Wolf In Sheep Clothing

“Dew!” Jenine called out, her voice shaky with the fear that had now started to creep in. The light from the portal through which she had crossed had died out with a flicker, leaving the entire forest in an eerie silence and blackness. 

Her eyes blinked quickly, adjusting to the darkness. 

The moonlight seeped through the roof of the forest and onto the clearing where Jenine had found herself. It lit up to a generous extent the clearing, but the part of the forest where the trees were the thickest looked like a scene out of a horror movie, an eerie darkness covering them as the thick roof created by the trees prevented the moonlight from passing through. Something moved behind the shadows at the far end of the clearing, and Jenine jumped.

"Dew, is that you?!” she called again, her hands clutching tightly the denim bag she had brought with her. Still no answer. 

The thing shuffled again behind the bushes in the dark, startling her. She strained her eyes as hard as they could go, forcing them to catch a glimpse of what was there. Still nothing.

“Maybe I'm just seeing things,” she sighed, readjusting the bag that hung upon her aching shoulder.

"No, you're not!” a voice boomed like a canon in the blackness of the night, echoing throughout the entire forest.

The air felt colder as Jenine felt a shiver run down her spine. Her heart quaked to a stop.

“Turn around, little girl,” the voice growled. 

She had never heard anything like it. It had a rumble to it, like a hundred wounded dogs snarling at the same time. 

Jenine stifled the scream that threatened to escape her quivering lips. Her eyelids batted very quickly as they always did when she was nervous. Or scared. 

She felt a lump in her throat and tried to swallow, but it seemed the lump had found its home. Her chest felt heavy like a log of wood had been dropped on it, and she realized that she had been holding her breath. 

She turned around slowly, whimpering, her breathing in short, fast gasps.

“Lost, my friend?” the figure growled from the shadows. 

Jenine couldn't see its face clearly, but the eyes? She could see them. They glowed like sapphire that had been exposed under the sun—a bright, blue color, beautiful yet cold and frightening. The figure moved forward.

Jenine took a step backward, her heart hammering against her chest like a war drum, threatening to explode.

The figure took another step out of the darkness and into the moonlight, and she could see its face in the semi-darkness. It was a man. He had a great deal of facial hair. His eyes were sunken deep into their sockets, and his face was contorted into a permanent scowl.

“Are you lost–” his lips grinned, exposing a set of jagged teeth, “–my friend?” 

He licked his lips predatorily, his face glistening with mischief as his hands balled into fists. 

How he stressed the word “friend,” very slowly, so slow it was almost a drawl, sent Jenine's heartbeat into a thumping frenzy. 

His lips curled upwards into a crude smile as the familiar scent of fear wafted from Jenine into his nostrils.

“RUN!”

Jenine heard the voice scream loudly inside her head. She could swear it but this wasn't the time to think about what was real and what wasn't. Right about now, her only reality was the threat glaring right at her, his body quivering, giving away his impatience to pounce on her and tear her to shreds. 

She took another step backward. Her bulging eyes darted around in a futile attempt to seek a window of escape. Or a messiah.

The man's lips curled up again into his unfriendly smile as he took a step further, his cold blue eyes piercing deeply into Jenine's, making her heart race.

Instinct kicked in like a volt of electricity—a raw, powerful, undefined need for survival. 

She swirled around very quickly, taking to her heels, her feet crushing the dried leaves that lay on the forest floor.

“Shit shit shit…” she groaned as she sprinted haphazardly. 

Her hair flailed behind her as she ran. She held tightly onto her bag as she raced across the forest as fast as she could and as much as the trees scattered all over could let her. A part of her hair fell across her eyes; she pushed it back with one hand, steadying her bag with the other, all without slowing down.

“Ouch!” she cried as she hit a stump. She hadn't seen it. Her legs wobbled under her body. Her shin smarted where the little tree had made contact. 

“I should have taken PE… seriously,” she gasped as her weak lungs stretched to their limits. All the running was definitely taking a toll on her untrained body. Her legs finally steadied under her tiring body.

A low growl behind her reminded her of the imminent danger. She had seen apex predators hunt down their prey on Nat Geo wild but nothing could prepare her for what she was about to hear or see. 

The growl came again and this time louder. It sounded nothing like anything she had heard before—something between the heart-rending screams of a tortured man and the roar of an angry animal. An unearthly sound of bones snapping filled the air like an announcement of doom.

She looked back. 

Turning just in time to see her pursuer bend on all fours, shifting into a wolf, a wave of realization hit her. This place wasn't the same with the plain ol' city she had lived all her life, where nothing almost happened. This was the supernatural world where the werewolves thrived—lived, hunted, and marked territories—and quite frankly—sadly for Jenine—the rules of the human world did not apply here. This was Lupestone, home to several fierce packs where the prestigious and feared Nightmoon pack reigned supreme with a very powerful Alpha. 

“Oh God,” Jenine cried as the wolf closed in on her with bared teeth and intent in his eyes. Time seemed to slow down for him as he caught up very quickly. He swiped at her feet with his long claws slicing through her jeans and flesh, drawing blood.

Jenine's scream pierced through the darkness, disrupting the stillness of the night. Pain coursed through her body in torrents as her open flesh grazed against the coarse material of her torn jeans. She tried frantically to regain her footing, but her legs slowly gave in to the excruciating pain. The ground seemed to draw her to itself as she crashed down, wincing in pain.

The wolf stealthily and steadily approached her with a low growl, snarling, his fangs exposed and saliva dripping out of his hungry jaws.

“Help!” Jenine screamed, her eyes blurred with tears, and her senses heightened by fear. 

The wolf stalked closer and closer.

“Somebody help me, please!” she screamed again, kicking backwards, pushing herself over the forest floor. 

The tears poured from her eyes in streams as she dragged herself across the floor. It didn't help matters that the pain from the wound on her leg was driving her crazy

The blood gushed and stuck the jeans to her open flesh in an uncomfortably painful manner.

“Oh God,” her body shuddered, as she propped her back against a tree, turning to face the wolf, who seemed to enjoy the hunt.

She stared into his icy, cold eyes with wide, pleading eyes, but he kept closing in, the scent of blood from Jenine's wound intoxicating him like wine. 

If anything, Jenine's fear seemed to ignite the murderous fire in him, for the more she whimpered, the more he growled.

A clawed paw forward, then another, and another… and he was three paws away from her. 

Her trembling hands grasped tightly onto the grass, distributed sparsely all over the floor. Her teeth chattered inside her mouth even as she gritted them. She shut her eyes tightly, resigning herself to fate. 

Fate, who had been against her right from the beginning. Fate, who was right in her face, growling and desperately eager to make a meal out of her. 

“Leave her alone!” a strong, deep voice roared. 

The air seemed to pause as the voice hung idly filling the forest with a rage-filled dread. 

Jenine’s heart skipped again. 

Slowly, she opened her tightly shut eyes. 

A tall, heavily built man stood at the edge of the forest, appearing from behind the trees. His eyes peeking through dark, curly hair glowed a bright gold as he stared with a wild look on his face, his back hunched. 

The fangs hung out of his lips speaking of fear and death. The claws sticking out the end of his fingertips looked like solid pain. He was borderline away from being a complete wild animal.

The wolf that had been Jenine's hunter turned to face him with teeth still barred, growling menacingly. He turned again to face Jenine.

“I said leave her alone!” the man roared, his eyes flashing in the dark. 

He stepped forward, his graceful frame crouching. 

Jenine heard the snap—quick and instant—as he shifted to a wolf in a blink of an eye. 

A field of energy pulsed around him, vibrating, daring the wolf to make a move.

Jenine's eyes widened in their sockets.

The sparse moonlight danced gracefully on his sleek brown fur. It reflected the light creating a dull halo over him, making him appear larger than he actually was. 

Honey-colored eyes sat in his eye sockets. His lips curled back, revealing a set of pointy fangs that made Jenine shudder.

The trees shook as he roared, his clawed paws threading the ground.

The other wolf turned around from his prey to face him, his eyes sizing up the newcomer, his teeth still barred, and—to Jenine—it seemed he was contemplating battling. 

Jenine felt her cheek flush. Her breathing became laboured as her temperature rose, her heartbeat increasing by several BPMs.

“Oh God,” she gasped, her body quivering. 

Her eyes drooped tiringly, threatening to close. 

She shook herself but winced as the pain in her leg stopped her short, reminding her of her mortal wound. Her head spun as she took a pitiful look at the leg.

The wolf that had chased down Jenine seemed to rethink his decision. He stopped growling, staring apprehensively at the big wolf before him. He finally gave in, dropped his tail, and strutted away, but not before giving a bark that expressed his utmost displeasure. 

Jenine heaved a sigh, relief visible on her face. She unclenched her fists that, up until now, still held onto the grasses. She looked up at the brown wolf that had saved her. 

He stood perfectly still, staring at her through glowing toffee eyes.

Jenine could see him shifting back to his human form as he walked up to her, his eyes piercing deeply into hers as if searching her soul.

Her eyes widened, threatening to pop out of their sockets as she ogled this godlike man, and for the first time, she noticed he had not so much as an underwear on.

“You shouldn't be out here this late,” the words rolled from his mouth heavily like a stream of water thundering down a waterfall. 

His bare chest was broad and well-carved, complemented by well-defined biceps that had veins snaking around them like vines. 

His messy black hair drooped gently onto his face. His crimson red lips looked intoxicating as he steadied his honey-eyed gaze on the girl sprawled before him. His eyes strayed to her leg.

“You've lost a lot of blood. Best to get you to a healer.”

"I... I didn't... I don't..." Jenine stammered as she cowered under his steady gaze.

Her eyes strayed to his lower body, and she looked away immediately, feeling dirty inside of her. She didn't have too much time to feel bad. Her head felt light and spun and her

eyes burned—and much to her dismay—slowly started closing like they had a mind of their own.

“Oh, fuck me,” she muttered as his strong arms picked her up.