I step outside, the screen door shutting behind me with clattering finality. I consider looking back, saying something, anything, to you, to erase the hurt on your face. But the cold damp of the night sends my flesh erupting into sensitive pricks, the beginnings of the transformation dancing along my nerves. Blood pumps to muscles eager to stretch and strengthen. It’s intoxicating, demanding I embrace it and walk away.
I do.
This isn’t the woman I fell in love with.
I’m more than just a woman.
Finally, I come to the old rest stop at the edge of town. My nose fills with the sour scent of gasoline and cigarette smoke, and I stride quickly past the pumps to where the station borders the woods. There are men gathered there, boyfriends and husbands and brothers and friends filling the air with earthy, sweaty scents. I wonder if you will join them soon, anyway, for me.
I pass by the crowd, and a man smiles at me, demanding I do the same. I bare my teeth as requested, and he jumps back in alarm. My canines have come in. They bite into my lip, filling my mouth with the tang of blood. For the first time in my life, I gag on the taste.
We could leave.
What about the pack?
What about us!
In the shadows of the trees, I am greeted by wolves and women, sisters from my own pack, cousins from others, bent heads and encouraging yips. I walk among them, awash in a blanket of deep florals and musky amber, and then, suddenly, a veritable wall of bitter orange and harsh metal.
Lynea, the alpha.
She stands tall across from me, surrounded by a handful of supporters. Her long hair is dyed a premature silver to match her alabaster skin, a smirk on her face as she sizes me, her challenger, up.
I nod stiffly in bare deference as the senior wolves herd the young ones away, clearing a large space for us. Taking off my clothes, I toss them aside, shivering in anticipation. I think of you—
Don’t do this.
—and let go.
My skin ripples, erupting in coarse fur that grows as the muscles beneath contract and expand. Bones crunch and reform. I scream, then growl, then howl as the transformation completes and I am fully wolf.
It is ecstasy, the apex of femininity, woman ascended. Bigger, stronger, and more dangerous than any other Canidae, I prowl the clearing, relishing my new flesh.
Across from me, Lynea has transformed into gleaming white fur. We face each other, teeth bared, saliva dripping from our jowls. The clearing goes silent. Pungent ozone fills the air, the advent of lightning.
You don’t think I can pull off the win.
I don’t think you understand what you’ll lose.
I charge. Sister wolves erupt into cacophonous barks, and Lynea and I leap onto each other at full force.
She is smaller than me, but more nimble and wily, wriggling away before I can bite down on her snout. My jaws clamp painfully together, and I turn quickly to avoid her strike at my haunches. We separate as a steady rain begins to fall.
Lynea’s snout curls back, exposing her teeth. Her shoulders go low. I mirror her, feeling my muscles tighten in anticipation.
Lynea bounds forward. I spring aside to avoid her raking claws, but her body checks mine, sending me slipping on slick leaves. We scramble around each other, jaws snapping, paws swiping, and suddenly Lynea stumbles on her next pass. I take advantage, sinking my teeth into her left haunch and whipping my head to tear the muscle.
Blood spurts. Sister wolves scream. Lynea yowls and pulls away, eyes finding mine. I loll my tongue to reveal her blood dripping from my mouth.
You’ve changed.
I haven’t!
Thunder booms above us, startling me. Lynea jumps, going for my neck. I let her weight come over mine, curling my legs up, keeping her snapping jaws clear. I push with all my strength. Lynea topples to the side, landing on her wound, whining in the struggle to get up.
She doesn’t make it in time.
I lock my jaw around her exposed neck. The barest pressure will puncture her arteries. Lightning splits the sky. In the illumination, I meet Lynea’s eyes and see the woman behind the wolf.
You can’t stop yourself! You’re more wolf than woman now!
I’m not!
I am.
My jaws clamp down, stabbing through flesh. Lynea thrashes, chest working with ragged, ever-shortening breaths as her lifeblood pours over us both.
I keep my grip until I feel Lynea’s fur start to fall away. Letting go, I back away and watch as Lynea’s body returns to woman-form, her glassy eyes reflecting the night sky above, neck torn open and staining her white hair red.
I let my own body transform until I am returned to standing, head back, the rain washing Lynea’s blood down my chin and bare chest. Copper and petrichor surround me as I turn to the watching wolves.
One by one they bow, dipping snouts to the ground before tilting back to howl at the sky, honoring their new alpha. I see a few of Lynea’s wolves slink away into the dark. A spike of alarm goes through me, a great weight settling over my shoulders. I will have to deal with them, make sure they do not pose a threat to myself or sisters.
To my pack.
I look for you instinctively, desperately, searching in vain for your ever-ready comfort. I wade through my pack, damp fur rubbing against me as I grab my clothes, rooting in pockets for my phone. My fingers dial your number. The line rings.
Don’t come back. I mean it.
I fall to my knees. Warm tongues lap at the blood on my skin.
Don’t say that.
Wolves whine for the attention of their alpha, but all I can hear is the phone line ringing, endlessly.
About the author:
Catherine Tavares is a speculative fiction author and member of both SFWA and Codex. Her work has appeared on the Nebula Recommended Reading List and been featured in magazines such as Nature Futures, Factor Four, Haven Spec, and right here in Flash Point SF! An avid reader, she spends most of her time haunting the shelves of her local library, but she can on occasion be persuaded to try a new recipe or work on a knitting project.
Find Catherine:
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