Mothership Wilderness Novels & Stories

My mother’s approval. And yet, standing there in silence, it all felt strangely hollow. Two months ago, I’d moved into Solara Crest because I’d been sick of my penthouse, sick of being too far above everything. It had been luxury, yes, but the kind that felt disconnected from the world. Too quiet. Too controlled. I needed the city closer. I needed chaos sometimes. So when Casper mentioned a high-end condo building called Solara Crest, I’d checked it the same night and signed the paperwork before I could talk myself out of it.

It is respect, but it's laced with a heavy dose of caution. The gate opens without another question. Cassie lets out a quiet, impressed sound, sitting back. “Okay… that just happened.” I stay silent. As the car rolls past those gates, the atmosphere shifts instantly. It’s wild. As we move deeper into a part of the club I’ve never seen, my breath hitches. It is pure Sodom and Gomorrah, a blur of skin and motion that looks more like a public sex party than a lounge. Cassie seems to thrive on the chaos. She yells over the music just as the car comes to a halt, “‘Fuck, these people are starving for it. They actually want to be seen.’”

It wasn’t every day I got to see the Savage himself at one of these races. I tilted my head skyward, spotting rows upon rows of werewolves lining the rooftops of the buildings–the onyx sky dappled with the brilliant glow of their eyes. It was a kaleidoscope of color as they peered around, leaving warped, mystical shapes in their wake. My attention snagged toward a woman standing a few people to our left, raising her candy-red blouse and flashed her chest toward the bikers. Her shrill voice carried over the crowd despite the noise as she shouted, “Savage! Hey Savage! Look here, baby!”

“The night the rogues hit us like a tidal wave. Coordinated. Vicious like they had been planning for months. They came from three directions at once. My mother held the eastern gate alone so the pups and elders could get out. She died there, torn apart. My father saw it happen from the entrance. Something inside him just…snapped. After that, he barely spoke. Sat on the throne staring at nothing until the madness took over him.” The courtyard had gone quiet around us…even the wind seemed to still.

Grandma Granger was inwardly moved, and her nose became sour. After she hesitated for a few seconds, she reached out to accept it. Chris sniffed his reddened nose and muttered, “Grandma, you can blame me. You may hit me and yell at me, but please save my Mommy, okay? I don’t want to lose my Mommy, and I don’t want to be a Mommy-less wild breed…” Grandma Granger saw how pitiable he was and thought of the things he did for her. With her heartstrings tugged, she helped him up to his feet.

I pause staring at it as pictures of when she was tied to the tree begin to compare themselves to the image of ash which before me now lay. Anger is the only thing I feel. Madre had killed enough. She takes people's children from them and then kills them when she feels like it. As if we are her collection of inanimate objects. I walk to the lake which has been elegantly decorated by the moonlight. The night breeze blows slowly and smoothly through my hair, over my skin, and upon the water as though expecting my arrival.

I did manage to find a neighborhood group of friends when I was eight, but they only lasted for a year before I wasn’t allowed to play with them anymore. Like many kids at the time, my siblings and I spent a lot of time alone without supervision. I always prefer to think of the great adventures we had. Our parents being gone left us to our own imagination. We were the wild kids in the neighborhood. We camped at the local playground all night, we went looking for ghosts at the local creek, and we build a fort under a tree that we buried treasure under. I loved to tell my children about being wild and free as a child, but there was a price that I paid for this freedom. One of the prices that w

This was a wild addiction, one that will never be tamed. And I loved it as much as I hated it. I could feel it flooding my veins, filling every part of me with a searing need that could only be soothed by his touch. Even his voice—that would take the edge of needing him so completely off. Because I did. I needed him so fucking entirely I almost missed the turn-off to my parents’ place. I caught it in time and swerved down the old road. It took me just two minutes to travel down it, and as I slowed, I realized that I was doing way over the limit. Shit. I was lucky a cop didn’t drive past me.

I was being rebuilt in real time, the hollow spaces in my soul being filled with the messy, beautiful chaos of a life I had forgotten. The Great Mother hit the edge of the children's circle and was thrown back by the sheer force of the maternal resonance. This wasn't magic she could fight. This was biology. This was the fundamental frequency of the bond. "The Cache is complete," Maya whispered, her voice echoing in my mind. I opened my eyes. The gold light was still there, but it wasn't cold anymore. It was burning with the rage of a mother who finally knew exactly what she was fighting for. I stood up, my hand finding Killian’s, our pulses synchronizing as our resonance finally merged.

Mara and Fen join, their hands warm on my back and shoulder. For a moment, something like peace fills the clearing. The forest breathes. The wound in the earth quivers, waiting for us to begin. The past burns. The future begins. And Silverpine—pack, witch, and mother—may yet survive.