“I was changed by a spell decades ago. I can’t explain exactly the magic that let that happen, but I do know that the change – it isn’t so much physical, like bones cracking and flesh falling away like you see on TV. It doesn’t hurt. It is simply a tingling of power that takes over my body, and I transform from wolf to man or man to wolf. It’s all about a spell created centuries ago by a sorcerer. He protected those he loved by using his powers to grant them eternal life and animal strength when needed. Does that make any sense?
“It’s more a power thing, some magic that lives inside me, than a physical thing at all. Though, when I’m a wolf, I’m one hundred percent wolf physically. And, when I’m a man, well, I’m all man,” he stated, motioning his hands to frame his body before quickly returning them to cover himself. “The difference is, when I’m a wolf, I still have all the same thoughts and memories. I can pull from knowledge. I’m moved by emotions. I know I didn’t let you answer, but does any of that make sense?”
“In fiction, yes. If I’d read it in a book, I would totally get it. But, standing by, in front of you, with no clothes on for heaven’s sake, it’s hard to reconcile all you just said to reality.”
“I know. I get that. It took some time for me to adjust even after I’d been spelled and learned to change. I don’t need a moon. I only need the magic that possesses me,” he offered with a shrug, as if he spoke of nothing more than the everyday habits of a man.
“You mentioned emotions?” I hedged.
“Yes, I can feel your emotions just as you feel mine. It is part of our connection, what you referred to before as your wolf spirit guide. I’m more an assigned protector, but out bond enables a sort of empathetic gift. Your emotions are my call, the way I know when you need me.”
His hands uncovered himself and went to my upper arms. I shrunk in on myself even as I relished in the heat that shot through my body, to my core. I buzzed, sort of vibrated in all my womanly places from between my thighs to my breasts. I tightened my thigh muscles as my nipples pebbled. I looked back and forth at his large hands on me, and he let them drop.
“Alright, so magic and wolfy-ness and all. Let’s say I buy it,” I got out before taking a deep breath for courage to continue. “Why are you here with me? You’re the wolf I’ve known since childhood in my dreams? The same one that I’ve gotten glimpses of time and again? Are you my only wolf spirit or protector as you called it? Or, are there numerous wolves around me? Was it you the other night that I saw from my deck when I called for you through an attempt at a spell of sorts of my own? I never really believed in magic, but I was desperate, so I admit I attempted the ritual.”
“Okay, wait, let me answer a few questions before you turn blue. Take a breath, Christina,” he said, then waited.
I sucked in air, my lungs depleted after my rant of questions. I lowered my shoulders, felt the tight muscles protest. I laid back more against the wall, let my body go a bit slack even as it protested my efforts.
“Take another breath,” he instructed. “Now let it out, for heaven’s sake. Breathing is an instinct.”
“So is fight or flight,” I bickered.
“You’re scared of me?”
“You tell me? Wouldn’t you feel that?” I challenged.
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. You don’t fear for your safety, you fear the situation, your confusion?” he asked.
“No, I’m not exactly scared, oddly enough. I don’t think you would hurt me. If you wanted to, you’ve had a million opportunities over my lifetime to tear me to shreds as a wolf, if you’d wanted to. But, I’m a bit addled, dazed, mystified, befuddled, you pick a word. So, I feel on edge as my whole view of the world is suddenly changing. Change, how it brings about the unknown, causes fear... every horror writer knows that.”
“Sure,” he stated matter-of-factly with a roll of his eyes. “Breathe, remember?”
I obeyed, though the whole natural process seemed exhausting. My entire body, still a trap of tight muscles, made my stomach roll even more with each intake of oxygen.
“I’m the same wolf,” he explained. “I’ve been with you since the day you were born. I was chosen, turned in fact, to become a protector to the bloodline of a royal werewolf sorceress. Long ago, the sorcerer who turned his children, he had one daughter. She fell in love, despite her father’s protests, with a human. The bloodline, the royal one, it has trickled down ever since, through humans now. The werewolf magic, if you will, it has diminished, but still, humans are assigned wolves to protect the line. No longer can the sorcerer’s daughter do so herself. The line has become too numerous. The sorcerer’s sons turned their humans before they mated with them. The daughter, well, she just couldn’t find it in herself to do so, to turn the man she loved.”