactly, Pat?” I pointed to Garth Westin standing at the center of a group of his greaser buddies. “I can kick your boyfriend’s ass anytime I feel like it, so you’re not even worth my time. Seriously, Pat, get bent. You have nothing for me.”

She pulled her lips back in a silent snarl, and I thought that she might finally be going for it. Setting aside all the snide comments and deciding at last to attack me. I found myself wondering if she’d go for my eyes or hair like a human girl, or if she’d go for my throat like a shifter.

“Patricia!” Coach Thomas’s voice cracked like a whip, and I sighed. No fight for me, then.

“Don’t be so confident, human,” Pat hissed as she pulled back. “I can always find you when there’s no one to protect you.”

I laughed and shook my head. She turned and stomped off to the girls’ locker room while I went back to contemplating my wolf. The more I thought about the whole exchange, especially in the wake of finding my wolf, the more I realized how petty and pointless all their tormenting was.

Tommy watched Patricia walk away from Karleen, and he wondered if anyone else realized how close the cheerleader came to having a fight she couldn’t win. He scoffed. Probably not the smartest thing to do, surrounded by people who hated him more than Karleen, but the whole situation struck him as enormously funny. Karleen won sparring matches with their teacher—many of them witnesses to it. She was faster and stronger than any other shifter he’d ever seen, and they still insisted on tormenting her. Why couldn’t they see they were kicking a badger?

As for his case, Tommy understood all too well. He truly could not fight them and win. He used to try. Now, he just kept his head down. He was tired of seeing the look on his mom’s face when he came home with bruises. His dad was better at hiding it than his mom, but he didn’t like it either.

“Okay, people, let’s get in line,” Coach Thomas called. “We start the Shifter Physical Fitness Exam today, and you should all know the drill by now since we do this every year.”

Tommy moved to join the group lining up along the gym floor. One of Garth’s people casually walked by at the same time and tripped him with an ankle across his shin. Tommy caught himself with his hands and didn’t fully hit the floor, but he’d had a lot of practice. Hallways and gym class… the preferred hunting grounds of the would-be alpha bullies. Few teachers watched the hallways, and in gym, the teacher almost egged the guys on.

That evening, I climbed the hill behind my house and marveled at my classmates’ dedication to tormenting me. Why did they persist? Were they trying to draw out my animal by stressing me? Or were they simply trying to make themselves feel better because they were so inadequate?

Either way, they were playing with fire. From everything I ever heard about first shifts, a shifter in the midst of it was in a very primal frame of mind, almost a fight-or-flight response like the humans have… and my choice has always been fight. I didn’t see how tormenting me into my first shift would work out well for them.

I took a deep breath and sighed as I walked out onto a cliff overlooking the town. This was one of my favorite places. The town looked so peaceful, so pleasant, from up here. Mom didn’t like that I happily packed a satchel most weekends and went off into the forest, leaving on a Friday and coming back sometime Sunday evening. We never talked about where I went. Or what I did. In many ways, it was probably the only reason I was still sane. The hills, the forest—all of Nature—was the only escape I had. I didn’t hate my life so much when I was out here.

A rustle in the underbrush a few feet behind me heralded the arrival of Buttercup. Mom would especially lose her mind if she knew about him; he was one of the local black bears. Except he wasn’t black. I called him Buttercup because of his blonde coloring, and he was the only animal I had ever encountered that didn’t bare its throat the moment it saw me or caught my scent. After all, friends don’t do that kind of thing.

I had known Buttercup since he was a cub. I found him all alone on one of my weekend rambles when I was eleven. He was crying something fierce, and there was no sign of his momma. I didn’t know if he was old enough to eat solid food, so I went back to town and bought a baby bottle and some milk. I was going to heat it up for him, but he wasn’t too interested in waiting. Weaning him off that bottle—when the time came—was a nightmare, too.

Buttercup made his den in a cave not far from my favorite cliff overlook, and I always visited him each day after school. I’d often spent whole weekends with him. Every time I went to his cave, I couldn’t help but remember the day I arrived just as an older and far more massive bear was challenging him for his cave. The moment the wind shifted and carried my scent to the two bears, the old meanie fled, and as far as I knew, he hadn’t been back.

My furry buddy grunted his greeting as he sat down beside me, and I pulled him into a tight hug. He let me hug him for quite a while before he chuffed his annoyance, and I let go. Then, I simply leaned against him, and we watched the sunset.

3

Beatrice Carrington stood in the hallway outside the school’s front office. The sun barely peeked over the horizon. In all her years, she never felt like she was dithering about something, but there was no other term for her state of mind. That wasn’t quite true. Indecision. Doubtful. Hesitant. Uncertain. All words that meant the same thing.

The root of the problem was Karleen Vesper. If the girl was to be believed, she saw her wolf in her mind yesterday. Beatrice had never heard of anything like that ever happening with a shifter. She certainly had never seen her wolf, even though her animal side offered its own thoughts from time to time, but that was more like her own thoughts with a slightly different voice. The way Karleen talked, it was almost like her wolf was somehow separate from her right now, and Beatrice had never heard of that being possible.

She wanted to discuss the matter with Principal Jefferds. Lyle Jefferds was ancient to the point that no one at the school seemed to know just how old he really was. He’d been principal of the school since it opened—and a teacher when needed—and he ran a tight ship. He came early and left within minutes of the end-of-day bell, which was why Beatrice stood in the hall outside the school’s office. She’d missed him yesterday.

The crux of the issue was that she needed guidance. All of her literature and experience with shifters said what Karleen described just did not happen. Either the girl was lying—and Beatrice never liked taking the easy route unless it was the only option—or there was more to shifters’ existence than was common knowledge. The major questions—aside from whether to speak with Mr. Jefferds in the first place—were (a) whether he would write the issue off as Karleen lying and (b) whether he would tell her what he knew if he didn’t.

Beatrice glanced at the clock in the hall and groaned. The first buses would be arriving in thirty minutes. She gave a faint growl at Father Time forcing her hand, then spun and opened the door. The receptionist offered her a happy ‘good morning’ smile as she entered, and Beatrice pointed to Mr. Jefferds’s office door, which was closed.

“Is he in?” she asked.

Molly nodded twice. “Oh, yes. He’s here before us every day, like clockwork. I’ve never even known him to take a day off.”

Beatrice nodded and approached the door. She lifted her hand and knocked loud enough for a human to hear.

“Enter!” Mr. Jefferds’s gruff voice shouted from behind the door.

Beatrice turned the doorknob and stepped inside. Mr. Jefferds ran as tight a ship for his office as he did for the school in general. One neat bookshelf contained works on theories of education, human and child psychology, and other such subjects appropriate for the setting. The top of his desk boasted a blotter, pen stand, and telephone. Two simple wooden chairs for guests. A window with blinds but no curtains. No personal artifacts of any kind.

“How can I help you, Miss Carrington?”

“I—” Her will faltered. Mr. Jefferds intimidated her; he always intimidated her. She squared her mental shoulders and forced herself to continue. “I need guidance, sir. Karleen Vesper told me something I’ve never heard of before, and while I don’t want to say she’s lying, it’s almost too outlandish to believe.”

“Sit,” Mr. Jefferds offered, gesturing to the chairs in front of Beatrice. As soon as she did so, he said, “Tell me.”

“We’ve been working through guided meditation, trying to find her animal. Yesterday, right as the bell rang, she told me she saw her wolf… in her mind. And… her wolf… she said it spoke to her.”

Of all the reactions she pictured, a non-committal grunt wasn’t one of them. “Spoke to her, you say…”

“Yes, sir.”

“And she’s stronger and more resilient than her classmates…” Mr. Jefferds didn’t inflect that like a question, more like a vocalization of a thought. “Which period does she come to you?”

“Fifth, sir,” Beatrice answered. “Right after lunch.”

“Bring her to me. Immediately. Don’t even let her sit down in your office.”

Beatrice fought to maintain a non-expression, but she felt certain her heart rate betrayed her nerves. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“Is there anything else?”

“No, sir.”

Mr. Jefferds nodded her dismissal, and Beatrice stood. Her hand just touched the doorknob when he said, “She’s the one everyone torments for not having an animal?”

Beatrice turned and nodded.

“Those damn fools,” Mr. Jefferds muttered, right on the cusp of being too low for shifter hearing.

It sounded far, far too close to something he read by an academic years ago. Something about ‘modern’ shifters not being the first shifters to walk the earth. What was his name? Cooper! Malcolm Cooper and his ridiculous ‘Primogenitor Hypothesis.” He was the oddball brother of Alistair Cooper, a guy he’d met in Europe during the war. This Vesper girl was already stronger than other shifters in her human form, and it only made sense that the proportion would carry over to her animal form as well.

He had to handle this very carefully. If he called her to the office right away and it turned out to be nothing, he stoked the flames of her torment higher. But if there was something to the crackpot’s thesis, she might kill whoever was responsible for pushing her across the line and into her first shift. No. As much as he wanted Miss Carrington to bring the girl straight to his office the moment she set foot in the school, it was better to keep things relaxed and calm for now.

In his normal volume, he said, “Not that I think otherwise, Miss Carrington, but it is vitally important that you go over and above in your efforts to make absolutely certain Miss Vesper does not feel threatened in any way when you bring her to me. Do you understand?”

Beatrice jerked a nervous nod as she swallowed hard. “Y- yes, sir.”

Mr. Jefferds gestured for her to resume her exit as he withdrew a small notebook from a desk drawer and reached for the telephone. As she closed the door, Beatrice heard him say, “Operator? Oh… hi, Sally. It’s Jefferds at the high school. I need Malcolm Cooper in Boston, Massachusetts, please. This is a priority call.”

Beatrice stopped at the reception desk. “Molly, Mr. Jefferds asked me to bring Karleen to him during fifth period. He wanted to speak with her about our efforts to find her animal.”

“Yes, of course,” Molly replied as she checked his schedule. “The poor dear… I can’t imagine not being able to find my cat. Mr. Jefferds is free during fifth period, and I’ll make a note here to keep the time open.”

Beatrice smiled. “Thank you, Molly.”

The day hadn’t been too bad so far. The walk to school with Tommy was nice, even if he did seem a little distracted the whole time. Both the greasers and the cheerleaders largely left me alone that morning, and it honestly had me wondering if it was the calm before the storm.

Students of all grades filled the hallways, and Tommy and I continued a conversation we started over lunch. Tommy still seemed preoccupied, though, which wasn’t like him.

“Are you okay?” I asked, finally too concerned to keep my peace. “Is everything okay at home? You’ve been distracted or preoccupied all day.”

I heard Tommy’s heart rate kick up as his ears and cheeks flushed. He said, “Oh, everything’s fine at home. I... well… Homecoming’s next month, and I know you don’t usually go to the dance, but if you’d like to… well… do you want to go with me?”

I froze in the middle of the hallway, mid-step. I couldn’t believe my ears… or how warm, happy, and excited his question made me. “What?”

Tommy looked away. “I know. Dumb question, right? You never do anything like that. Sorry.”

“No, no. Don’t be sorry, please. You just surprised me. I’d love to go to Homecoming with you.”

Tommy jerked his head around in happy excitement. “You would? You really would?”

I giggled, and I should have hated myself for it. I never giggled. But the feeling of wanting to giggle happily over the situation didn’t leave. “Of course, I would.”

Tommy beamed.

I don’t know how long we stood there in the middle of the hallway, solely focused on each other. It was kinda weird, because I never let my guard down like that at school. I just didn’t; it wasn’t safe. Slowly, I became aware of a growing space around us, and I looked around to see why just as Garth and his crew stopped in front of us.

“Hey, human,” Garth said. “Jeff doesn’t have a date for Homecoming this year, since Susan and her folks moved away. You’re going with him. You’ll make sure he has a good time.”

“Excuse me? Exactly what part of our interactions has given you even a faint thought that I’d spend time with any of you rabid mutts? Get bent, Garth. Jeff can go chase cars like the rest of the lesser cousins.” Then, instead of keeping my mouth shut about it, I prattled on like some brainless twit. “Besides, you’re too late. Tommy already asked me, and I’m going with him.”

Garth’s eyes flicked to Tommy and back to me as we stood in silence. In fact, the entire hallway was silent now. “Well,” Garth said, “that’s easily handled. Tommy, I challenge you.”

The hallway itself seemed to gasp.

“What?” I nearly shouted. “You think if you beat him bloody again, I’ll fall in line like some good little woman? Are you stupid, Garth? Is that it? Are you incapable of learning? If you weren’t such a coward, you’d challenge me.”

Of course, I knew he wouldn’t. Not after that beating I gave him over setting my hair on fire. But I didn’t know any other way to save Tommy from yet another beating. By now, a couple teachers stood in the hallway, and my eyes settled on Coach Thomas.

“Are you just going to stand there and allow this? I thought teachers were supposed to protect students.”

Coach Thomas shrugged. “It’s our way, girl. Any one of us can challenge any other whenever we choose. Don’t like it? Don’t be a shifter.”

And then it hit me. This challenge could end in more than just a beating. Garth and Tommy were technically adults.

For the first time in my life, I felt my rage. Anger was an old friend. Never did a day go by that I wasn’t angry about something, but this was the first time I felt the fires of true, honest rage. I wondered what changed in my expression, because Coach Thomas paled as he looked at me.

“Tommy…” But I was too late.

By the time I turned back to the confrontation, Tommy said, “I accept.”

Garth didn’t even give anyone time to clear a space. He lunged at Tommy and delivered a powerful haymaker that sent my friend reeling. Garth followed as Tommy staggered into a bank of lockers and proceeded to pummel him as if to drive him through the metal doors.

Tommy never stood a chance. He didn’t have shifter healing. Well, he did, but it was minuscule compared to the rest of us. And he didn’t have the enhanced senses or physical attributes, either… like strength. Garth might not have even felt the one good punch Tommy gave the greaser’s stomach.

Garth led Tommy back into the center of the hallway as he dodged Tommy’s feeble attempts at offense, and when he was right where Garth wanted him, the greaser caught Tommy’s wrist during a swing and snapped Tommy’s arm. Tommy screamed and collapsed to his knees. Garth grasped Tommy’s head, and somehow, I knew what came next.

Garth started a savage twist just as Mr. Jefferds pushed his way through the crowd, shouting, “Garth, stop!”

But the principal was too late. The ghastly crack of Garth snapping Tommy’s neck echoed throughout the hallway, and in that instant, rage unlike anything I’d ever felt before exploded through me.

4

Lyle Jefferds had first encountered Malcolm Cooper at an education conference many years ago, and he knew Malcom’s brother Alistair. Jefferds and Alistair were part of the same shifter unit in Europe during the war. His conversation with Miss Carrington that morning teased a thought at the back of his mind about Malcolm’s ‘Magnum Opus’ he’d gone on and on about at the conference.

He leaned back in his chair while he considered the notepad in his hands. It held the notes of his conversation with the shifter historian earlier that morning. The information was worrisome, especially the last word underlined several times for emphasis.

Malcolm tended to dance on the knife edge between acceptance and ostracism, and it was his Primogenitor Hypothesis that garnered him the most derision. Malcolm espoused that the ‘modern’ shifter was a less-powerful, diluted strain compared to the shifters of extreme antiquity or even pre-history. The shifter world at large, of course, did not like this notion and resisted Malcolm’s efforts to bring any of his research to the public forum.

These ‘primogenitors,’ as he called them, matched the animals of their time in form and power and viciousness if provoked. His arguments and evidence were compelling but, ultimately, almost unprovable. But if he was right? If the shifters of deep antiquity did have animal forms that matched the predators of the time?

Malcolm’s primary source was a manuscript he found in his travels through Europe. The manuscript was written in vernacular Latin, and in it, the author described his struggles in the shifter society of the time and—far more importantly—his struggles and journey to find his animal. In his case, it was a cat.

During their conversation, Malcolm discussed the author’s recording of his experiences, and Jefferds marveled at how closely it mirrored what Miss Carrington told him of her conversation with Miss Vesper. In fact, it was almost too similar to ignore. Was Karleen Vesper one of these ‘primogenitors’ Malcolm insisted were their shifter ancestors? And if she was, what did that mean?

The possibility unsettled him, especially given Miss Vesper’s treatment at the hands of her classmates.

His door flew open, and Molly leaned inside. “Mr. Jefferds, come quick!”

Molly never overreacted, so Jefferds was out of his chair like a shot. He dashed into the hallway and saw the cluster of people at once. Putting aside all thoughts of dignity, he charged down the hallway at a dead sprint and crashed into the fringe of the crowd like a professional linebacker.

His progress slowed as he pushed his way through the crowd, and he arrived at the actual scene just in time to see Garth Westin grasp Tommy Jacobs’s head.

“Garth, stop!”

Garth gave no reaction that he heard or cared about Jefferds’s shouted order, and the ghastly sound of a snapping neck echoed throughout the hall. Jefferds watched Tommy’s limp body collapse to the floor as Garth lifted his arms and cheered his victory.

An explosion of fabric and other materials heralded Karleen’s first shift, and for the first time in many, many decades, Jefferds felt true fear. A massive wolf stood amid the remains of Karleen Vesper’s clothing. Karleen in her wolf form stood as tall at the shoulder as Jefferds’s waist. Her coarse, bushy coat was a mottled black and gray, and a spiky ridge of wiry fur ran along Karleen’s spine halfway to her hips.

She made even the largest ‘normal’ wolf look like a pup, and she snarled and growled at Garth.

Before anyone could break out of the shock, Karleen lunged into a leap. Her forepaws struck Garth’s shoulders, and she rode him to the tiled floor. By the time Garth’s back struck the floor’s tiles, Karleen’s jaws surrounded his throat, and she used his sudden stop to complete the motion of ripping out his throat.

She lifted her head, blood running down her jaw from the viscera she still held between her teeth, and focused on the rest of Garth’s greasers. She growled. Each and every one of Garth’s cronies—all five of them—pissed themselves on the spot. None of them ran, and the bravest of them bared their necks in total submission. That may have been the only thing that saved their lives.

Karleen spat the remains of Garth’s throat onto his corpse and turned. She looked past Jefferds, and Jefferds scented urine just in time to see Jed Thomas pivot and push through the crowd of students, breaking into a full sprint once he was free. The muscles around Karleen’s shoulders bunched, and the crowd hurried to part, having no doubts at all about what came next. Or so they thought.

Karleen surprised them all by hunching, then flowing up as she lifted her bloody muzzle toward the sky. She howled. And it wasn’t the mournful howl of loss. It was the call to hunt, and she flooded the hall in alpha dominance. Seven in the crowd shifted on the spot, unable to control themselves and shredding their clothes in the process; two of them were teachers. Jefferds felt the call to shift himself, but he was old enough and experienced enough that he resisted. He watched in silence as Karleen lunged into a sprint, and the six wolves and one cougar leapt to follow.

Jefferds turned to watch them and saw Karleen slow at the first intersection. She lowered her nose to the tile and padded around the area. All at once, her head lifted, and she pivoted toward the main doors of the school. She howled again and lunged back into a run. Moments later, Jefferds heard breaking glass.

I ran full out and luxuriated in the sensation of the wind in my fur. There. Up ahead. Jed Thomas ran as hard and as fast as his human form would carry him some thirty yards ahead of me. The light breeze carried wisps of scent as he tried to flee his fate, but I was faster. He should’ve stopped the fight. He should’ve reined in Garth and his bullying. No more. His life was over.

I leaped onto the hood of a nearby car, then the roof, and howled Thomas’s fate to the sky. And my hunting pack stopped to join in my howl. That was new, too. I called a hunt, and a pack came. Only an alpha shifter could call a hunt.

The pack took off again as I leapt off the car and took the lead. Pausing for a howl let Thomas gain some yardage, but his fate was ordained in my mind. The only question was how long I let him run.

The end was so anticlimactic. Thomas made the stupid choice to look back and check how close I was. He caught his toe on a square of uneven concrete. He was moving so fast that he couldn’t correct in time and slammed forward into the ground, sliding a few feet from sheer momentum. By the time he positioned his arms to push himself up, I was on him, my jaws clamped around his neck. One savage twist, and a ghastly crack sounded that mirrored Tommy’s demise. My hunting pack skidded to a stop around me as I lifted my muzzle once more and howled my triumph.

I need to finish him, my wolf commented as the howl faded from my throat. He can heal a broken neck.

Well, we couldn’t have that. I stepped off him, and my pack helped me roll him over. Then, fresh blood coated my muzzle once more as I ripped out Jed Thomas’s throat.

There, I thought. He can’t heal that.

No, he cannot. My wolf sounded satisfied, almost pleased. One so derelict should not be entrusted with the welfare of pups. His death is just.

I turned and headed back to school. I wanted to say goodbye to Tommy before anyone took him away.

Mr. Jefferds and Miss Carrington stood near Tommy’s body when I turned the corner of the hallway, still in my wolf form. The rest of the students were gone. Garth’s bloody corpse lay where I’d left him.

I suppose I could’ve gone to the locker room and pulled on my gym clothes, but that idea didn’t feel appropriate. The thought of shifting back to human brought with it an instinctual awareness of how to do so, which struck me as odd. Turned shifters had to be taught how shift. Perhaps this was a benefit of being born a shifter?

The conversation between Jefferds and Carrington faded as I approached, but I didn’t care. Tommy was my friend, and I would not leave him alone. Not yet.

I padded softly to his side, the clicking of my claws on the tile the only sound of my passage. I stopped and looked down at him. Someone had closed his eyes and arranged him in a peaceful repose while I was gone. Aside from Buttercup, he was my only friend. The only person outside of my family who ever showed me any kindness. I leaned down and brushed his cheek with mine, and even through my fur, I felt that he was already cool. Not cold yet, but cooler than he should’ve been.

A fierce ache erupted through my heart, and I wanted to cry. I wanted to cry like I’d never cried before. I lifted my muzzle once more and howled my loss and anguish to the sky. Then, I laid beside my dear friend and wrapped my tail around me as I waited in silent vigil for those who would help him make his final journey.

I had no idea how long we laid there, Tommy and me, before the arrival of new scents drew my attention. Two orderlies stood near Mr. Jefferds and Miss Carrington. They wore white uniforms with “Coroner’s Office” embroidered over the shirt pockets and carried a white cloth or canvas stretcher between them. A second pair with another stretcher followed close behind.

The first pair moved toward Garth. I stood and growled. That trash would not leave the school before my friend. Absolutely not. I padded over and stood in front of Garth’s corpse, snarling at the orderlies. I nodded toward Tommy.

“I think she wants you to take Mr. Jacobs first,” Mr. Jefferds said, and I bobbed my head in a nod. The first pair of orderlies moved to Tommy, and Jefferds held up his hand, stopping them. “Unless you’re hardier souls than I suspect, I recommend you treat Mr. Jacobs with the utmost respect. The gym teacher, Jed Thomas, has already paid the ultimate price for allowing this tragedy to happen.”

I watched the orderlies for any sign of disrespect, but they gave none. When they lifted the stretcher to take my friend from the school, I moved to go with them, trotting alongside as they carried Tommy to a van outside. I stopped a few feet from the open doors and watched them slide Tommy’s stretcher into the van. For a moment, I almost hopped inside with him.

The second pair of orderlies arrived with Garth, and when they started to load him into the same van, I stepped in the way and growled.

All four orderlies glanced to one another, and one of the two who had carried Tommy said, “Uhm… we only brought the one van. I promise you we’ll take Mr. Jacobs first, but the other van is… well… picking up Jed Thomas.”

That made sense. Having two coroner vans in a town as small as ours was almost obscene for the expense, especially considering that shifters didn’t die that often. I stopped growling and nodded, moving aside. I wasn’t about to ride with Garth, so I headed into the school.

I found Mr. Jefferds himself mopping the hallway floor. I appreciated the kindness. The school’s janitor had joined in my torment from time to time, and at that moment, I felt at least partially disposed to biting him a couple times. Not killing him, of course. None of his actions rose to the level that warranted death, but if I laid eyes on him in my frame of mind, it would be very difficult to resist ripping out an Achilles tendon. Possibly going for a hamstring. One of the two.

“Ah, there you are, Miss Vesper,” Jefferds remarked as I arrived. “Would you like to shift back in the locker room?”

I shook my head. If I shifted back to my human form, I’d lose what little buffer I had against the anguish and sorrow that tore at my soul; I knew I would curl into a ball and cry, right there on the hallway floor.

Jefferds nodded. “I understand. Well, I’m afraid your clothes are a total loss, but your shoes survived. I’ve placed them over there in the corner with your satchel.” Miss Carrington arrived just then, and Mr. Jefferds nodded to her while he mopped. “If you’d like, you can go with Miss Carrington to the faculty lounge. She can use the bathroom there to wash the blood from your muzzle. You don’t want to let that dry and set in; it’s a nightmare to wash out once it does.”

I nodded and looked up to Miss Carrington. She turned back toward the way she had come, saying, “This way.”

I turned and padded along at Miss Carrington’s side as she led me to the teachers’ lounge. My shoulders would’ve been taller than her waist if she weren’t wearing two-inch heels. The lounge was a simple space with tables and chairs and two doors on one side of the room, one labeled ‘Women’ and the other ‘Men.’ Miss Carrington stopped to collect a couple of clean rags and led me to the women’s restroom.

It took work and a lot of water, but Miss Carrington finally washed all the blood out of the fur on my muzzle. She used the second rag to dry off the excess water and opened the door just enough for me to nudge the rest of the way. When the door swung open, I froze at the sight of my dad standing beside Mr. Jefferds and holding my satchel, and I immediately recognized his scent on the air.

Why hadn’t I scented him in the restroom? I would have thought I could have scented him through the door. Regardless, I gave a little whine—more of a puppy whine, really—and ran to his side, pressing myself against him.

“She’s the first of her kind in modern times,” Mr. Jefferds said, and I looked up to see Dad regarding me with shock and confusion. There was no chance anyone would mistake me for a type of gray wolf.

Mr. Jefferds continued, “There’s a shifter historian back east by the name of Malcolm Cooper. He uses the term ‘primogenitor’ to describe shifters whose animals more closely match those of our distant past. I haven’t had the chance to do any extensive research, but when I look at Miss Vesper, the only name that comes to mind is ‘dire wolf.’”

Dad knelt and surrendered my satchel to the floor and wrapped his arms around my neck. “I’m so sorry you found your wolf in such tragedy, sweetheart. I’m very sorry for your loss. Tommy was a good kid.”

I whined my agreement as I leaned into his hug.

After several moments, Dad pulled back and looked me in my eyes. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go home.”

5

I rode in the back seat of the family car, and I filled it. My nose almost touched the rear driver’s side door, and my tail and hips brushed the rear passenger door. When I curled up and wrapped my tail around me, I had six inches of total clearance.

The trip seemed to pass in the blink of an eye, and Dad opened the door to let me out. It felt good to be home. The home where my family loved me regardless of whether I had found my animal. Dad retrieved my shoes and satchel from the passenger seat, and I padded along at his side as we went to the house. He opened the door for me, and as soon as my nose crossed the threshold, I scented my whole family.

Mom came out of the kitchen in a rush but froze at the sight of me. She gaped at me and looked to Dad and back to me. Then, she was at my side, her arms wrapped around my furry neck.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” she whispered as she hugged me. “I’m so sorry about Tommy. But you make a beautiful wolf.”

Of course I do, my wolf remarked.

My brothers and sister came out of the den, and they too froze at the sight of me. They looked to Dad almost as one, and he whispered, “We’ll talk about it.”

Mom released her hug, and while I was hungry, I didn’t feel like eating. Instead, I turned to the staircase and climbed up to my room. I nudged the door closed with my tail and went straight to my bed. I tried not to damage the linens as I climbed into it, then curled up and put my muzzle on my paws and wrapped my tail around me.

I think three days passed with me just laying on my bed in my wolf form. The only times I shifted were for the bathroom. Mom brought me food and tried to get me to eat. I ate some. Rarely all. Sometimes, Mom or my sister would sit with me. It kind of helped but I still wanted to howl my sorrow to the world.

Mom knocked and entered my room. She carried a garment box to my dresser and opened it, laying out black slacks, a black blouse, black stockings, black undergarments, and black dress shoes. I watched her; I’m sure my expression mirrored my confusion.

Mom turned and regarded me for a moment before saying, “Tommy’s funeral is today. Do you want to wear your fur?”

I shook my head and hopped down from the bed. I stopped and looked at my bathrobe hanging on the closet door, trying to figure out how I’d take it with me without dragging it along the floor. Mom came to my rescue.

“I’ll hang it inside the bathroom once you’re in the bath.”

I nodded my agreement and padded through the door. I found Nadine in the bathroom, finishing her preparations for the funeral, and she didn’t notice me until I touched my nose to the bend of her knee. Nadine gasped and spun, then she saw me with my tongue lolling out in a canine grin, and her fire evaporated.

“Feeling better, sis?”

I did my best to shrug. It didn’t come out quite right, but Nadine understood.

“I know. Well, I’m pretty much finished here. The bathroom’s all yours.”

Nadine accepted my bathrobe from Mom and hung it inside as she left. I nosed the door closed and shifted back to human. Tommy’s loss still hurt more in my human form than it did when I was my wolf, but my grief didn’t have the vicious, sharp edges of even the day before.

As the tub filled, I smiled as I thought about running into Nadine. My brothers were all older, and while we knew each other, we didn’t have the relationship that Nadine and I had. They were all basically a year apart, and then… me. I didn’t arrive until after Dad came back from the war in Europe.

I finished my bath and shrugged into my robe after drying off. I tried not to notice myself as I did my hair. The reflection in the mirror was an emaciated shadow of the young woman who left for school four days ago. This wasn’t healthy, especially for a shifter, and I knew I’d have to start eating more again.

The funeral was lovely. The minister was very kind and recalled all of Tommy’s best qualities. I couldn’t face his parents without crying and feeling guilt that I hadn’t stopped the challenge, but they swore they didn’t hold me responsible.

At least the crowd from school had the good sense not to attend, outside of Mr. Jefferds, Miss Carrington, and a couple teachers. I couldn’t think of any student I knew by sight who hadn’t joined in Tommy’s torment in some way.

I stood at Tommy’s grave until long past everyone else had left, even his parents, and I didn’t process the passage of time until Dad arrived at my side.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but we need to go. Alpha Carl has called a town meeting to discuss the incident. He specifically told me he wanted you there.”

I growled, but there was no heart in it. “Alpha Carl can get bent, but I don’t feel like walking home in these shoes. They’re nice, and I like them, but they’re not long-distance shoes.”

Dad chuckled. “No, I suppose not. My dress shoes aren’t either, if it’s any consolation.”

We walked back to the car where Mom and Nadine waited. My brothers all had their own places, jobs, and cars by now and already left the cemetery at some point. Dad opened Mom’s door for her as I walked around the car to sit behind Dad.

We rode in silence as Dad drove us to the town hall, and one of Alpha Carl’s betas ushered us to seats very near the front row. I wasn’t sure I liked that, but I wasn’t going to make a fuss over it. I just wanted to go home and visit Buttercup.

Once we took our seats, Alpha Carl stood, and the room quieted.

“Thank you,” Alpha Carl said, “We are here today to discuss our recent tragedy. The town council and I have discussed the matter, and we have decided that the challenge between Garth Westin and Thomas Jacobs was valid and—”

Before he could say another word, I was on my feet and fighting my rage. “You and your precious council are full of shit, Carl. Everyone in this town knew—knew—Tommy was nowhere close to being a strong shifter. Not even a normal shifter. He was barely stronger than a human, and his healing ability was no better than a human’s, either. His death was murder by challenge, pure and simple, and I for one will not sit here and let you whitewash the conduct of the rabid mutt that killed him.”

“Miss Vesper,” Alpha Carl replied, “you’re out of order. The public comment period on this decision has passed. You will sit and be silent.”

I felt my eyes shift to wolf, and I knew I was mere heartbeats from shredding these fine clothes my parents bought me. I fought to calm down, but that didn’t stop me from glaring at Alpha Carl. “Make me.”

The entire hall fell silent, and I realized I had just challenged the only Alpha I’d ever known. Then, I realized I didn’t care. He was wrong. His decision was wrong. I was not about to let it stand.

Carl’s eyes flicked to his betas and enforcers—twelve shifters, all told—and not one of them wanted to confront me. It was plain as day in their expressions and postures.

Alpha Carl sighed. “Karleen, the laws and traditions we have held sacred as far back as our records go don’t make a distinction between strong shifters or weak shifters. There are merely shifters. As such, we have no grounds to invalidate Garth’s challenge; by our laws and traditions, it was perfectly valid. Yes, I personally consider Garth’s choice of death for Tommy to be rather reprehensible, but there again, our laws and traditions make no distinction. In a challenge between adults, the fate of the loser is at the victor’s discretion. Granted, most shifters choose to kill their opponents, simply to remove potential threats down the road, but Tommy was never a threat. We all knew that. But again, I have to abide by the laws and traditions.”

“Then, the laws and traditions are wrong,” I shot back, feeling my wolf very close to my skin, “and you should’ve had enough of a spine to set a new precedent.”

Alpha Carl sighed once more. “So, do you want my job?”

That kind of hit me. I mean, I understood a change in leadership was usually the end-result of a challenge, but was that what I wanted? I was only fifteen years old; what did I know about leadership?

I scanned the faces around me, and I could see none of them wanted a fight. They knew how it would end. I also saw no trace of guilt or shame, and I knew no one else spoke up for Tommy. Laws and traditions. Was that really all shifter society was? Blind obedience to a bunch of moth-eaten texts that had not evolved with the times?

In that moment, I knew my path. To hell with the shifters. All of them. I’d make my own way in the world, and heaven help anyone who hunted me.

“No, Carl… I don’t want your job,” the entire assembly seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, “but I don’t want your damned laws and traditions, either. To hell with them, and to hell with all of you. I want no part of any society that would remember such as Garth Westin with honor. I’ll make my own way in the world.”

I pushed my way to the end of my row, then stopped and looked back at my family from the center aisle. Mom stared at me in utter shock, but Dad looked at me with that small smile of his that said how proud he was of me without using words. I brought my focus back to Alpha Carl, but I spoke to the whole town. “And I tell you now. Leave my family out of this. If any of you disturb so much as one hair on their heads, I’ll end you all. I’ll end the whole damned town if that’s what it takes.”

I pivoted on my heel and marched out of the hall.

My feet ached by the time I walked through the front door of my family’s home, and I went straight to my room. I stripped out of the nice, formal clothes and folded them. I laid them out on my bed with the shoes on the floor. Then, I pulled on a set of the clothes I wore to go visit Buttercup and stuffed still more into my hiking satchel. I pulled on my boots and carried my satchel to the door before I stopped and looked back over my room.

This was the only home I’d ever known, and while I might miss my family from time to time, I knew I’d never regret my choice. I stopped in the den downstairs and wrote a quick note for my entire family, leaving it where I knew my parents would find it.

The note ended with “I love you all more than you will ever know.”

I couldn’t think of anything more to do or write, so I turned and left by the back door, intent on visiting Buttercup and asking if he wanted to see the world with me.

What’s Next?

Have you read “Smilodon,” Book 1 of The Primogenitor Saga?

If not, get it here.

The Novels of Robert M. Kerns

For a complete and accurate listing of all publications, both currently available and forthcoming, please visit Knightsfall Press.

Knightsfall Press - Books

https://knightsfall.press/books

So…Who’s the Author?

Robert M. Kerns (or Rob if you ever meet him in person) is a geek, and he claims that label proudly. Most of his geekiness revolves around Information Technology (IT), having over fifteen years in the industry; within IT, he especially prefers Servers and Networks, and he often makes the claim that his residence has a better data infrastructure than some businesses.

Beyond IT, Rob enjoys Science Fiction and Fantasy of (almost) all stripes. He is a voracious reader, with his favorite books too numerous to list.

Rob has been writing for over 20 years, and Awakening is his debut novel.

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