The Mouth of the Den

 

December 16th

“Hurry up! Oh my god, we’re going to be late!”

Anna could hear Sophie Emmes stomping around the other room, the frantic sounds of a human hurricane: dropping makeup compacts, misplacing her purse for the fiftieth time, and barking reminders that they were going to be late for yet another holiday party.

They had been to five this month. Each one was more kitsch than the last. Ugly sweaters, angel themes, "wear what you want," bring a pet. They were silly, entertaining little normalcies;young people trying to hook up in damp basements and on questionable balconies overlooking Stein College.

The campus was a sprawling thirty-five-acre estate carved into the heart of North Carolina, hidden within the Pisgah National Forest by a delicate cocktail of magick and mischief. Stein was a rare "human connection" near Asheville; most students had no idea of its ties to the supernatural world. They came to master Psychology, Nursing, or Astronomy, never realizing the "cloak of protection" that allowed a few touched students to live in plain sight.

Anna was firmly in the latter category. Firmly. Unbeknownst to her best friend, her professors, or even the pigeon perching precariously on her windowsill, Anna was a secret. Her past was messy, dirty, and dark. It was also bloody. Her mother had paid with her life to buy Anna’s freedom, and Anna would fight forever to keep that peace. Hiding a stone’s throw from her enemies was the smartest thing she’d ever done. She just had to make it to twenty-one. Once she hit her inheritance, she would vanish from the supernatural world forever.

She stared into the mirror. Bright blue eyes flickered against pale skin and ink-black hair. The Santa hat looked ridiculous over the corset and the far-too-short skirt. "Naughty Santa’s Workshop" was the theme tonight, and she had zero patience for the costume. Sophie, of course, was the matching elf, all bright green eyes and blonde hair.

Anna closed her eyes and reached deep, catching the golden thread of her magick. She willed it down, shackling it in the cellar of her soul. When she opened her eyes again, the startling blue was gone, replaced by a dull, human chocolate brown.

One more month, she told her reflection. Then you’re free.

“ANNA!”

She jumped. “I’m ready, I’m ready! Hold on to your thong, girl.”

Anna wasn't interested in men, human or otherwise. She was interested in escape. She wanted long, rainy nights surrounded by ancient tomes and hot cocoa. She had been "bequeathed" Sophie as a roommate three years ago, and Sophie had turned out to be the best friend a runaway could ask for. But as Anna looked at her, a pang of guilt struck. Could she really walk away from the life she’d constructed? From the only person who treated her like she was more than a mistake?

Yes, she told herself. I have to. The sooner I leave, the safer she’ll be.

The wind ripped through the trees as they stepped outside. Anna’s skin didn't crawl from the cold; it burned. It was five days until the full moon, and her body was a map of aches and pulling muscles. She wanted to strip the heels and the silk and run until her lungs gave out. Instead, she let a shivering, freezing Sophie huddle under her arm as they trudged toward the frat house.

When the massive mansion loomed out of the dark, Anna stopped dead.

“Alpha Phi, Sophie? You got an invite to an Alpha Phi party?” Anna’s voice was a low grit.

Alpha Phi was the Blackwood Pack’s primary pipeline. It was where they sent their prestigious, chisel-faced, bone-headed future leaders to matriculate in drinking and mating. It was a gilded kennel for the elite, and every human girl on campus flocked here for a taste of the "danger."

Anna had no love for wolves. She was a rogue, an outcast, and a hybrid marked for assassination. And her air-headed friend had just walked her straight into the mouth of the den.

“Sophie!” A man’s voice echoed from the entryway.

He was human…or mostly so. He was chiseled and toned, holding a red solo cup like a scepter. He was the "Chaser," a human driver in the werewolf DoorDash system used by the elite to lure "snacks" to the house.

He looked them both up and down, his eyes lingering on Anna. “You came... and you brought a friend.”

“This is Anna,” Sophie squeaked, radiant and oblivious.

The man’s smile widened, flashing forty thousand dollars' worth of veneers. “Yes, she is. Come on in. We’re just getting started.”

Anna felt the beast in her chest growl. She wanted to grab Sophie’s arm and bolt back into the woods, but it was too late. The door was open, the scent of the pack was thick, and the hunt had already begun.

The room was thick with wolf, alcohol, desperation and a faint scent of blood. Faint enough to be a scratch but notable enough to a nose like theirs and hers. Anna watched as Sophie fluttered from room to room gawking entirely too long at each face, each joke, each punchline. She had forgotten she was in heels and a skirt. She had forgotten to have fun. She was on guard with her human friend acting like a roast on a rope. 

The thumping bass of the music wasn't just sound to Anna; it was a physical vibration that rattled her ribs, competing with the frantic drumming of her own heart.

She stayed in the shadows near a heavy oak banister, her brown eyes darting, scanning, tracking. To a human, the house smelled of expensive cologne and cheap beer. To Anna, it was a biological battlefield. The scent of Wolf was a thick, musky pressure against the back of her throat; the smell of wet earth, raw meat, and arrogant power.

And then there was the blood.

It was copper-sharp and fresh. Someone had been "playing" too rough in one of the back rooms. Anna’s stomach did a slow, nauseating roll. Her wolf half wanted to snarl at the waste of life; her warlock half wanted to hex the walls until they bled too.

“Anna! Look at this view!” Sophie shouted over the music, leaning precariously over a balcony railing that looked out toward the darkened forest. She was flushed, her pupils dilated with the thrill of being noticed by the "Elite."

Anna reached out, her fingers like iron talons as she snagged the back of Sophie’s elf costume and hauled her back toward the center of the room. “Stay close, Soph. Don't wander.”

“You’re such a buzzkill tonight,” Sophie laughed, though she didn't pull away. She leaned in close, her breath smelling of the spiked punch. “Did you see the guy in the black leather jacket by the stairs? He hasn’t stopped staring at you. I think he’s a senior. He looks... rich. Like, private jet rich.”

Anna didn't have to look to know who Sophie was talking about. She had felt his gaze the moment she crossed the threshold. It wasn't the gaze of a college student looking for a hookup; it was the steady, unblinking stare of an apex predator that had just caught a scent it couldn't quite identify.

She finally allowed her eyes to drift toward the staircase.

He was leaning against the railing, surrounded by a court of laughing jocks, but he wasn't joining in. He was massive, with shoulders that strained his jacket and hair the color of midnight. He didn't look human. He looked like a statue carved from granite and bad intentions.

As their eyes met, Anna felt a jolt of pure, electric terror. Her "chocolate brown" glamour felt thin,like a paper shield held up against a flamethrower.

He tilted his head, his nostrils flaring almost imperceptibly. He was testing the air. He was looking for the witch in the girl, or the wolf in the witch.

“We’re leaving,” Anna whispered, her voice tight.