Wolves of the West

Change was something I was ready for. More than ready, actually. I was eager for it.

After months of living in a cloud of shame and embarrassment, I was more than willing to leave Pennsylvania behind and start fresh in Oregon.

My seventeenth birthday brought about a drastic change. Not only was I now eligible for a driver’s license, but I also transformed into a wolf.

Yes, a wolf. Four paws, fur, sharp teeth—the whole package.

This unexpected transformation didn’t just scare my parents, it pushed them over the edge.

I guess watching your daughter morph into a wolf while blowing out her birthday candles can mess with your sanity.

Eventually, my parents were declared unfit to care for me and were taken away to a mental institution.

All because of me.

Being an only child, I made the journey from Pennsylvania to Oregon alone.

I was going to live with my Aunt Sarah, my mom’s sister. She was a vibrant, successful lawyer at the height of her career.

The last thing she needed was a messed-up teen wolf to look after. If I were in her shoes, I would’ve left me in foster care.

But Aunt Sarah was kind-hearted, and despite the inconvenience, she agreed to take me in.

As the plane descended, the tiny buildings below grew larger.

Before we even touched down, people around me started to gather their belongings, a habit I found pointless and irritating.

I closed my eyes tightly as a baby started to cry. People began to grumble about the delay on the tarmac, and the man next to me started to fidget restlessly.

My wolf wasn’t helping the situation. She was itching to run, to stretch her legs.

That was something I’d been denying her ever since she’d terrified my parents.

She howled loudly, the sound echoing in my mind, sending a sharp pain to the base of my skull. I clenched my teeth and massaged my temples, trying to soothe her.

“—thank you for choosing our airline, we hope you enjoyed your flight. Please wait for the flight attendant to dismiss your row and have a great day.”

The pilot’s voice echoed over the cabin's P.A. system, but it fell on deaf ears—everyone was too busy complaining to pay attention.

Finally, we were ushered off the plane and into the bustling airport.

I scanned the crowd for my aunt, my stomach churning with anxiety when I didn’t spot her after a few quick glances.

I’d only seen her in photos, but I recognized her short black hair and fair skin when I finally saw her.

I approached her slowly, trying to think of something to say, but my mind was blank.

I’d had the entire flight to come up with something, but now, as I neared my only sane, living relative, I was at a loss for words.

I gave her a small smile, trying not to seem too weird. My worries eased when, without a word, she pulled me into a hug.

“You poor thing,” she murmured, hugging me tighter. “You’ve been through so much.”

Back in Pennsylvania, the cover story was that my parents had been attacked by a wild animal and were left emotionally scarred.

The story was a bit thin, but it was the best lie I could come up with when child services asked.

Unfortunately, the first lie you tell is the one you have to stick with.

“Hi, Aunt Sarah, it’s nice to meet you,” I said, awkwardly hugging her back with one hand while holding my carry-on with the other.

“Oh Haven, sweetheart. I hope your flight was alright?”

I smiled and nodded, letting her lead me to collect my luggage.

I wanted to say something else, but my mouth opened and closed like a fish as I struggled to think of something relevant to add.

“I decorated your room, but don’t hesitate to tell me if you don’t like it,” she continued. “I wouldn’t want you to feel like you have to spare my feelings—we’re family after all. If you don’t like it, just let me know and we’ll fix it right away!”

I nodded again, still smiling as we fell into a somewhat comfortable silence. I turned on the radio before she could start overcompensating again.

The drive from the airport to Aunt Sarah’s house wasn’t too long, just over an hour. I watched as the cityscape faded into a more modest-looking area.

It wasn’t a small town, but it wasn’t as big as the city either. It was a nice, medium-sized town.

Oregon was filled with forests; the outskirts of the town were surrounded by them.

My wolf was thrilled about that.

I couldn’t help but compare Oregon to my home state. Already, I was starting to feel the pang of homesickness, the discomfort of it.

Finally, we turned onto my aunt’s street. The road was lined with tall maple trees on either side.

Their age had made them sturdy and tall. Their branches hung over the street, intertwining to form a sort of canopy over the road.

We passed a large, mansion-like house that sat well beyond the tree line. When I asked Aunt Sarah who lived there, she just shrugged.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “I see people coming and going, but I don’t recognize anyone. They keep to themselves.”

I decided to leave it at that.

Just down the street from the mansion was Aunt Sarah’s house. It wasn’t as big as the mansion, but it was far from a shack.

It was white, with dark brown shutters and trim. There was a wild yet well-maintained garden.

It was the perfect house for a successful, single, suburban lawyer.

“Home sweet home!” Aunt Sarah sang as she pulled into the driveway.

I noticed her watching me from the corner of her eye, probably wanting to gauge my reaction to the house.

“Wow, this garden is stunning!” I blurted out, hoping it would be enough. Aunt Sarah’s anxious look faded, replaced by a broad smile that lit up her face.

“I’m thrilled you like it. Let’s get you settled in. You’ll need some rest before school starts tomorrow!”

I cringed and stepped out of the car, taking another look around. My inner wolf was on edge, eyeing the trees behind the large house with suspicion.

I grabbed my bags from the trunk and followed my aunt onto the porch.

The mere thought made my stomach twist in dread. The last few months of school had been a nightmare.

News about my parents had spread like wildfire, and I was instantly branded as an outsider.

Even my friends had turned their backs on me. I was the weirdo with parents in a mental institution.

“So, what do you think?” I snapped out of my thoughts and looked around, taken aback.

The room was spacious, painted a rich shade of purple. There was a desk on one side, and a large window overlooking the street on the other.

A short flight of stairs led to another roomy area with a large bed covered in a gray comforter, a walk-in closet, bathroom, and a small balcony.

“Amazing,” I breathed, genuinely excited. “It’s perfect, thank you!” I spun around to face my aunt and wrapped my arms around her, hugging her a bit too tightly.

I was still getting used to my newfound strength and was surprised when she started coughing. I immediately let go and stepped back, my cheeks burning.

“Sorry, I got excited. I was on the baseball team last year and it really built up my arm muscles.” Lying was becoming second nature—not that my lies were getting any better.

I didn’t want to lie to my aunt, especially after she’d given up her single life to take care of her distant niece.

But she didn’t know about werewolves, and I wanted to keep it that way.

Truth be told, I didn’t know much about werewolves myself. I only knew what I’d read on the internet.

And I’d already learned that the internet wasn’t always the most trustworthy source.

For all I knew, I wasn’t even a werewolf, just some freak of nature. I could be the only one of my kind.

This thought—more than losing my parents—made me feel empty and incredibly lonely.

“No worries. I’ll let you get settled; dinner will be ready in an hour.” She left my room, closing the door gently behind her.

I sighed and flopped onto the bed, a wave of homesickness washing over me. Actually, it was more like a longing for my pre-werewolf life. I missed my old life so much it was painful.

I forced myself to get up and start unpacking my clothes and other belongings. I managed to stay focused until I heard shouting.

I walked over to my window and pushed it open, letting in a cool late-September breeze. Then, I heard a cry.

“Jude! Get back here!”

I watched as a girl with short blonde hair chased after a boy—who I assumed was Jude.

He was holding a small book, which I guessed was the girl’s diary.

“Try and catch me, Rach!” The boy—also blonde—shouted back. I watched as they ran past Aunt Sarah’s house. Then, they suddenly stopped.

They stood perfectly still, their nostrils flaring, and they turned to look at each other, fear etched on their faces.

Then the boy turned and looked straight at me, as if he’d known I was there the whole time.

His brown eyes narrowed. Then they were gone, sprinting toward the mansion. They disappeared from sight in no time.

I was rooted to the spot, stunned by the bizarre events.

I forced myself to move, to close the curtains and step away from the window. I turned around and took a deep breath, trying to erase the looks on their faces from my mind.

It almost seemed as if they had…smelled me? The only explanation stirred a mix of fear and hope in my chest.

I squashed the thought. I couldn’t let that idea take hold; it would only lead to disappointment.

“Haven! Dinner!” Aunt Sarah called. I shook my head to clear it and headed down the hall to the kitchen.

She was bustling around, trying to put the finishing touches on the meal.

It looked like we were supposed to be having spaghetti and meatballs, but the smell coming from the stove suggested otherwise.

I took a deep breath and smelled burnt noodles. “Um, Aunt Sarah? Do you need help?”

She glanced at me over her shoulder, looking frazzled.

Her short black hair was sticking up on one side as she raised her oven mitt-clad hands in the air in a gesture of defeat.

“Oh, Haven! I tried to make a nice dinner, but I’m a terrible cook! The noodles got stuck to the pot so I added butter to try and loosen them but the butter just melted and then burned.”

She shook her head. “And I can’t figure out how the meatballs are burned on the outside, yet raw on the inside! Oh, I’m sorry, dear. Is pizza okay?”

I grinned. “Pizza is perfect.”

I helped my aunt clean up the mess, and by the time we were done the pizza had arrived.

I went to the door and pulled it open; the boy holding the pizza gave me a cocky grin.

I just took a deep breath and paid him—no tip for ogling me. I closed the door and carried the pizza to the table, where my aunt and I immediately dug in.

“I guess I’ll have to do the cooking around here,” I said, taking a big bite of my mushroom pizza.

She blushed. “You don’t have to do that, Haven, dear, I’ll just take a few classes and—”

“No really, I don’t mind at all,” I smiled. “I’m actually kind of good at it.”

My aunt grinned, clearly relieved. “That would be wonderful, I’ve been living off of microwave meals, pizza, and Chinese takeout for years!”

I could picture that. A younger, more determined version of my aunt surrounded by a sea of take-out containers as she studied for her law exams.

I chuckled. “Well, that ends today. From tomorrow, we’ll mix it up with takeout and home-cooked meals.”

We polished off the pizza—yes, the whole thing—and cleaned up the dishes before Aunt Sarah called it a night.

“Don’t stay up too late, Haven. You’ve got school tomorrow.”

I gave her a reassuring smile and nod. She seemed satisfied, planted a kiss on my forehead, and vanished upstairs.

I decided to kill some time with TV, settling on a random show from a streaming service we didn’t have back in Pennsylvania.

I had this eerie feeling of being watched. I glanced towards the window.

Aunt Sarah’s house didn’t have a backyard. It was right up against the forest.

I was almost certain I saw a pair of eyes staring at me from the woods, but when I blinked, they were gone.

Once again, my mind clung to that same desperate hope—that I wasn’t alone.

I tried to shake off the feeling, but I was too rattled to continue watching TV. I switched it off and headed to my room.

The moment my head hit the pillow, I was out like a light.