The wintry mix is nothing compared to the iciness in my heart. After some serious thought on the situation, my mom decides not to move, even temporarily. I don’t resent it, much. This new lifestyle is hard to explain and impossible for her to partake in. We’ve never had a close relationship, but I still need time to process her reaction.
Tim doesn’t know that it’s taken weeks of persuading and threatening to get my mom to be here for his first transition. Part of me fears she’ll change her mind and let both of us down.
"This is the place," I ask Adam as the car turns down a side road.
It’s an amazing Tudor style house set against the lake. It looks straight out of a story book. Whoever owned the house took pride in the property, turning it into a small masterpiece.
Adam grins while putting the car in park. It takes everything I have to keep his gaze compared to staring at my new home. The pack decided to gift Tim and I an all-expense-paid, temporary house near the lake while we learn about pack life. It’s a stone’s throw from the lodge.
"Who lived here," I ask, nose pressed to the windows.
"My father. He built it long before the lodge," Adam says turning the lock and leading me into the house, "But no one has lived here in years."
My mom’s home could fit into the first floor. Wood beams adorn the ceiling, beautiful wooden floors echo with our steps and ornamentations decorate the windows. The house has a rich wood smell. The place feels old and even with the size, has a coziness about it.
"When was it built?"
"Around the turn of the century.”
"What?"
"It might be a few years younger or maybe older," Adam answers shrugging while we walk up the creaky stairs.
"Your father built it," I ask, my brows knitting as I try to calculate the numbers.
"That's right. You don't know," Adam says entering my bedroom, the only completely furnished room on this floor.
"You don't get to make a statement like that and then stop talking," I reply, sitting in the chair across from the bed.
He walks around, glancing out the windows and avoiding the question. Pursing my lips, it takes everything I have not to repeat my question.
"It seems strange to me," He comments leaning forward so his hand can stroke the side of my face, "I have a hard time wrapping my head around the idea that you’re barely in your twenties. You’re just a baby."
"You aren't much older than I am," I reply pulling my face from his hand, "I still don't understand."
Adam turns, taking off his jacket before rolling up his sleeves. The anticipation is killing me.
“Wolves age slower than humans.”
"How much slower?"
"A lot slower," He answers, "I'm eighty three."
A hearty laugh escapes before I can stop it. At that rate, Adam and my grandfather could have been school chums. I feel a little disgusted by my infatuation if it isn't a lie.
"It’s not uncommon for us to live three or four hundred years. Johnnie just broke the three hundred mark about ten years ago."
"You're serious," I ask, the laugh catching in my throat.He nods. No one thought to mention this small detail. I’m going to grow old and die faster than every person in the pack.
"What are you thinking about," Adam asks before I can stop my jaw from trembling.
"Nothing," How do I express what I’m thinking when I don't really know myself.
Adam kneels in front of me, "You aren’t the first to go through this. Others in your position aged slower after transitioning. Not as slow as a wolf but slow enough that there isn’t much of a difference.”
It doesn't make me feel any better. I’m now a wolf and will live hundreds of years after my family and friends die. Before I transitioned the first time, I should have been given this information. It isn’t right that no one said anything.
"Is that why Sarah made the comment that she is too young for marriage," I ask remembering the conversation.
I couldn't understand why she thought herself too young. Many of my friends are already married. Some have children.
"Sarah is about sixty-five. Most women wait until they’re almost a hundred.”
"So you could get married in the next ten years," I ask realizing the strangeness of this conservation.
I couldn't image having almost a century to live before settling down. How time must crawl for these people.
"Men wait a little longer. As the Alpha, I’ll wait longer than most,” Adam truthfully answers before pausing to study my face, “If I meet someone special, I’d be willing to settle much earlier.”
"This is weird," I say climbing from the chair and walking to the other bedrooms with Adam following behind me, "Why do you age so slow?"
Adam’s face contorts as he thinks about the question. I guess we could reverse it and he could ask why I age so quick. I wouldn't have an answer.
“How do you keep your age a secret at work?”
The pack works in a variety of occupations. Someone will notice when decades pass and they still look the same.
Adam smiles, trickery in his eyes, “My brothers and I rotate control of the company. A few years ago, I took over from my younger brother. When it’s time, one of them will take my spot.”
“That explains part of it but you don’t age. That’s hard to hide.”
“We’re eccentric and elusive and when we get older, we remove ourselves from the day-to-day operations. It’s something we’ve perfected over the years.”
“How long has Sarah owned her shop,” I ask not as impressed with her bath product empire.
“About ten years. We all play the game, Addie. We’ll show you how when it’s time.”
My mind works through more questions as we explore the rooms, “Is this part of the risk Johnnie mentioned? The reason you want Tim and I to decide if we tell the rest of our family?”
Adam nods, “That’s part of it.”
Each step I take echoes in the empty room. He willingly answers any question but I’m not sure what to ask.
“If you were me, would you have made the same choice?”
Adam’s mouth opens before closing. Hurt contorts his features before his stoic expression returns.
“Why didn’t you share any of this with me before I transitioned,” My voice cracks with the question.
If Tim can’t change, I will be isolated from everyone. It isn’t even the potential death that I fear, it’s what life will be like in forty years. I’ll still be young and everyone I know will be old or dead. I’m beginning to understand why others like me feel jilted.
The sound of moving trucks interrupts our conversation as my mom pulls her car in front of the house, with my brother pulling his truck and an attached U-Haul into the driveway. As soon as the cars stop, it looks like a pack of wolves descending on their pray as a swarm of them move from the woods. Many of them change forms. My mom quickly steps away as her eyes move from one naked person to the next. The scent of fear fills my nostrils.
"I packed a closet on the first floor with different size clothing," Adam says noticing my astonishment at the naked people eagerly jumping into the back of the moving truck to grab boxes.
Adam stops me on the stairs. I don’t want to turn to face him. I’m about to explode.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you everything,” Adam begins, his long lashes actually block his downcast eyes, “I wanted you to join us. I didn’t want you to know anything that might change your mind.”
“That’s not fair.”
I should have asked more questions. I should have done my due diligence and waited until I understood the consequences.
He tries to speak but I can’t listen to any more of his words. Instead, I put on a happy smile and greet my family.
"When is the full moon," My brother asks watching one person practically run into the house with a washer on his back.
All wolves possess an immense amount of strength. I’m stronger than my brother but all of that will change as soon as he transitions.
"Tomorrow night," Adam answers, ignoring my expression as he grabs boxes.
Part of helping is just to occupy myself as I think about all the secrets I learned today. Adam keeps his distance. Even Sarah can tell something is up when her and Isaac show up to deliver a dining room table.
“Where are you going,” My mom asks, a half-eaten piece of pizza drooping in her hand.
“For a run,” I answer as Adam follows me to the door.
“Ohh, ok.”
She’s been jumpy all day and although my mom has been very nice, something’s not right, just under the skin. My mom’s in the window after I transition. Her heart pounds, even from the distance I can’t get it out of my ears. She’s afraid of me. Adam pushes into me, encouraging me to go and I take off towards the woods.
Sarah’s scent floods the path. Sprinting forward, I chase after her and the scent of an unfamiliar wolf.
Sarah and the stranger shift at the lodge. With one paw in the air, I gape at the guy. Everything about him screams strength and beauty. My eyes refuse to blink and blot out the image of him. This has to be Sam.
A nip at my side pulls me out of my daze. Adam nudges me forward but as I turn back to Sam, I can't seem to move. After everything I heard, I would still take the time to get to know him better.
Adam snips again. Sam smirks, racking his eyes over me as I turn back and forth between him and Adam. Compared to Sam, Adam appears plain. I remember when I thought he resembled a Roman god.
"It’s a good idea for you to stay with Addie tonight," Sarah comments, "I could feel her temperature rising during the run. I'll see you at the bonfire."
They head inside. Adam not only nudges me but bites me before throwing his whole weight against me. During the run, my mind replays images of Sam. Adam turns and opens the door with me racing up the stairs to the bedroom.
My clothes are on before he walks in with a pair of basketball shorts. One of us should speak but I feel awkward and he seems agitated.
"Now you see what I meant about Sam," Adam finally declares climbing into bed and patting the spot next to him.
I’ve spent the past few months sleeping next to Adam. It feels very normal, but right now, it’s the strangest thing for me to do. Cautiously sliding into bed, my mind turns to mush.
"I... he... it....hmmm. Let me try this again. I now understand why Sarah has a crush on him," I say and for a split second feel a tinge of jealousy as I remember that she kissed those perfect lips, "He definitely won the genetic lottery."
Adam chuckles, "It's ok to be attracted to him. Just remember, he has an extra eighty years on you."
"He's older than you," I say the disgust seeping over each word.
Not only is he older than my grandfather but could be friends with my great grandfather. That fact doesn’t stop me from thinking of everything I want to do with him.
"His goal is to make the white wolf another notch on his bedpost."
The comment freezes me halfway into the sheets. Adam is never mean to me but this comment is a little cruel of him.
"What happens after he makes me his trophy?”
"It depends on the girl. He'll keep you for a while, until he can show everyone that he has had you."
"Show?"
"We've all seen him with his conquest," Adam answers each word laced with a hint of anger.
It comes as no surprise that he’s a disgusting pig. Even with the warnings, I’m still curiously attracted to him.Tucked into the sheets, I can’t keep my thoughts to myself, “I’m telling Tim about the aging and everything else you thought best to hide from me.”
The silence presses into the room, “That’s fair.”
#
Slowly waking, Adam’s arm wraps tightly against me. Most mornings, I find myself in similar positions but unlike every other morning, I don’t care. The only thing on my mind is Sam. Gently untangling myself from him, I slip out of the room.
"Morning," My mom calls as I round the bottom of the steps, "Or is it good afternoon?"
The disapproval tangles into each word. It brings me back to past arguments when I brought boys back to her home. This situation is different. For one, this isn’t her house. Also, this isn’t sexual. I’d rank him up there with lifesaving medical equipment.
"Adam seems nice.”
I debate on telling her that Adam can hear every word. It might be more entertaining to wait.
"He is nice."
"And your boss," My mother questions, already judging while collapsing another empty box.
"If I ever return to the office," I tartly retort, realizing that it’s been months since I’ve worked.
"Are you...
"No," I practically spit.
I’ve had this conversation before. At my age, I really don’t need to rehash dating and safe sex practices with my mom.
"He keeps me alive. I wouldn't be surprised if someone stayed with Tim after he turned."
My mom eyes the box as her hands unwrap another of Tim’s items. Aggressive silence is normal between us, especially when my responses leave little room to build on the conversation.
"Where is Tim," I ask, no scent lingers anywhere in the house.
"Johnnie came early this morning," My mother replies sitting at the dining room table, "Do you think I should be there tonight?"
She’s been questioning the same thing since Christmas. It’s a different culture and she’ll never fully belong. She’s trying to push us away. I can see it, but I hope it takes Tim longer to recognize the truth.
"Why wouldn't you come," The words cut like knives before I can stop myself from starting an argument.
"You're right. What will happen," My mother patiently asks.
The memory haunts me. After the drink, there was only pain, lots of pain and fear, "I was drugged. I don't remember much.”
"Drugged?"
"I think it’s supposed to help," I explain still not knowing what was in the spiked juice.
"It calms the muscles," Adam chimes in, "Good day Tess, Addie."
Seeing Adam dressed in a fitted sweater, pants, and shoes makes me wonder how many of his own clothes he brought over. When he’s not around, I might have to see what he’s moved into the house.
"I think you should go ahead of us," I comment.
He looks around the room. My mom glowers, a silent warning that she’s doesn’t appreciate a man acting so casual after spending the night with her daughter. He tries to act solemn but his eyes dance with amusement. Adam nods, ignoring my mom’s dirty glances before walking the trail through the woods.
She takes her time bustling around the house. All I can do is bite my lip as she rearranges more of my things. We don’t have that much stuff. This is more than helping, it’s procrastinating.
During the car ride, I decide to broach a subject that always leads to arguments, "Could you tell me some stories about dad’s family?"
"What," my mother asks confused and already annoyed by the request.
“I don’t really remember dad. I was so young when he died and Tim doesn’t remember him at all. He’s a mystery to us,” I continue starting slowly.
After all these years, she still has problems talking about him. Her way of keeping him close is to shun any conversation.
“You know we met in college, but he never talked about his past. Even when we visited your grandparents, it was just small talk. Almost every family member died within a few years. It was a very hard time for all of us."
“I know,” I reply hearing the harshness in her voice.
The memory still pains me as I think of all the funerals I attended in those few short years. I was still too young to completely comprehend death. Modern medicine can only do so much against the many horrible illnesses in the world.
"I don’t think you’ll really learn anything. Some of his uncles might be alive," My mother begins reminding me that there could be countless family stories tucked deep in the minds of people I’ve never met.
Sarah greets us as I pull into the lodge’s long driveway. Her hand cups my ear, "What did you think about Sam?"
It’s hard not to smile as I think back to last night. The image of him slowly lurked into every thought I’ve had.
"It's ok if you think he’s attractive, everyone does," She continues, "You should put on a robe. If Tim has problems, they might have you help."
“Where’s Tim,” I ask needing to tell him everything before he isn’t given a choice.
“Tim knows. Adam explained everything. He’s still going through with it,” Sarah whispers her response.
Sarah leaves, taking my mother towards the bonfire as I head to the lodge. My mom glances back, apprehensive before Sarah’s bubbly personality puts her at ease.
Standing at the window, I stare down at the fire. The flames lap higher than the trees as hundreds of people stand around. I can’t find Tim in the crowd.
A fluffy robe lies on the bed of my old room. While I disrobe, someone enters the empty house. Everything inside tightens as Sam’s scent flows up the stairs. Ignoring the desire, I walk out of the room only to find him right in front of me.
"I thought Sarah might be in here," He voices with such an intense stare that my heart beats wildly.
"You knew she wasn't," I answer, trying my best to keep my guard up.
"You caught me. I really came to see the white wolf," He states, his hand trying to touch my face, "What would it take for that to come out?"
His lines aren't the best. It’s his intensity and the touch against my face that makes it hard to turn away. Without taking a step, he inches closer.
Quieting my mind as best as I can, I reply, "You’ll see one when my brother turns."
"Ohh-hhhooo," He replies, taking a step back while pretending to be insulted. "I get it," He says, taking a step closer, almost close enough for me to touch his rock-hard body.
I inch closer. My mind wanders as his smile broadens. His hand reaches for the belt before I turn and quickly walk down the stairs. This is going to be bad. He has eyes for me and there’s something about him I crave.
Johnnie hands Tim a drink from the animal container before I can get across the fire. I glare at Adam. It doesn’t matter if Sarah said that they talked to Tim. I wanted to speak to him myself. Adam avoids my gaze. It’s too late now. The damage is done. I’ll never forgive Adam if he didn’t do as I asked.
Tim moves erratically, becoming disorientated by the drink. People careful help him to the ground. A stupid expression forms while he stares at the sky. Did I look like that after I took the drink?
His entire body vibrates from the ground as sweat glistens from head to toe. He gapes in wide confusion at the fire. Jumping back, his hands cover his face, fearful of the illusion trying to attack him.
For hours, his body wriggles in strange positions while bones snap from the pressure. He yells out. Each leg bends and breaks before bending back in place. It’s hard to watch as my stomach flips each time one of the bones snaps. His heart beats wickedly as his temperature skyrockets.
"Addie," Johnnie calls through the crowd.
Racing towards my brother, I slide across the snowy ground as my arms reach him. My core yanks, like a taught rope. It binds, wrapping itself between Tim and myself. Opening my eyes, everything is white. The snow, fur, and sky. Why is the sky white? Blinking, the color slowly returns as the dark starless night holds my attention before my eyes set on the white of my brother.
He grumbles and unsuccessfully tries to stand for the first time. That tug is still there, grounding us to the wolf world.