The Accidental Werewolf

“What are you doing here, rogue?” A man growls in my ear. “Do you not know this is Mountain Fire territory?”

“Mountain Fire,” I snort out, trying my best not to laugh. “Where do you get these names?”

Staring at myself in the filthy mirror behind the bar, I try my best to avoid making eye contact with the werewolf on my left. He is a block of a man, with hands big enough to crush my skull without even trying

I, on the other hand, am small and my wolf timid. We didn’t exactly flourish during our childhood, and most of the time she hides away in fear, though I sometimes think she’s more afraid of me than other wolves.

“What did you say?” A low rumble vibrates in his chest.

Now me, I never growl, and I never shift into wolf form – except on the full moon, when I can’t control the shift. That’s when my wolf breaks out and runs free. I suppose she deserves it. Letting her out once a month probably isn’t too much to ask, considering that she heals me when I’m hurt, and warns me when I’m in danger. Well, usually. She failed me on this occasion; the two of us will have a stern talk about it later.

Avoiding the man’s eyes, I stare resolutely at the assortment of cheap booze lined up on the shelves. The barman looks from me to the big guy, then disappears to the back, leaving me alone with a very pissed off werewolf. “I’m sorry,” I apologise. “I mean no offence. I will move on.”

I chance a look at the man. He’s not the most attractive creature I’ve ever seen. His nose is crooked and bent out of shape, dark brown eyes like puddles of mud, and his lips look like something a child fashioned out of dirty pinkish clay and plopped on his face. To make matters worse, he has some kind of badly executed wolf tattoo covering half his face, and it's really doing nothing to enhance his appearance.

He growls at my inspection of his appearance, pulls back his arm, and backhands me so hard that I fall sideways off the barstool, hitting my head on the way down. Getting up, I use my t-shirt to wipe away the blood streaming from my broken nose, and I decide now is as good a time as any to bid my farewells.

I grab my pack, and try to push past the shifter, but he grabs me by the upper arm, his fingers digging painfully hard into the tender flesh. I never learned how to fight, so I can’t do much to help myself, except run or submit. “What are you?” He smells me again, inhaling deeply. “You are clearly a rogue, but…you don’t smell like one.” He looks very confused.

I get that a lot actually, but my parents warned me never to reveal who I am to anyone, especially not werewolves.

“What’s going on here?” A man asks from the door.

I strain to look past my current tormentor at the newcomer. Oh great, another werewolf. Well, they do travel in packs. But this one is different somehow, I just don’t know in what way he is different.

“I sent you in here to fetch the girl, Daniel, not attack her. How stupid are you? Is it that hard to follow a simple command, you stupid, ugly, galoot?”

“Hey,” I say without thinking, “that’s not necessary. He can’t help how he looks. How would you like it if people start insulting you?”

I look him over, trying to find a physical flaw I can use against him, but I can’t see anything obvious. Tall, blonde, and handsome, he’s the kind of man that belongs in the movies or on a stage, not a dingy hole-in-the-wall pub with cheap booze behind the counter and sticky floors that are washed once a year.

“You are very mouthy for a rogue,” the newcomer says. “What’s your name?”

“Maya,” I answer before I can stop myself. Crap on a stick. I shouldn’t have told him that.

He nods, says nothing else. If he knows who I am, he’s not letting on. “My name is Luca,” he says, not unkindly. “I’m Alpha Edric’s Beta.”

Well lah-di-dah, as if that means anything to me. I don’t know the difference between an alpha, beta, omega, gamma or however all this werewolf stuff works. Another rogue, a young man that escaped his abusive father, tried to explain it to me once, but all I remember is that you can smell the difference. Honestly though, all shifters smell the same to me.

Maybe if I allow my wolf out more often, she’d tell me, but we don’t get along. I hate what I am, and she hates me for hating her. It’s complicated.  

I quickly bite down on my lower lip before I say something that will get me in even more trouble. Daniel’s grip on my arm relaxes a little, but not so much that I can break free. “Okay,” I say, because clearly they’re expecting some kind of response.

“Alpha Edric requests your company.”

“Does he now? I politely decline.”

Luca smiles, his eyes flashing dangerously. “I wouldn’t deny his…invitation if I were you.”

“He can’t come get me himself?” I really have to shut up, but my mouth has this annoying habit of running away with me sometimes. “Why not? Is he too good or something?”

“No,” Luca says, his voice taking on a dangerous edge, letting me know I am very close to getting another slap. “He has other business to see to, but he would very much like to meet you. Tonight.”

I can’t see a way out – not yet anyway. “Well then. In that case, I graciously accept your Alpha’s invitation,” I say at last.

“You can let her go, Daniel,” Luca says, and the big man finally releases my arm.

I am not about to run. The tall werewolf blocks my way, and I’m not exactly the fastest wolf to ever wander this planet.

This is the part where I should be scared, but I’m not. I’ve learned a long time ago that fear gets in the way of survival. For the first year, I was afraid all the time, and I almost died a few times because I let it cloud my judgement. You can’t think clearly if you let the fear in.

I climb in the backseat of the Beta’s car, placing my pack between my feet, not really paying attention to the other two wolves. Daniel gets in next to me, and I move all the way over, as far away from him as I can, just in case he gets any ideas to feel me up or hurt me in some other way. That was another hard lesson I had to learn…most male werewolves don’t really bother with the issue of consent – well, not the ones I keep running into anyway.

For some reason, I’ve been attracting more attention than usual lately, so sleep and food have been difficult to come by. I’m tired and weak, and just about ready to give up.

The soft hum of the wheels on the tarmac and the gentle rocking motion of the car threaten to lull me to sleep, and it’s getting harder for me to keep my eyes open. My wolf is calm though, and I can usually rely on her to let me know when I’m in imminent danger. We may not like each other, but if I die, she dies, so she does her part when I let her.

I’m pretty sure if they wanted me dead, I’d be dead already, so I decide to risk it. Leaning with my head against the cool window, I drift off to sleep while I watch the world flash by.