Magical wolf town comple.., p.5
Magical Wolf Town Complete Series, page 5
"But it's good for us. If Owen proves himself to be a good alpha, they will follow him—and you know what they say."
"A big family is a strong family," Carter says absentmindedly and with a thoughtful frown.
"Exactly.” Gray nods and turns to me, as calm as ever. “Are you going to them again?"
"Yeah, but first, I have to…" Clear out the mess with Asya. "Have some rest and figure out how to live here. Have you found a job?"
They have. Carter excitedly talks about his position as a clerk at the local camping gear store while Gray just mentions that he has taken a position at an auto repair shop. We talk about their work and first impressions of the town folk for a bit more—while I try to figure out where I can find a place for myself—before Gray gets up to leave and we all kind of bid each other goodnight.
Despite the exhaustion of the last few days, I don’t fall asleep right away. Partially, it has to do with Carter who keeps watching something on his phone and giggling to himself—but mostly, it’s the thoughts about Asya that don’t let me go. Was she scared of me? Is she gonna tell everyone by morning? Shit, she could be calling the motel manager right now as I think about it, and I automatically listen to the noises from outside. But everything is as quiet as it can be next to a highway.
Okay, maybe I’m safe for now—but how long is it gonna last? What’s in her mind, and what am I supposed to do with it? I remain restless for a long time, longer than Carter’s snickers and the buzz of cars from outside, but the physical exhaustion takes over and I don’t even realize I’ve fallen asleep until the sun wakes me up from behind the open curtains.
As I lie in bed staring at the ceiling and mindlessly scratching my neck, the answer finally comes to me: I have to talk to Asya first. Just talk to her and explain what has happened. If she’s aware that she’s a witch, there should be no problems with revealing that I am a shapeshifter. If not… Well, then it may be a problem—but she couldn’t have missed the burst of her own magic, and it should give her a hint, right? From there, I can find a way to talk her into staying quiet.
Carter and Gray leave early for their shifts, and as soon as they are out of sight, I gather myself and hurry across the street to the bright colors of Till Dawn. Large windows let in plenty of sunlight from the valley, and the diner looks way prettier than I remember it, with the smell of fried eggs and toast in the air and sleepy truckers sipping on their coffee. Rorie is sitting by the counter with a cup of her own coffee and smiling at Abel on the other side, but as soon as the doorbell rings, she perks up—and greets me with a look of confusion.
“Oh, hey, Owen.” Abel turns to me with surprised eyes and holds out his hand while I exchange greeting nods with Rorie. “When did you come back?”
“Last night.” I shake his hand and glance between them. “Carter said you were busy.”
“Yeah, I was.” Abel grins and glances at Rorie, who flushes a shade of pink and gives him a glare before turning to me with the same displeased look.
“Anything for you, Owen?”
“Yes, Americano. And where is Asya?” It doesn’t come out very subtle, but what can I say, I’ve never been a delicate kind of person. Rorie eyes me with surprise, but it is Abel who answers me, probably not as clear-sighted as his mate.
“She’ll come for the afternoon shift. Around five, yes?” He turns to Rorie and she nods, albeit reluctantly.
“Yeah. Why are you asking, though?” There is a hint of suspicion in her voice as she squints at me and well, I guess I deserve it. “I don’t think she’ll be happy to talk to you.”
Oh, trust me, I know. But should I tell them everything? I have only a moment to decide—before I shrug and pretend to be careless. “It’s nothing. Just, you know, I wanted to make a better first impression.”
I smile awkwardly, cursing myself when Rorie raises her eyebrows in surprise and Abel snickers. So now I have to pretend like I’m interested in Asya. Damn awesome. But as much as I trust Abel, I don’t want to talk about it even with him, not to mention Rorie who I’m seeing for only the second time in my life. It was me who messed up, so I want to deal with it without anyone knowing.
Chapter 7 - Asya
It’s already dark behind the window, the night long passing midnight, but I can’t force myself to close my eyes and fall asleep. My thoughts are bouncing from one side to the other and I just keep staring blankly at the book I had been reading earlier today. I can't find it in myself to keep reading about mythological beings and giant wolves because… They can’t be real, right? They can’t be.
I probably had a hallucination or something. I’ve read too much, worked too much, and my mind made up something that wasn’t there at all. Huge silver wolves turning into men cannot exist, not in this reality.
I keep saying it to myself again and again—but the tingling sensation under my skin reminds me that it was real. It hasn’t disappeared ever since the flash of light burst through my hands. In fact, it only became clearer as the evening passed by. I couldn’t sit still at the dining table—I ordered pizza in the end because my hands were too shaky to cook anything better than burned toast—and Grandma asked a few times if I was okay.
Of course, I wasn’t okay. I’m not okay even now as I sit in my bed, wrapped up in my blankets and with Teddy snoring next to me. Something has changed in my body, a sensation like the shimmer of electricity quivering under my skin. I even look at my hands, expecting them to light up again, to glow like they did hours ago—but nothing happens.
Somehow, it makes me even more nervous. What if I’m losing my mind?
I snuggle closer to the wall, wrap the blankets tighter around my shoulders, and stare at the window where the pale moonlight is resting on the window sill. My chest is tight with anxiousness, and I curl my hands into fists at every noise from outside. What if the wolf decided to follow me here? What if everything is just a bad dream? I stay awake for a long time, but in the end the rush of adrenaline wears off and I pass out against the wall.
I wake up with Teddy’s tongue on my nose and the muffled light of my bed lamp. Teddy Bear doesn’t give a damn about the wolf anymore and stomps over my bed and body to snuggle by my side. He makes me smile first thing in the morning, and I reach out to pet him—before I fully come back to my senses and realize that the sensation is still there. Like an invisible flow of energy from my toes to the tips of my fingers.
So it wasn’t a dream. Okay. The only thing left is to make sure I’m not insane—and no matter how much I hate to admit it, it looks like I have to talk to Owen. So I get up from my bed with a groan.
“Aren’t you going for a walk?” Grandma peeks out from the living room when, instead of going to the front door, I head straight to the kitchen with Teddy following me like a tail.
I flinch a little at the thought of going back to the woods—last night was more than enough, thank you very much—and turn to her. “No. I’m not feeling well, Gran.”
“Still?” She shakes her head in worry and walks closer, studying my face with a serious frown. “Asya, you have to be careful out there. Maybe something has bitten you?”
Yeah, almost. A goddamn werewolf or whatever it was.
Okay, so today I’m feeling more grumpy than scared, that’s an improvement. I frown over my scrambled eggs, mindlessly staring at them and thinking about last night’s encounter with a clearer mind. So, again, what the hell happened there? Was it really Owen? I recall the bright blue eyes and purse my lips. Yeah, there’s no one in or around the town who would have even remotely similar eye color.
Alright, so if the wolf was Owen, then why did he come to me? And if it wasn’t, then what on earth was Owen doing there? I didn’t see the transformation clearly, but damn, he couldn’t have run over and scared the wolf away so quickly, right? God, my head starts to ache from all the questions without answers.
For a few minutes, I wonder if I should share this with someone else. But who can I talk to? Grandma? Rorie? Abel? I hum. Yes, Abel would have at least some of the answers—he is Owen’s cousin, after all. But what if he decides that I’m crazy? Honestly, the story would sound insane even to me. Meeting a giant wolf that turns out to be a hot man—isn’t that a story straight from a movie screen?
On the other hand, even if Abel or anyone else did believe me—or at least, the part with a gorgeous silver wolf running near Raywald—wouldn’t they organize a hunting party? There are a few hunters in the town, and just a single word about the wolf could put him in danger. And maybe I don’t like Owen but not that much, okay?
Eventually, I stop caring about Owen and the wolf and focus on the sensation running through my body. After breakfast, I lock myself up in my room and try to figure out what it is and what I can do with it. If it’s the remnants of the flash of light from last night, then surely I can pull out at least a single sparkle from my hands.
I try everything that comes to mind: swaying hands in every direction, thinking hard about the wolf, wiggling my fingers, and concentrating on the sensation with all my might. I even stare at myself in the mirror, hoping to catch any kind of glow or sparkle on my body or in my eyes.
Nothing works, and in the end I give up on the attempts to understand it on my own and reach for the almighty internet. But no matter how many times I change the wording and how many pages I scroll through, all I get is a list of fantasy books and movies and a bunch of videos with poor special effects. Yeah, very helpful. I even read through a forum about paranormal activities only to realize half an hour later that it’s a gathering of movie fans.
But I have to admit that after last night, I look at the stories about the supernatural with fresh eyes. I even end up watching a movie with a description that sounds a little like my situation. It turns out to be a low-budget fantasy drama that only wastes my time—but at least it distracts me from the nervous thoughts. The possibility of me being crazy grows with every passing hour.
I have another evening shift today, so I arrive at Till Dawn around five and well, I should’ve figured, right? I should’ve known Owen would be looking for me as well. But it occurs to me only when Rorie gestures for me to come closer and murmurs with a teasing smirk, “Do you know who’s been asking about you?”
Yeah, I think I’ve figured—but out loud, I only ask with a curious frown, “Who?”
“Owen,” Rorie announces with a chuckle, and I give her my best look of surprise. “Looks like someone’s laid an eye on you. Maybe you reconsider your opinion about him?”
I think about the huge, growling wolf and swallow, mustering as much of a careless smile as I can. Reconsider? Yeah, sure, why not.
But when Owen walks into the diner some half an hour after the start of my shift, I can’t help a flash of fear at the sight of him. Last time I saw those blue eyes they were staring at me with unnatural bright light. Our gazes meet, and I can see how Owen pauses in his tracks, probably noticing my panic. But instead of going straight to me, he turns to take a seat at an empty booth.
Is he giving me time to collect myself? What a gentleman. But Owen is one of the customers now, so I can’t avoid him forever. After a few minutes of multiple excuses, I take a deep breath and walk over to him.
“Are you ready to order?” I ask with a stiff smile, holding up my notepad like a shield. To my surprise, Owen doesn’t try to catch my gaze and focuses on the menu with a calm nod.
“Yes. Cola, pepperoni, and we need to talk.”
Here we go. I purse my lips. He doesn’t expect me to give up so easily, does he?
“Sorry, we only have Hawaiian pizza left.”
What a joy it is to see Owen scrunch his nose in distaste and look through the menu again. “Anything without pineapples?”
“Nothing.”
He looks up at me with suspicion, and I shrug. Did I answer too fast? Maybe. I don’t care enough about his tastes to check with Sam, and I guess Owen knows that. He quirks an eyebrow, and I see irritation building up in him again—but this time, he only huffs and looks at the menu again.
“Then bacon cheeseburger. And what about that talk?”
“I will let you know when I’m ready.” I give him a quick and empty smile and turn away, enjoying the way he scoffs again behind me.
Whenever I glance at him from behind the counter, Owen isn’t looking at me, but his scowl is grim and his frame is tense. He does look like a grumpy wolf, to be honest, but for some reason it doesn’t scare me. It makes me smile instead.
But no matter how much fun it is to tease him, I have to admit that Owen is the only person I can honestly talk to right now. With the rush of work, I can ignore the glow of energy in my veins—but it is still there, and I still don’t know what to do with it. So when his order is ready, I bring it to him without the fake smile.
“Enjoy your meal. And I finish at eleven—come pick me up if it’s not too late for you.”
Owen’s eyes widen in surprise, but a moment later his expression is back to being calm and collected. He nods. “Okay.” I turn away to leave, not expecting more from him, but Owen clears his throat then and adds, “Thanks.”
I can’t help a surprised glance his way. When did he learn how to be nice to me? It’s a pleasant surprise, even though the miracle doesn't last long. Owen doesn't even look at me for the rest of his meal and afterward leaves without a word—but I count it as a baby step toward a proper conversation. Good job!
I try not to think about our meeting for the rest of my shift, but it’s hard, especially when there aren’t that many customers to distract me. Should I get ready for it somehow? Should I prepare a list of questions or something? There have been so many of them, but the closer it gets to the end of my shift, the weirder they sound in my head. Maybe I did see things that weren’t there after all, and Owen just wants to tell me I'm insane.
By the time I pass the shift over to Mrs. Silva—a lovely woman who usually stays for the night at Till Dawn—and leave the diner, I’m too tired to care about what we are going to talk about. Maybe Owen even forgot about the meetup? I linger in front of Till Dawn, just a little bit hopeful that I wouldn’t have to talk to him—but no, I quickly spot him in the shadows of the trees growing near the parking lot. Ah, how nice would it be to be picked up after work by a guy like that—-if only it wasn’t for the circumstances.
“Do you always sneak up on girls in the dark?” I say instead of a greeting, walking closer to him. It was supposed to be a joke, but with the glance Owen gives me, I remember our meeting last night and clear my throat awkwardly. Okay, it wasn’t a good one.
Owen doesn’t comment and doesn’t greet me either. He looks at the lights of the diner behind me and frowns. “Do you want to talk here?”
I look around and hum, catching the bright interior of Till Dawn through the big windows. Yeah, it’s definitely not the best place for sharing possibly insane secrets. Usually, I would offer a walk in the woods, but uh, no, not this time.
“There’s a square on my way home,” I say after a moment of thought and nod at the street leading up and into the town. “Have you seen it? It must be empty at this time of the day.”
It’s not a square really, not what you would imagine at least. In reality, it’s a small empty square place in the middle of Raywald with a few flowering trees and benches around the perimeter and a small fountain in the center. It’s empty most of the time—people gather there only for occasional festivals and fair days—but at least it makes the center of Raywald pretty from the inside.
Owen doesn’t even look where I’m pointing and simply nods. “Yeah, okay.”
“I’m driving.”
“Okay.”
Oh come on, does he even know any other words? I have an inkling that Owen is doing it just to annoy me because his cold expression doesn’t even falter as we speak, his indifferent tone sounding mocking to my ears. He simply looks at me as if waiting for directions, and it is annoying—but I purse my lips and ignore how warm my cheeks are under his gaze, turning away to my car. What is the point of spoiling the conversation before it’s even started?
We drive to Raywald Square (yeah, it has a name, can you imagine?) in silence, and my thoughts automatically return to the encounter in the woods. God, who is even sitting in the car with me? I can’t help myself and glance at him a few times, clutching the wheel and struggling to hide my nervousness. I don’t know if Owen notices—he just keeps staring through the windshield with a blank expression until we arrive. Even then, he doesn’t look at me and gets out of the car already scanning our surroundings.
The square turns out to be only partially empty—there are a few local teenagers listening to music and laughing every few minutes and a group of truckers resting with beers in their hands. I catch a few glances as Owen guides me toward one of the darker corners, the one under a magnolia tree and far from the lamps. I can only imagine what they think of us, but at least the buzz of their conversations will muffle the secrets of ours.
“Are you going to tell anyone about what happened last night?” Owen asks as soon as we settle, and I blink at him in surprise. Such straightforwardness is almost admirable but damn, didn’t he think about giving me a moment to gather my thoughts?
"It depends on what I'm supposed to tell,” I say after a moment, frowning in deep thought and finally allowing myself to speak my mind. “Because honestly? I have no idea what happened."
Owen says nothing for a long minute, and when I glance at him I see that his frame is tense and his eyes are grim, staring into the distance. He notices my gaze on him perhaps, because Owen turns to me before I have the time to look away. Our eyes meet—and the glow under my skin gets clearer.
“Do you know who I am?”
"Owen. Abel's cousin. A new guy in town." I shrug, trying to keep the nervous tremble out of my voice. "That's all I know well enough to understand. Also, apparently, you can turn into a damn wolf—and that's where my understanding comes to an end."
Okay, it comes out a little hysterical, but can you blame me, really? Even Owen hums and nods slowly, and the amount of calm patience in his voice is a pleasant surprise. “Do you know anything about people who are not…just humans?”
