Flashes

Flashes


Much against my will, we returned back down the mountain with I clasped on top of Trey’s back. To my surprise, he wasn’t being a dick about it. He actually allowed me to climb up, his large hands steadying me as I settled into place. His warmth seeped through my clothes, and despite my best efforts to keep my mind focused, my body quickly began to relax against him. 

The rhythmic motion of Trey’s steps combined with the overwhelming exhaustion from the climb worked against me. My eyelids fluttered, and soon, I found myself nodding off, the cold air no longer biting, but instead, replaced by the comforting heat of his skin beneath me. I tried to stay awake, tried to keep myself alert, but the warmth, combined with the exhaustion, made it hard to resist. I pressed my face into the back of his neck, the scent of him—musky, with hints of pine—overpowering everything else.

It wasn’t long before I felt my head sag, and I finally let sleep take over.

In the haze of sleep, I caught snippets of conversation between Trey and Mariamme. Their voices were low, the words slipping through the fog in my mind.

“We’ll need reinforcements soon,” Trey muttered, his voice surprisingly serious. “The rebel group’s starting to show too much. Alpha Zael’s already onto our ties with the army.”

Mariamme’s voice followed, soft but worried. “I know. But the woods... It's safer here. We’ll stay out of sight long enough to figure things out.”

“Rebel members are already on the edge. I try to keep them safe but Kael’s been put in charge of the operation. He’s not being lenient with it.”

I heard Mariamme gasp, “I’ll talk to him. Try to get him to come by before it’s too late... Maybe I can get him to drop it.”

I didn’t catch the rest of their conversation, my mind clouded by sleep, but the words lingered in my subconscious. Reinforcements? Rebels? The city? My heart fluttered, and my pulse quickened, though I couldn’t understand why. Something was happening—something big—and I had a feeling I was right in the middle of it.

Later in the afternoon, I woke up twisted in the sheet. I sat up in bed, sniffling, rubbing my fists into my eyes as I tried to take in my surroundings. The entire house was quiet, no sounds of pan clattering in the kitchen or Mariamme shuffling around the house. Or even the grating voice of Trey teasing me. I rolled to the side of the bed, sniffling, my nose burning from the cold. I noticed a cup of tea on the bedside stool, it must have been steaming hot when Mariamme dropped it but as I picked up and wrapped my fingers around the ceramic, it was as cold as a dog’s nose. 

My stomach growled and my fingers trembled with both hunger and cold as I lifted the cup to my mouth and took a long sip, smacking my lips together. I liked the taste of the tea Mariamme always prepared, bergamot, which tasted sweet. 

After endless slurps of the cold tea, I returned the mug into the coaster on the table. I swung my legs down and got out of bed, nearly swaying. I still couldn’t hear any sound in the house, quite unusual, I was starting to get bothered. I walked past the living room, straight towards the front door, my toes curling in my socks as I swung the front door open; the cold that burst inward caused me to involuntarily shudder. 

The sounds of growls reached me as I stepped onto the porch. Fire was burning in the clear opening in front of the cabin, the smoke spiralling into the air overhead. The smell of burning wood, pine and earthy scents invaded my nostril. From the distance, within the lines of the trees, I spotted a movement. My eyes stained, trying to pinpoint what I was seeing. Then the movement shifted, racing into the opening. 

My eyes widened. I shifted back into the house. A werewolf. More movements and then another, and another, more werewolves poured out from the forest, their playful howls tore through the evening. It wasn’t distant as I’d always hear them in the room at night. This time, they were close. Over eight if my brief scanning had been calculated right. They were majestic, not a rare sight for a girl who had lived between wolves her whole life, but this… this was beautiful. The playful banter between the werewolves as they jumped over one another in the air, as they landed on the snow with the whole of their weights, the ground near shaking beneath their sizes.  Playful. They weren’t hunting now; they were celebrating.

There were at least eight of them, by my rough count, and they moved with a kind of grace and power that was impossible to ignore. Their massive forms, fur glistening under the light of the fire, collided midair as they playfully leaped at each other. When they landed, the ground seemed to tremble beneath their weight. For a moment, I just stood there, transfixed. I’d grown up around wolves my whole life, but this—this was something different. Beautiful, even.

My gaze shifted to one wolf in particular—larger than the others, his dark fur catching the firelight in a way that made it shimmer. Trey. I recognized him instantly. Even in this form, his confidence was palpable. He moved with a casual dominance, unbothered by the others vying for attention. Typical.

From the treeline, another figure emerged, breaking the flow of fur and muscle. Mariamme. Unlike the rest, she was still in her human form, dragging an enormous antelope through the snow with ease. The contrast between her slender frame and the size of her catch was staggering. She made it look effortless, as if the antelope were no more than a sack of flour.

So, they’d gone hunting. Without me.

I stifled a laugh, fully aware of how useless I’d have been in the woods. With a shake of my head, I turned and hurried back inside to grab the winter coat I’d worn earlier that day and also slipped my feet into Mariamme’s boots perched by the door. By the time I returned, the group had shifted back into their human forms, their breath puffing visibly in the frigid air as they gathered around Mariamme’s prize.

Naturally, Trey was the first to notice me. His head tilted slightly as his sharp eyes locked onto mine, a smirk already forming on his lips. “Well, well,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery. “Look who decided to join us. Hello, human.”

I rolled my eyes, pulling the coat tighter around myself. “You’re still here?”

“Not just me,” he replied, gesturing to the group with a sweeping motion. “Allow me to introduce my brothers.”

I glanced at the men standing behind him. They were all tall, broad-shouldered, and carried the same kind of easy confidence Trey did. Shirtless, ripped knee length jeans. It was impossible to miss the resemblance. The sharp lines of their jaws, the intensity in their eyes—it was clear they were brothers. 

“Brothers?” I echoed, raising an eyebrow. “Do they also specialize in mocking strangers, or is that just your personal hobby?”

One of them, a man with sandy blond hair and a faint scar running down his cheek, chuckled. “Trey’s definitely the worst of us, but yeah, we’ve been known to have our moments.”

“Wonderful,” I deadpanned, crossing my arms. “A whole pack of comedians. Just what I needed.”

Trey took a step closer, his smirk widening. “Don’t worry, human. I’ll protect you from their terrible sense of humor.”

“Oh, how noble of you,” I shot back. “Should I be honored?”

Another brother, younger-looking with a mischievous gleam in his eye, leaned forward slightly. “She’s feisty. I like her.”

Trey turned to him, his expression mock-serious. “Back off, Caleb. She’s already dealing with me.”

“Lucky me,” I muttered under my breath, earning a round of laughter from the group. While I’d spoken to three of the brothers, the rest just watched, probably taking their time to warm up to me. I wondered what Mariamme had told them about me, and why they were not questioning my very existence—human or wolf-less girl—between them.

Mariamme’s sharp voice cut through our banter. “That’s enough, boys. We’ve got work to do.” She turned to me, her tone softening slightly. “Feyre, come help me with the antelope.”

I didn’t argue. As I moved to follow her, Trey leaned in close, his breath warm against my ear. “Don’t worry, human. You’re growing on me.”

I froze for a fraction of a second, heart inexplicably skipping at his words, before shooting him a glare. “Keep dreaming, wolf.”

He chuckled lowly as I walked away, the sound of it somehow both irritating and—though I’d never admit it—comforting.

Few minutes later, Mariamme was cutting through the deer’s gut, blood spewing everywhere and staining the snow beneath it crimson. The sky had darkened now, but it wasn’t still as cold as it had been this morning or the previous night. The fire crackled loudly, the glow illuminating the cabin in the dark and onto Mariamme’s pale skin. 

In the distance, the voices of the boys laughing reached me as I crouched by Mariamme, watching her knife dig deeper into the gut of the animal. They had gone off into the distance, human forms still, jumping mid air with such agility and speed I felt I'd get dizzy by just watching them play. 

As Mariamme’s blade cut deeper, and she tugged the insides of the animal out, spewing the lungs and intestines onto the snow, I envied the agility at which she worked. Blood stained her pale skin, smearing against her lower chin, her chest, her arms but she wasn’t bothered the least. Occasionally, her head lifted and she watched the boys in the distant. 

Her gaze landed on me, her smile lingering as she tugged the rest of the innards out. “Want a taste?” She asked. She wasn’t kidding either. She lifted a finger to her lips and sucked it clean, the blood trailing down her chin. “It’s healthier this way.” 

She gestured I held my palm out. I did as I was told, back at home, my parents would never let me have a bite of the raw animals before roasting. Even when Kayden and father did, she denied herself of the pleasure of raw tasting—much more suitable to werewolves—because she knew my system couldn’t fight off any terminal disease that I could get off eating the animals raw without a wolf. 

“I’ve never had this.” I told Mariamme as she dropped a chunk of oozing warm meat in my left hand. 

She tilted her head, looking amused. “Not once?” 

“Not once.”

Her brows tugged. “You sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well,” she shrugged, “there’s always a first time, pup.”