13

 

   

After intently listening to my ordeal while sipping tea and smoking the pipe, the elders conferred with each other in their language. Finally, Father Thomas looked at me with kind eyes and spoke.

“You have the mark of the wolf on you. We could see it the moment you stepped in. Tell me, child, do you know whether one of your parents is a werewolf?”

“My dad, he disappeared when I was a kid. My mom’s pretty ordinary. I’ve never seen her do anything that might indicate that she was a wolf. Other than that, I don’t know,” I said, being as sincere as I could.

“Your gift for foresight is a common one among latent wolves. For you see, long ago, when man and nature were at peace with each other, tribes such as mine made accords with Mother Earth. The Earth Mother gave us gifts, allowed us magic, and in return, we treated her with respect, love, and kindness. The ability to shift is a legacy bestowed unto our ancestors, and it seems, to yours as well,” Father Thomas said.

“Father Ernest here,” one of the elders spoke. “It’s evident from your ability that you are not, as you put it, crazy or deluded. It’s a true gift. Latent wolves, who do not know that they’re wolves yet, or haven’t learned how to transform, they often have gifts such as these. Brandon here, when he was a kid, was able to turn invisible at times, giving the entire reservation a scare by hiding in plain sight. There’s a little kid out there, Sidney, we call him. He’s a latent wolf on account of being so young. Sometimes, he can teleport from one place to another. As I said, these are common gifts that latent wolves are gifted. It seems that you are one.”

“All your life you have been fighting it, running away from it, but this is your destiny. We wolves see each other as we truly are. All of us can see the mark of the wolf on you. It’s in your identity. It’s the same reason why Brandon fell for you, felt that he had a bond with you,” Father Thomas said.

“You told them about us?” I gasped at Brandon.

“I had to. It was the only way they agreed to meet you,” Brandon said, exasperatedly, raising his hands in defense.

“You have shared some important information with us, information that might save us from trouble. You have warned us that the DOPC might be onto us,” Father Ernest said. “In return, we can do you a favor. For starters, the reservation is not off-limits to you. You may come here as you please, confer with the elders, talk to the residents, and feel comfortable among your blood-kin. When you are ready, we may aid you in shifting into your true form.”

“True form? Like a wolf? What if I decide that I don’t want that? What if I just want a normal life?” I could feel myself growing hotter by the second. “So far, no one’s asked me what I want. I didn’t want these visions. I didn’t ask for my father to disappear. I didn’t ask to be a latent wolf or anything like that. Can you understand that all of that might be a little too much for me? I didn’t ask to be your fated mate.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. I got up to leave.

“Sit, please,” Father Thomas said. “Let’s talk about it.”

“It doesn’t feel like a discussion when everything’s one-sided. Where’s my free will?” I said. “I’m sorry, but this is all too much for me. As fascinating as learning about werewolves is, as magical as this knowledge is to me, I’m hurt. Wounded. Every time I see the future, it drains me. So, please, if you respect me, if you truly believe in what you say, leave me be.”

“Alice!” Brandon called after me.

“No. Don’t follow me. Don’t come after me. A week ago, things were as normal as they can be for someone like me. Now I learn that my father might be a wolf and I might be one, too. On top of all of that, you’re all in grave danger! I don’t want to be there when the men in the uniforms show up with their guns!”

“Let her go,” I heard Father Thomas say to Brandon as I left the teepee. I felt terrible for Brandon, for all the effort that he’d put in all of this. I wasn’t ready. No one had bothered to ask me for my consent in this.

Leave, but you may return at any time. This is a place of peace for you. Don’t fight your fate, the voice rang in my head.

“Screw you!” I said as I raced out of the reservation. I was having one of my patented panic attacks. I needed to disconnect from this reality.

I hailed a cab outside the reservation and drove home, sobbing in the backseat, unable to grasp all the concepts that had been thrown my way, unable to deal with the fact that my fate was much bigger than I had ever anticipated.

A little part of me, however, was very relieved to learn that my “gift” of foresight wasn’t exclusive to me. It comforted me a little to learn that there were others like me.

By the time I reached home, I was done feeling panicky and anxious. All I felt was terrible. Brandon had been nothing but nice and accommodating to me and I had repaid him by being a huge bitch. I’d even disrespected the elders by walking out on them.