One Insatiable

A feeling I don’t recognize spreads through my chest. I’ve never felt this way in my life. I can’t leave her alone. I’m staying to protect her.

Bending my legs, I get comfortable in the shadow of the trees. If that thing tries to come back, I’m more than ready to fight. She asked me to stay away, and I fully intend to follow her wishes. I might not understand it, but nothing will threaten Mercy as long as I’m here.

Exploring

Mercy

Sundays in the fall are my favorite days of the week. The gym is closed, and the weather is perfect for hiking in the woods, peeping at the changing leaves. It’s beautiful and fragrant, and I always save time to do a little shifting. Jumping around, hunting in my lynx form is exhilarating and fun. I’m bouncing with excitement as I head down the stairs to breakfast.

Aunt Penny’s at the table, and I pause, waiting to see if she’ll make an excuse to leave the room when she sees me. She doesn’t. A newspaper is spread beside her, and she’s reading as she sips her coffee.

“Good morning!” I say, pulling out my chair and reaching for the white bowl of fluffy yellow eggs.

She blinks up at me and smiles. “Hello, dear. I heard you go out last night.”

Taking a large bite of savory bacon, I nod. “I went bowling with a girl from the gym.”

“Bowling!” Aunt Penny straightens, a smile teasing at the edges of her mouth. “We’ll just keep that between us. Was it fun?”

“It was,” I say, considering everything that happened. “I can’t remember the last time I bowled, but I seem to be a natural at it.”

“Of course you are,” she sips her coffee. “You’ve always been athletically gifted.”

I can’t help a little frown. “I’ve never participated in sports. How can you know that?”

“It’s in your genes.”

Her attention returns to the paper, and I reach for the carafe to pour myself a cup of coffee. When I got home last night, that presence was back. My insides were jumpy and unsettled, the same as last night. It wasn’t as strong, but it lingered in the yard.

“Did you have a visitor last night, Pen?” I lift the cup and take a small sip of the rich, dark blend.

“Hmm?” She tears her eyes away from the news to look at me.

“Last night? Did someone come to visit?”

“No…” Her brow lines, and I decide I must be losing it.

“Sorry. When I got home, it felt like someone had been here. Strange, like a presence I didn’t recognize.”

A shadow flickers across her face, and she hops out of her chair, going to the window. “I hate it when Dylan’s gone so long.”

I disagree with that sentiment, but I let it go. Penny’s far more attached to the notion of alpha-protector than I am, probably because she’s getting older. Bluish-purple jam is in a little pot to my left, and I spread it across a piece of toast.

The presence had troubled me when I got home, but before I went to bed, I looked out the window in case it was back. As I stood there, the most incredible sense of safety flooded my body. It was warm and secure, and I’d slept like a baby all night.

Tossing my napkin on the table, I quickly gulp the last of my coffee. “I’m going out for a hike.”

“Oh, be careful, Mercy.” Her eyes are still full of worry, but I’m happy remembering the warm sensation from last night.

“Don’t you worry about me.” I kiss her cheek. “I’m safe in our woods, and I’ll be back in time for dinner.”

She’s wringing her hands as I skip out the front door, headed across the lawn in the direction of the trees.

* * *

Koa

Sunlight blazes through my windows, forcing my eyes open. The air is crisp this morning, but I hear happy noises of breakfast preparation, doors opening and closing. The baby isn’t crying.