Lycan’s Hunt, chapter one

• Aubrey • I check the chains one last time, ensuring they’re secured to the thick wooden beams in the cellar. My hands tremble slightly, not from fear of the shift with the full moon but from what I could do if these restraints fail. The cold metal feels comforting under my fingers, a promise of containment.

My breaths come out steady as I test each link, a routine that is as familiar as it is necessary. I take a deep breath, knowing no matter what, I’m safe down here. The cellar air smells damp and earthy, like the kind that clings to the back of your throat.

I can already sense the change in my body, an anticipatory ache that signals the beast within is waking up, and that instinct will soon take over and override all common sense. I close my eyes, trying to calm my racing thoughts. I take one last look around, making sure everything is as it should be.

That’s when the door creaks open above me, spilling a slice of dim twilight into my carefully prepared prison. Max stands there in his favorite dinosaur pajamas, his tiny silhouette framed by the dying light. His wide, innocent eyes are filled with curiosity and worry, and tears shimmer in his gaze as he peers down at me.

His tousled dark hair, so much like his father’s, falls into his face, and he clutches a worn-out stuffed dinosaur to his chest. Panic overtakes me at the sight of him. What is he doing here?

“Max! What are you doing here?”

My voice pitches high and frantic, betraying the fear that grips me. He shouldn’t be here, not now. Not on the one night I’m more monster than human.

If Max stays, he risks witnessing my shift, which is something no child should ever see. Worse, in my altered state, I might not recognize him, and he could be in grave danger. The thought of harming him, even unintentionally, sends a chill down my spine, amplifying my panic to get him to safety.

He takes a hesitant step forward, his eyes wide and uncertain. “I… I didn’t want you to be alone.”

A wave of conflicting emotions crashes over me: love, fear, desperation. I want to reach out and comfort him, to let him know everything will be alright, however I also need to protect him from the danger I pose. My heart aches with the need to reassure him, yet my mind screams for him to leave before it’s too late.

“Get out!”

It comes out harsher than I intend, but he needs to understand the danger. “You can’t be here, Max. It’s not safe.”

I fumble in my pocket for my phone, the device feeling alien and clumsy in my hands. I need Soren; he has to get Max out safely before I shift. Except the screen stays blank, with no reassuring ring or vibration.

I hit redial, desperation clawing at my throat—still nothing—no answer. “Please, Max. You have to go. Now.”

His bottom lip juts out in the stubborn way I have come to expect. “No,” he says quietly, with more conviction than a boy his age should possess.

“You’re scared. I can’t… I can’t leave you here alone.”

His statement stings like a blow to the gut, overwhelmed by his innocence. How can I make him understand? He’s just a kid; he shouldn’t see me like this, much less be near me.

I force a smile. “It’s alright. Don’t worry, everything will be alright.”

I turn away, trying to erase any signs of my distress, not wanting him to panic. “I just need to figure out how to get you home.”

I move toward the cellar ceiling dome, peering out at the dying light. I mentally try to work out the distance and time I have left. If I stick to the shadows, I should be fine.

The moon’s touch will force the initial shift. I shudder at the thought of trying to deny the moon. I glance at Max.

He can’t stay here; I can smell him, which means I’ill pick up his scent now that he has been here; I know I’ll either hurt myself or him trying to escape those chains. “Bree?”

Max murmurs, and I meet his gaze. His face is a mix of confusion and hurt, but there’s no time to explain, no moment to spare. Every second he remains is a second closer to disaster, to a slip of control I can’t afford.

Without another word, I grab Max’s hand and pull him out of the cellar. There’s an urgency in my step that brooks no argument, and he stumbles after me, still protesting. “Come on, we need to move fast. I need to get you home!”

The forest looms just beyond my backyard, a dark wall of trees that will hopefully offer enough protection from the moon, it is the quickest way back to the castle. Already, I can feel the itching beneath my skin, the impending betrayal of my own body as it prepares for the inevitable. The moon, that cursed silver disc in the sky, peeks through the branches, mocking me as it rises higher and howls break out.

The wolves’ howls aren’t just a threat; they’re a reminder of how many rogue wolves reside in town that will also be shifting tonight. Each eerie call pierces my resolve, urging me to move faster, to stay ahead of the transformation that threatens to consume me. We need to stay out of their path; they pick up my scent or Max’s, and this can end badly.

Max stumbles over a root, and I have to pull him upright, his eyes wide and fearful. The silver light of the moon spills over his face, highlighting the freckles scattered across his cheeks and the terror lacing his eyes. He opens his mouth to ask a question and I shush him, my senses sharpening with each passing second.

Ahead in the distance, is the imposing silhouette of the castle looming against the murky night sky, an eerie sight amidst the darkness and the only light besides the moon taunting me through the leaves of the trees. Within seconds, we’re off again, rushing through the underbrush, dodging low-hanging branches and leaping over gnarled roots. As desperation fuels my frantic pace, I feel my control slip inch by inch.

An unforgiving chill radiates from my fingers up my arm as we continue our reckless sprint toward safety, accompanied by a dull roar echoing in my ears. “Almost there,”

I whisper more to myself than Max, trying to convince my muscles to keep moving, to obey just a little longer. As darkness settles around us, pain wraps its cruel fingers around my stomach, squeezing until I’m forced to double over. “Are you okay?”

Max’s voice is laced with concern, but it feels distant, as if coming from underwater. “Cramps,”

I manage to gasp out, each word spiked with agony. The transformation is close, too close. My vision blurs, trees and sky merging into a spinning carousel of colors.

I must get him to safety before— “Which way, Bree?”

Max’s question slices through my disorientation. I blink hard, trying to clear the fog in my head. “This way—no, wait.”

Every direction looks the same, foreign and twisted. We’re lost, wandering aimlessly as precious minutes trickle away. “Damn it,”

I curse under my breath. I grab his hand and continue to drag Max through the forest. My heart pounds in time with our racing footsteps.

The crunch of twigs beneath our feet seems unbearably loud on this quiet night. Then the sound of other wolves howling reaches my ears, and I know they can sense me; my pheromones are off the charts. “Stick close to me,”

I order him, my voice laced with an urgency that has him nodding, all protests forgotten. We weave in and out of the shadows, the dense undergrowth pulling at our clothes as if trying to slow us down. Another branch snaps under Max’s foot, the sound echoing eerily as I cast a nervous glance around.

Goosebumps lace my skin, and the scent of other wolves drifts under my nose as the breeze shifts. Max’s breathing is ragged, a mix of fear and exertion, and his eyes dart around wildly, reflecting both the moonlight and his growing panic. It seems now he is realizing the mistake he made by coming to find me.

His grip on my hand tightens, and he shakes my hand for reassurance that I’m struggling to give when the howls grow nearer. Despite his obvious terror, he matches my pace, trusting me to get him home safely. I’m beginning to slow, my body struggling to fight against the urge to shift.

We’re too late. The change is starting. Panic seizes me as a shiver wracks my body.

I can barely contain a whimper as my bones start shifting beneath my flesh. Every muscle burns as though exposed to white-hot flames—my sight wavers. The world is tilting on its axis, my vision and sense enhancing, morphing.

“No,”

I grit out between my clenched teeth, stumbling and dropping Max’s hand. He spins around, worry etched across his face. “Bree?”

I shove him away when he tries to touch me. “What’s happening?” he asks, his voice trembling slightly.

I can’t answer him, he pain is blinding now. “You need to go!”

I growl, jumping at the sound of my beast coming forward. Without a word or explanation, I push Max away as hard as I can. I send him sprawling into a pile of leaves near a towering oak.

He cries out in shock. I don’t have time to comfort him or explain again why he needs to stay away from me. The first silver ray of moonlight brushes against my skin, and I feel it–the shift.

It rips through me like a hurricane, bones contorting, flesh reshaping. “Max.”

The word is a growl, torn from a throat that’s no longer fully human. He recoils, eyes wide with horror as the change overtakes me. “Run,”

I manage to snarl, the command rough and guttural. He’s rooted to the spot, transfixed by the grotesque metamorphosis I’m trying desperately to stop. “Please!”

I beg him. If Max doesn’t run, the beast’s instincts might take over completely, leaving him vulnerable to an attack. His hesitation could mean the difference between life and death, as I may not be able to control the primal urges surging through me.

Every second he remains there, frozen, brings him closer to a fate neither of us wants to imagine. My teeth elongate, fur covering my body as I will my body not to snap and pop. If I complete the shift, I’m not sure I can reverse it until the moon drops.

“Bree?”

Max whispers as a howl pierces the night, one that doesn’t belong to me. Others are near; I can smell them so strongly now. They want to hunt; they want to chase.

Shoving Max, he stumbles out of the treeline when I notice the river; I know it runs at the back of the castle grounds, and hope flares in my chest. We reach the river, its waters a black mirror reflecting the moon above. The other wolves close in, emboldened by the scent of fear and the promise of a she-wolf.

They’re shadows flitting between the trees, circling, hungry for the hunt. As my gaze tracks them on the other side of the river, I grit my teeth, knowing if I shift completely, Max stands no chance. “Stay behind me,”

I command, my words barely recognizable. My body moves of its own accord, instincts honed by countless moons taking over. Max’s eyes widen in terror, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.

He clutches onto my arm, his knuckles white. “Bree, they can smell us, can’t they?” he stutters.

I don’t bother answering. Max’s face is pale, his chest heaving with terror. He knows, as do I, we’re no longer alone in these woods.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

His words are cut off with a shriek as one wolf backs up and charges toward the water. A vicious snarl leaves it as it jumps from rock to rock, trying to cross, only to disappear into the treeline further up the river. The air vibrates with growls, a sinister chorus that chills my already fevered blood.

“Max,”

I whisper urgently, my voice a rough echo of my human self. “Stay back.”

I let out an involuntary cry, dropping to my knees in front of a shocked Max. The shift is taking over, and there is no turning back now. My skin feels as if it’s on fire, my bones dislocate and snap as they rearrange themselves.

Sweat breaks out across my forehead as I fight to keep conscious – not for myself, for Max. He is still too close. He is still not safe.

My human features are slipping away beneath fur and muscle as every bone in my body screams in protest. The phone drops from my hands and skitters across the hard ground. Max takes another step forward, his small hand reaching out for me.

“I’m not afraid…”

“No!”

It’s a roar now. My voice distorted as my body bends and twists. Terror flashes in his eyes, but it’s too late–he’s seen too much.

Two hulking forms emerge from the shadows, their eyes gleaming like molten silver in the moonlight. They’re here for me, driven by instinct and the allure of the full moon. “Run…”

It’s the last coherent word that makes it past my lips before the change is complete, ripping away my humanity. I crouch low, teeth bared, as the first wolf lunges. Its jaws snap inches from my face, but I’m fast–fueled by desperation.

Claws meet flesh, mine against theirs. Vicious and brutal. The second wolf joins in, aiming for my flank, I whirl around.

Teeth and claws. I can’t afford to lose, not with Max so close. I feel a rib crack under the force of a massive paw, pain flaring hot and bright.

It only serves to sharpen my focus. With a ferocious howl, I tear into the throat of the attacker, blood hot on my tongue. The other wolf hesitates, sensing the turn of the tide, and I seize the moment.

Bones crunch beneath my jaws, a finality that echoes through the stillness as his neck snaps. The one that tried to cross from the river suddenly steps out of the tree line too and barrels toward me, only to stop mid-jump. The chaos pauses as clouds drift over the moon, casting a brief shadow.

My form shivers, reshaping into something fragile and human. I collapse onto the cold ground, naked and slick with blood; each breath is ragged when the other wolf shifts back. “Fuck!” he curses, his gaze turning upward to the moon, as he rushes off for the trees, trying to put distance between us.

“You should know better than bringing a kid out in the woods on a full moon!”

“Thanks, asshole!”

I growl, staring at the body of the other wolf. He shifted back, so I know I’ve killed him. Guilt gnaws at me as I stare at the lifeless body, the weight of my actions settling heavily on my shoulders, knowing, like the other two, he couldn’t help himself.

If given the chance, he probably would have run away like the other two once the moon was obscured. No wolf likes the idea of hunting she-wolves and mating them. It’s just something she-wolves have learned to accept since there is no stopping it; the men are slaves to their instincts, just as the she-wolves are.

Staring at the man, I try to tell myself it was self-defense, a necessary evil to protect Max, yet the hollow justification offers little to remove my guilt. Now I worry about when the moon is uncovered by the clouds because this body could be Max. “Run,”

I plead again, the word a broken whisper. “Please, Max, you need to run!”

I clutch at the dirt, trying to cover myself. His face is ghostly pale in the dim light, his eyes wide and unseeing. Once again he’s frozen, immobilized by fear, shock, or both.

The silence is heavy, suffocating, until the moon glides free from the canopy above us. Silver light floods the clearing, and agony lances through me as another shift begins. “Max!”

I cry out, my bones contorting. “Your dad—”

“He’s on the way,” he stammers, fear battling with concern.

“I mindlinked him.”

“Go!”

I manage before the beast surges forth, drowning the last vestiges of humanity. As my vision tunnels into predatory focus, I see him, still a statue of dread. Muscles tense, fighting the inevitable, I dig my feet into the damp earth, using every ounce of my will to hold back the beast clawing its way out.

“Not yet,”

I mutter through gritted teeth at the damn moon. It’s a losing battle; my skin ripples with suppression as my eyes look for anything to help me from shifting before my gaze goes to the racing river, then Max. “Bree?” he murmurs as I listen to the crash of the river on the rocks of the waterfall at the end of it.

The chances of me surviving a fall like that are slim and if I do, I won’t survive the rocks at the bottom once the waterfall pins me down. What choice do I have? I won’t let my beast hurt him.

Max’s voice is a distant echo, his figure blurring as my eyes start to betray me, shifting from human to wolfish sight. He needs to be safe—I need to be away from him. Now.

“Stay…”

I begin. Swallowing a howl, I pivot on my heel and bolt. The waterfall roars in the distance behind him.

That’s it—my chance to evade the impending shift long enough for Max to escape me. The pounding of the water syncs with my racing heart as I near the cliff’s edge. The air is heavy with mist, the scent of pine and river mud thick in my nostrils.

“Please, just a bit further,”

I beg myself, the words lost to the wind. However, there’s no stopping it now. A painful jolt surges through my spine, and I stumble, almost sprawling onto the dirt.

My body betrays me, the shift erupting from within as if my flesh is merely a cocoon being shed. With the last shred of my humanity clinging to the precipice of the abyss, I leap at the same time Max’s scream pierces the air, loud and bloodcurdling. The rush of air past my ears is a fleeting freedom.

The water below surges up to meet me, a cold, unforgiving embrace. I hit the surface—a shock of icy pressure enveloping me, dragging me deeper. Water buffets me from all sides, disorienting, smothering.

In the tumultuous depths, the transformation completes, and the beast takes over, thrashing wildly against the current that seeks to claim it. Sucked under by the relentless force, I’m pulled away, away from Max, away from the threat I pose to him. The water’s roar drowns out everything else, and darkness swallows me whole.

I spiral down into the watery vortex, deeper and deeper as the pressure increases, squeezing against my shifted form. My lungs burn for air, my senses heightened as I struggle for control. My transformation is now complete; the beast is fully awakened within me, its primal instincts rising to combat the harsh currents that threaten to crush me.

Sudden tranquility seizes me as I feel my lungs start filling with water. Perhaps the beast has surrendered to the water, accepting its fate with a grace I never believed it possessed, as I am battered against the rocks. Beneath the water, the moon disappears, and the cold seeps into my veins, quenching the burning fire that once thrived.

The beast’s fury subsides as the icy tendrils wrap around my body, slowing my thrashing and stilling my heart as the shift takes me back to myself. I sink deeper into the void, swallowed by its merciless silence, and then darkness swallows all the light.