The sensation of something cold pressing against my skin startled me awake. I jumped, opening my eyes despite the fact that doing so only caused the wooziness to return. A hand came to rest on my good shoulder, settling me back against the large rock where I’d been propped.

“Don’t move for a moment, Charlotte,” Corbyn said as the sight of him became clearer. Crouched beside me, he concerned enough for me to wonder how long I’d been out. “If you get up too quickly, you’ll pass out again.”

I nodded, blinking several times to clear the haze from my vision. Reconnecting with the world around me, I saw the creek behind Corbyn, water trickling the way it had been before everything went dark. From the looks of things, I’d only lost a few minutes and managed to rejoin a surreal show in progress. Before I could relive what’d happened before losing consciousness, the cold compress found its way to my shoulder again, forcing me to inhale sharply against the pain.

“What the hell?” I blurted. My gaze shifted back to Corbyn, noticing for the first time that he’d removed his shirt and now wore his coat, open, exposing his chest. Before I could wonder why he’d chosen now to go topless, I squirmed and glanced over to see where his shirt had gone. The wet and balled-up piece of fabric rested against the wounds on my shoulder, the neck of my shirt stretched out enough for him to get to the damaged skin.  The way he shifted it made me clench my jaw. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to numb the pain,” he said, keeping his focus on caring for my wounds. He shot me a quick glance and frowned before looking away. “There was also some dried blood.”

“Just wonderful.” Resting my head back against the rock, I looked up toward the sky. “Did I hear what I think I heard before I passed out?”

He sighed. “If you think you heard me explain why I bit you, then yes, you heard me correctly.”

“I knew I should’ve stayed in Philly this Thanksgiving.” Groaning, I took a few deep breaths and fought against the urge to be violently ill. For as ridiculous as this all was, something in my bones told me I wouldn’t be waking up from this nightmare, even if I did puke my guts out and lose consciousness again. “I need to get home. My parents are going to call the cops if I stay out much longer.”

“Charlotte, you need to rest.”

“I’ll do that at home.” Before Corbyn could stop me, I placed both hands on the ground and made a valiant attempt to stand. In the effort to shoo away his help, though, I shot upright too quickly and watched as the world spun and flickered black before I could regain my bearings. Corbyn scrambled to his feet, catching me before I could fall and smack my head against the rock. I clung onto him despite myself.

“Okay, so that didn’t go according to plan,” I muttered while trying to focus my eyes again.

Corbyn grunted, the sound laden with frustration, while lowering me into a seated position again. “I warned you not to do that. Right now, you’re in no condition to walk alone back into town, chérie.”

“Well, I can’t stay here.”

“I didn’t have any intention of keeping you here.” Corbyn kissed the top of my head quickly, tossing the wet shirt over his shoulder and freeing both hands to take hold of me. With his assistance, I was able to lift up, much slower and more gingerly than my failed attempt. “I’m not trying to keep you from your parents,” he explained, “Or from any of your friends. You have to understand, first, what is going to happen to you, because unfortunately, no one is going to know how to help you as you change. For better or worse, we’re stuck together for a little while.”

“That’s all well and good, but I can’t just disappear for a month, either,” I countered, gripping onto him and somehow managing to take a few steps without the ground giving out beneath me. “We might have our differences, but they’re going to be worried about me. Werewolf bite or not.”

Corbyn nodded. Sliding his hand behind my back, he wrapped an arm around me and supported my weight as we walked toward a shallower part of the creek. “If you have a phone, you can call them. My parents don’t have one at their house, but if calling them doesn’t work, then I can ask someone to send a message to them.”

“You could let me rest and lead me home.”

“Give me a few days, chérie, to teach you what it means to be wolfen and make sure you’re okay. If you still want to leave, then I will take you back to your parents’ house.”

I grimaced against a jolt of pain when my arm shifted to hold onto Corbyn more securely. He paused to let me catch my breath, the guilt still present in his eyes as he watched me take a deep breath and nod. Behind the contrition on his face, he still wore a glimmer of hope and excitement I almost wished I could share. As it was, I felt like a child wandering through the wardrobe into Narnia. And I couldn’t pretend to be on the same page of this fairytale.

“So, you’re taking me to your parents’ house?” I asked as we started walking again, in part to take my mind off the nausea and agony. “What are Mommy and Daddy Marchand going to think about their boy bringing home a human he mated with?”

“Fortunately, for both of us, they won’t be there,” he said. “They’re not usually at this house unless they take meetings with their people who handle things on the outside.” When I shot him a quizzical look, he explained, “My people don’t like outsiders, but we still depend on them for a few things. While we live much simpler lives than you, there are still goods we trade and technology we borrow in order to make our lives easier. I still hope at some point, we learn to accept electricity, but the elders think it would ruin the forest.”

“Where the hell are you that you can avoid technology?”

“I will explain, but later. Fortunately, the house is much more modern.”

As much as I wanted to nod, or retort back, I lost the ability to. Soldiering forward took enough energy and concentration without trying to add conversation to it. Corbyn continued onward with a careful pace and every time we reached a place where I began to waver, he held onto me tighter and let me stop to rest. What little thought I could manage beyond focusing on pain and blacking out had been directed toward an uncertain future which left me feeling like I’d freefallen into a dream. Thoughts of transforming into something not-quite-human aside, I’d done more than change species, for as difficult as that was to wrap my head around knowing. I’d accomplished the equivalent of drunk eloping in a culture I knew nothing about.

Corbyn had told me we were mates, which left the implication we were supposed to be lovers now. Whatever whimsy I might have had about the thought, it’d been spent the night before, when I let myself run after a strange man in a bar. We continued onward, but I let my mind drift toward remembering the rest of the night.

If just to figure out how I was going to get myself out of the whole situation.

***

The time had been eleven when I handed control of the tavern over to my Dad.

By this point, I’d been separated from ‘Corey’ long enough to form the questions I should’ve asked him when he making eyes with me at the counter. Why did he want me? Had he really just come in for a beer, or did he come looking to pick someone up and was I the first woman who had caught his eye? What did he mean by offering to pull me into his world? I didn’t doubt there was something supernatural about him because he was right, I did sense it. And a very real part of me still wanted to tumble all the way into the rabbit hole with him.

The rational side of me had gotten the chance to re-establish itself by then, though, and asked what the hell I thought I was doing. Ethereal or not, he was a stranger and I was acting like a lovesick fool who threw herself at every guy with a cheesy one-liner to offer. It tried warning me to keep my head on my shoulders, but Corey wasn’t every other guy and remembering that made it hard for me to listen.

Especially when the universe reminded me just what type of being he was.

I had said goodnight to my father with the full intention of heading back to their place and sleeping away the punch-drunk whimsy; maybe even saving Corey for my fantasies when I needed a pleasant thought to settle on. As I walked out of the tavern, however, a chill ran up my spine, forcing me to stop dead in my tracks and turn my head to the side.

My father called my name from near the counter, but I didn’t budge. Not yet, anyway. I recognized the feeling, knowing the magic that had coiled itself around me when Corey had still been sitting at the bar. That same magic called to me like it had earlier and I heard an answer I’d given Corey echo in my head, affirming that I believed in destiny even if I remained a skeptic. “It’s you, isn’t it?” I asked the sensation crawling through me. He’d come for me. Corey was calling.

Immediately, I left the bar.

If my Dad had said anything else to me, I was too deep inside the spell to hear him, let alone answer. Once I’d stepped out onto the quiet streets, I halfway expected a white rabbit to appear out of nowhere and lead me the rest of the way. The door to my parents’ tavern swung shut behind me and the wind that blew past was biting and cold, reminding me it was November. I zipped my coat shut and looked around, peering down the opposite side of the street in time for something strange to catch my eye.

The streetlamp outside a touristy clock store shone with the same glow that had hinted around Corey’s face when he smiled. Without hesitating, I jogged for it, wondering if he might be staying in one of the apartments above the shop. When I reached it, however, another lamp lit up further down the road. I smiled, filled with awe. “Breadcrumbs,” I muttered, not questioning it when I raced to that building, and to the next one down the line, continuing further and further away from home and toward what I assumed would be the world I’d been promised.

Once again, I felt like Alice in Wonderland. More than a few times, I stopped to question my sanity again, but the moments of clarity became fewer and fewer, dwindling down to nothing when the sidewalks disappeared and the residential roads led further out into the countryside. I had no idea how long I had been walking, both feeling the ache in my legs and ignoring it at the same time. Once I reached the border where the forest began, I looked across the road and told myself this was it. This was where I stepped into the storybook and became one of its characters. Hesitation kept me firmly planted in place for the moment, until I saw the last breadcrumb by the edge of the two-lane road separating me from destiny.

Two golden eyes glowed from within the darkness, belonging to an animal I couldn’t make out at first – either a fox or a wolf. They weren’t threatening, however; I drifted toward the other side of the country road and marveled at what I assumed to be a gentle guide who had been called upon to lead me the rest of the way. As those golden eyes pled for me to come closer, I followed their request, and when the animal retreated back into the forest, I laughed.

“Why the hell am I doing this again?” I asked. But still, I stepped into the woods.

A gentle breeze drifted past me while my feet crunched on the first layer of debris. All at once, the answer to my question floated through my mind, telling me I had been searching for something more to this world. Something larger; something more inspiring than pomp and ritual and sacred platitudes delivered by pews full of hypocrites. It wasn’t that I denied a greater force might be at work inside the universe, I just couldn’t bring myself to accepting what my parents had offered. This might be stupid, I thought to myself as I entered the forest, but, damn it, it felt real.

Breaking through tree limbs and underbrush, I found my way to a well-worn path and stopped to catch my breath. My trek through the woods had produced a racket, loud enough to scare anything that called the forest its home. Much to my surprise, though, when I crested a hill and started down the other side, I saw the golden-eyed animal waiting for me on the other side. Moonlight filtered through the branches, revealing the lupine form of my guide. It held its place until I came within a few feet of it.

“Hey there, big fella,” I said, becoming aware when the beast straighted onto its four legs, that I had never seen a wolf so large before. It continued to peer at me, non-threatening, bowing its head even as if to tell me that it had no intention of hurting me. I held out a hand for him to sniff and smiled as he padded closer. “Are you here to take me somewhere?”

It sniffed my hand, then turned to face the opposite direction. Casting one last glance over its shoulder, the wolf lauched into a sprint, leaving the implied instruction for me to follow. I laughed and shook my head, not knowing why I wanted to continue playing this game, but intending to anyway. Despite my aching calve muscles, I chased after him.

Gasping for air, I struggled to keep up. Low-lying branches ripped through my hair and snagged on my clothing, but I ignored them and continued pursuing the swift-moving animal. The tread on my boots softened the blow of stepping over roots and sticks poking up from the ground below, but the wind threatened to blow my coat from me. When a gust caught the fabric onto a tree branch, I slid my arms from the coat and surrendered it to the forest in favor of running onward without it. I only had a light, long-sleeved black shirt on underneath, but I was nearly flushed by the time we broke into a clearing.

I swatted away another thin branch and emerged into the clearing, but was forced to stop when I couldn’t see the wolf any longer. Spinning around a few times, I attempted to find him and sighed when I couldn’t see his golden eyes shining at me again. “Hello?” I called out toward the darkness, sensing I might not be alone. The wolf had left me blind. No other guides and no mystic lights appeared to lead me any further. I stayed in place, though, and folded my arms across my body, sheltering myself from the chill which had finally caught up to me.

The last thing I had expected was to feel a hand touch my shoulder.

I jumped and swung around to face the soundless intruder, surprised when I found Corey standing there. His hair hung free of its ponytail, covering his shoulders, and a smile creased the corners of his lips that made me think of the warm, inviting way he’d looked at me in the bar. The glow of the moon made him look even more otherworldly than he had before and if I had been captivated by him then, this time, I was completely enthralled. No, it wasn’t like me to lose my head, but I was ready to surrender all reason the moment our eyes met.

“Have you found something to believe in yet, Good Charlotte Walker?” he asked, reaching out to touch my face and stepping closer when I didn’t flinch. “Besides destiny, that is?”

I shook my head, but not as a response. “What is all of this?” I asked. “And what are you?”

“Different. You might not believe me if I told you, chérie.”

“I think I’d almost believe anything you told me right now.”

“You think you would.” He stepped closer still, looking down at me as the space between us evaporated. “You don’t know what you’re asking me yet, though. I will show you, I promise. For now, I need you to trust me.”

“No small request there, eh?” I asked. While I could hardly recognize how sheepish the attention made me, I still found myself leaning into his touch, craving more. “Why me?”

“It probably wouldn’t make sense for me to say that you’re special.” His thumb brushed across my cheek, sending tingles up my spine. “I doubt you think that about yourself, but you are. I’ve dreamed of meeting you for years and hoped for you much longer than that.”

“You say that like you’re so old.”

He laughed, the sound light. “I’ve been alive long enough to know how rare somebody like you is. And I’m so glad that I’ve found you at last.”

Something behind his words still struck me as cryptic; a series of half-truths I’d press with anyone else at any other time but this. As our bodies pressed together, ‘Corey’ bent enough to allow his lips to hover near mine. My breath hitched in response while the air turned electric, a current running between us I wanted desperately to connect. My eyes drifted shut when his nose touched mine. “Will you be mine?” he asked. While any other man would’ve gotten a stern look from me, and the retort that nobody owned me, I knew exactly what he meant by that. I sensed a union of souls, aching to consummate it without knowing why.

“Yes,” I murmured. I didn’t know what else to say. ‘Take me into your world, Corey,’ or ‘Sign my name on the dotted line for everything,’ might have matched my mood, and in retrospect, I had gladly given him permission to consume me. When our lips finally met in a soft, tentative kiss, all I could think about was the mystical journey which had brought me to this man. And as our kisses intensified, I lost the ability to even think about that.

My hand lifted and fingers tangled with the long locks of his hair. As he gathered me close, he met the hungrier tenor I’d initiated and seemed just as drunk as I felt. While I expected something supernatural to happen, it seemed more and more like desire would be what carried us along. My feet floated out from underneath me, but it was only him lifting me up and lowering me down onto the ground. I sunk what felt like a pocket of air, but crunched like a pile of leaves. The air turned from cold to warm when he climbed on top of me and when Corey stripped off his coat, it seemed like he felt it, too. Our mouths met and his teeth nipped at my bottom lip, making me moan in response.

I shut my eyes when his attention strayed down my neck, his hand sliding under the fabric of my shirt. “Is Corey your real name?” I asked, as if it had suddenly become so important.

“Corbyn,” he said between breaths, lifting his mouth only far enough to be understood. “Corbyn Marchand is my full name, Charlotte Walker. Corey is only a nickname that I use on the outside.”

“Corbyn Marchand,” I repeated. “I like the way that sounds.” Corbyn wasted no time in resuming his kisses while I drew the name out in my head like I’d reverted to grade school, where little girls drew out their names with the ones belonging to their crush. When I felt his hand straying further up my stomach, it knocked me from the foolish thought and as I felt my shirt being tugged upward, I gladly helped him remove the restrictive piece of clothing. Pawing at the buttons of his shirt, I stripped him to match my half-naked state. When his skin touched mine again, it felt like heaven.

Gasps of pleasure flew from my lips like offerings to the gods the more lurid his attention became. When it wasn’t his hands, but his teeth, teasing at my breasts, I shuddered and arched my back, almost crying out demands for him not to stop. His long, delicate fingers slipped inside my pants and as they teased at me, I swam into euphoria. I hardly recognized the passage of time until I flew into release and only then, did I cobble together enough thought to reach for the button of his pants.

“You, inside of me, now,” I managed. He pulled away long enough for me to remove my shoes and as he tossed his aside, he stood to remove his pants. I didn’t bother getting upright for that. Shimmying out of my jeans, I slipped off my underwear and tossed it in the same general direction I had the rest of my clothing. When he found me again, my hands clutched his shoulders and slid down to his back, my body ready and willing as he slipped inside of me. With one last thrust, he entered me completely I called out with excited eagerness, “Yes, God, please, yes.”

He more than complied. Corbyn took me with both tenderness and hunger, possessiveness and gentleness and while I knew nothing about him, it felt like he’d already memorized me. He knew how to move and when. The rhythm he established worked me closer to a second climax and as I fought against its hasty arrival, he seemed to be clinging onto self-restraint with just as much effort. His native tongue flew past his lips, and the way he growled affected me on a primal, primitive level. I dug my heels into his sides and coaxed him along, hearing my voice like some distant sound being made by somebody else.

I had told him to do anything he wanted to me, granted. And I remembered, with shocking clarity, meaning it when I said anything. As I opened my eyes, though, coming down from the second wave of ecstasy I’d experienced at that man’s hands, I never expected I’d be staring at someone who looked so very human while being so very not. Human fingers still clung onto me, and a human face still hovered close to mine, but the eyes which stared at me looked golden, the light that had led me into the forest burning from his soul and into mine. He bared teeth that somehow looked sharper and when he bit into my shoulder, he administered no small love nip.

Pain shot through me like daggers, causing me to scream.

I remembered him holding on, holding me into place, through interminable moments of agony. When he let go, I almost gathered enough thought to sigh with relief, but couldn’t fight against the onslaught of one hell of a dizzy spell. “Tu et moi, chérie,” a very human voice had declared, but I already felt myself swimming away from consciousness. Before finally passing out, I could have sworn I heard him add, “Je t’aime, Madame Marchand,” but even that seemed like an addendum I was making in my own thoughts.

Or maybe it wasn’t.

Either way, the sun now shone on the forest with us walking together, his arm the only thing keeping me upright. I couldn’t figure out what to say to him, but mercy granted me a break from having to decide. We stopped at the foot of a steep hill. A large, modern-styled house lay on the top, with a dense border of forest in front of us. Corbyn lowered me onto one of the stones sticking out of the mound of earth and took a deep breath.

As he lifted me into his arms, he said, “Hold on tight,” and I did.

Even if I still wanted to run away.

Story Beginning | Next Chapter Coming Wed. 8/10