Changeling (Completed)

Day Forty-Six-and-a-Half

Day Forty-Six-and-a-Half

On the way back to the mansion we are surrounded by wolves. More than I could have ever imagined being in one place. I understood this shifting stuff, or at least I thought I did, but this is truly magnificent. Sleek shapes move in and out of the trees, weaving a pattern of teeth and fur as Ronson's pack chases their revenge.

It's their revenge. I can see it in the looks I am getting. Even from the wolves, intelligence swimming in their too-human gazes. I am the upstart, the interloper. Ingrid was their luna, even if she didn't want it or believe it was hers. I am not her and everyone knows it.

Thirty-eight lives. Thirty-eight months, pretending to be someone else, and yet in this one, they all know the truth. And, it's not because of this journal.

Ronson leans over the side of the truck and kisses my forehead. "They sense the absence of Ingrid's wolf, sweetheart." He chose to stay in his human-form and it makes me wonder about this feral wolf of his. I saw him, didn't I? That dark wolf, stalking me while I hid in the trees outside of his mansion was him, wasn't it? Wolfie told me it was Ronson, but now I wonder...

I nod, feeling like I've been tossed into a dream world. My lover can read my mind. How's that for supernatural? Another wolf, this one in human-form, slips past the slow-moving truck. He reaches out and grasps Ronson's hand, nodding his head. Relief shines in the stranger's eyes until he glances at me. His eyes fall to the ground and he slides away.

I'm beginning to seriously question Wolfie's understanding of the world she was living in. Especially when Hulk and Goon join us, and Goon is a large, dark-colored wolf that looks eerily similar to the wolf in my memory.

"I'm going to join the scouts up ahead, Innie-love," Ronson says quietly. "I love you." He walks into the forest and disappears, still in human form even when all the other wolves are in their shifted forms.

I sit back against the truck. The monster Alpha is driving, whistling tunelessly and tapping out a rhythm on the steering wheel with his thumbs. I rode in the bed of the truck with Benji as soon as I saw who was driving.

When my new bestie leaps into the bed of the truck where I'm sitting, she doesn't make a sound. More eyes watch her than me, with wariness, fear, and even some revulsion in their depths. Glaring at them, I shift closer to Willa. She smiles absently at me and swiftly sits in a near-perfect yoga pose. She's a bendy girl. The monster is a lucky guy.

"Hi Willa," I say sadly.

"What is wrong, Pixie?"

"Ronson's pack doesn't like me," I announce (dramatically, if I'm being honest).

Willa cocks her head to one side, looking at me quizzically. "So?"

I shrug and scootch closer to her, "Ronson loves them and they love him. I just don't want to come in between him and his pack."

Willa nods seriously. "He was going to sacrifice himself to set his wolves free, did you know? Mactiir is the only alpha," she explains, very poorly, mind you, but I think I understand.

"So Mac would have killed Ronson?" I ask her in a hushed voice.

"Not necessarily," comes the rumble from the driver's seat. "But I didn't fully trust him until about a month ago when he came to me with a story about some little witch in his mate's body." Mac snorts. "A male who loves his female enough to change his eight-year revenge plan is a male I can understand."

I share a secret smile with Willa. Men.

"There it is," Willa wrinkles her nose as the Council's monstrosity comes into sight. "The Moon must be very unhappy."