The Dance of Wolves

I stomp off to my room, pissed.

I can’t believe this bastard asked me all these deeply personal questions without so much as a ‘hi, how are you?’ I thought he’d be charming. He really isn’t as good as he looks. There is no way we could be mates; we’re like oil and water, sugar and grits, acting and reality shows.

Then, there were the eyes... Just casually sitting next to him, I felt there were more eyes on us than in my floccinaucinihilipilification of this whole worthless exchange. My back actually itched. If glares were daggers...I trembled at the memory of the sensation.

“Alma, you have horrible taste. We don’t need that guy. Won’t it be fine with just me?”

“I was so focused on Demi, I didn’t pay attention to his human side. I thought you were attracted to him?” She says dreamily. Ugh! Really, Alma? Also, wolves can swoon?

“I admit I was, but then he opened his mouth.”

I’m back in the small office they gave me with my promotion to tracker-scout. I turned the place into an efficiency apartment with a taupe pull-out sofa, a white, dorm-sized fridge, and a portable kitchen cart for essential pantry items that had space enough for a small microwave, coffee maker, some cookware, and toaster oven. I strip off my tux and shift. Fortunately, our packhouse doors come equipped with service dog tools--a handle sleeve and strap we can use with our canines in wolf form. I don’t want to see Amal, let alone talk to him. I let Alma take the lead and retreat back, sullenly--way back in our shared mental space.

“I can tell from what you’re feeling he didn’t make a great impression. Please try to get along for me. I need to be by Demi’s side. Please, he is the missing part of my soul, Aksal.” There is a desperate ache in her voice as Alma tells me this.

I can’t deny her anything, even if it breaks my heart.

***

Not surprisingly, he showed up out front without shifting. Dumbass. Why would we give him fifteen minutes if we weren’t going to shift? If I wanted to leave my tux on we could have simply walked outside right then. Alma side-swipes him playfully and Amal transforms into Demi. His clothes just...vanish. How did he do that?

Alma and Demi are like pups, darting back and forth, chasing each other and pouncing, rolling around without a care and barking occasionally.

It’s a long night. I leave it all up to Alma and let my consciousness fall into a comfortable darkness. I dream.

This dream is so strange, I feel like I’m an observer, not a participant. I see a large, grey, male wolf enter a glade. He shifts into a human with mixed Native American features and takes an apple off a nearby tree then sits down, cross-legged to eat the fruit. A curious barn owl looks on.

A beautiful young woman with eyes like sea beans and tanned skin that shimmered like sand on the shore in the summer sun appeared in a gentle breeze that decided to take form and present itself as human. The man and woman sit and talk, laugh, and at times just enjoy each other’s company in silence.

“If you don’t find your mate, would you consider choosing me, Demetrius?”

The young man pauses as he thinks carefully of a response. “Kitsa, I value your friendship more than anything but you know I want to find my true mate, no matter how long it takes. I’m…sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Demetrius, I understand the importance of true mates. Even Mother said the only way to get out of this union with Lord Baron was to find my true mate. The problem is that unlike you I have a deadline. Mother wants to retire and she wants me to take over as queen as soon as possible and also breed an heir. She says she wants to see her grandchild before she goes.”

“Kitsa, you have to try to talk to her again. You have sixteen sisters, there is no lack of successors if something happened to you. Perhaps there is another reason why she wants you to bond with him? Until you know, it will be difficult to negotiate alternatives with her,” Demi says reasonably.

It’s nearly dawn in this dream and I watch as the two friends hug and the man waves, finally, Kitsa disappears back into the wind. The barn owl flies to a nearby boulder shortly after. It’s a beautiful bird with a white face and soft-feathered underbelly that resembles fine fur; its gold and tawny flecks of color along its wings seem somehow familiar.

“Well, that looks easy enough.” I hear her mumble to herself. She flaps her wings as if she is about to take flight but instead she shifts into a beautiful young woman with dark black hair and red-brown skin. She touches her face and marvels at the feel of her skin and the feel of her fingertips. She takes a few hesitant steps as she gets acquainted with walking on two legs.

“Not bad me,” She congratulates herself. I’m pretty impressed as well, but owls are known for their ancient knowledge and the wisdom on how to use it. I wasn’t aware there were owl shifters out there but, the world is a large place. The young woman kneels down on all fours and transforms into a wolf. It’s unmistakably Alma in her wolf form.

Alma explores the forest in this form for a while, but by mid-day she’s ready to take a rest on the branches of some tall tree with lots of shade. She struggles to remember how to shift back into an owl. She manages to shift into a creature with the hind legs of a wolf and the wings and head of a bird, but fails to fully transform into an owl. Tired and shaky, she easily transforms into a human, climbs the tree and naps.

At nightfall, Demetrius is back in the forest as a wolf. He sniffs the air as if he is focused on a certain scent. He paws at the ground in frustration; he’s lost track of it somewhere around this tree. He shifts into a human and attempts to climb it when he sees Alma sitting leisurely on a limb with her legs stretched out. He wakes her with a gentle kiss and looks into her eyes. “Mate.”

She’s startled and falls out of the tree, but he was there at the bottom quicker than lightning to catch her and bring her feet to the ground safely.

“Th-thank you,” she blushes and looks away shyly, looking adorable.

“What is your name, mate?” His voice is deep and tender. He tilts his head and his eyebrows knit together as he studies her, waiting for her answer.

“Ah, my name is Alma.”

The young man caresses her chin and tilts it up so that he could see her eyes, “My name is Demetrius, it's nice to meet you Alma.”

“I know who you are, I've always been watching you,” Alma responds, then a light shines behind her eyes like an epiphany. “Oh! Yes, I saw you change your shape many times. Today, I learned how to do it myself, but now I can’t shift back. I’m tired of being bound to the earth, I want to fly.” She explains that she is supposed to be an owl.

“I’m sorry Alma, I don’t know how to teach you to shift back into an owl, but if you’ll let me I can show you other ways to fly.” They both shift back into wolf form and together they are like wind and water flowing through the forest, making their own paths and strengthening their bond.

I see Demetrius take Alma back to his pack where she is welcomed and accepted with open arms. It is not long before Demetrius asks her to complete the mating rite and accept each other’s marks. Alma happily agrees. They make love by the lake and I blush when I see it and I close my eyes to give them privacy.

When the dream deepens, I see Demetrius and Alma in a forest, though different from the one before; their padded feet leave a trail in the snow. This time they brought clothes with them for the shift. He calls out to the wind for his friend and Kitsa comes to see them.

Kitsa looks…I’m not sure how to describe it. She is as beautiful as ever in a flowing gown the color of the light of the blue moon sparkling on crystal. This time her skin is as pale and colorless as the moon. She smiles at her best friend’s happiness and embraces Alma but her smile does not reach her eyes. Demetrius notices the change too and asks Alma for a moment alone with Kitsa.

I can’t make out what they are talking about, probably because Alma can’t hear them either...I’m convinced that these are Alma’s memories of a past life since she is the only constant in the scenes.

Kitsa turns away from Demetrius when he attempts to hold and comfort her. She hugs her arms to herself instead. Teardrops fall and freeze into snowflakes the moment they slide off her cheek and she whisks herself away.

I can’t help but wonder what was said; that is Demi’s story to tell.

***

It’s cold. One of those days where I don’t want to open my eyes and officially wake up, despite the warm rays of sunlight caressing my face. I reach for my blanket and grasp at thin air. Nothing is there. Wait what--?

“Umm.” I hear the voice of someone stirring next to me. I shoot up out of bed. His scent fills my nose and muddles my brain. I can’t get enough of it. Now I know who is sharing my bed. I just don’t know why.

It’s the hot guy from last night. I’ve already forgotten his name. “What are you doing here in my room?” I’m more than a little irritated that he hogged all the covers and that he looks utterly perfect. My bedhead has half my hair in a curly, lopsided mullet and I scramble for my shower cap. I don’t have a bathroom in my office but there is a shared shower in the packhouse. I throw a towel over my shoulder and place my shower bucket that contains my toothbrush, toothpaste soap, and scrubber by the door.

He’s still not awake so I kick the back of the sofa bed. “Hey, you! Wake up!”

“It’s not ‘hey you', I’m your mate,” he says languidly. “Call me Amal. Given your wolf’s name, is mine so hard to remember?” Yeah, I know it’s a word scramble, I just don’t care. He turns on his side and props his head up over his elbow. I get the full view of his well-defined torso. Yum. What the hell am I thinking?

Trying not to stare, I turn around and get my coffee maker started with bottled water from the fridge. While picking up my dress clothes and putting them on hangers, I remember meeting him at the garden and letting Alma take the lead. I remember a strange dream about her being an owl. I have no memory of coming back here, however. Did he see me transform? At that moment, I realize I’m standing naked before him. His eyes travel down my body, more from curiosity than desire. Yep, he saw it. I wrap the towel around my body.

“Oh right, Amal. Didn’t you say something about it all being a mistake? Perhaps you mistook this room for your own. Please go find it before I get back.”

___

A/N In case you were wondering, floccinaucinihilipilification is the action or habit of estimating something as worthless. It has nine ’i’s in it, though I'm sure more than nine people were jealous of the attention Aksal was getting from Amal.