I Don't Bite [Dean Winchester x Reader] Book 2

It's Too Late

"Don't hurt her!" Dean shouted just as the strange man's palm touched skin. A glow passed through the air as she collapsed, and Dean watched in horror. His eyes flicked between her, Bobby, and the man whose bright white eyes were fading back to a simple blue.

"Your friends are alive," the man said, turning a stoic expression on the hunter. "We need to talk. Alone."

—

A scream escaped me as I sat upright and scrambled backward away from the man, only to find... I wasn't in the warehouse. My fingers dug into plush undergrowth and my eyes flicked up to the towering redwoods that cast massive shadows across the land. The sun was high in the sky, beaming down in thin rays through the thick branches.

The sound of cracking branches had me scrambling to my feet and dashing behind one of the massive trunks. Voices approached and I peeked slowly around the rough bark until I found a pair slowly striding into the clearing. A woman with dark hair, a hooked nose, and warm eyes that watched the child beside her with affection. The little boy seemed... familiar, somehow. He clutched his mother's hand tightly as he stomped into the field.

"This is as good a place as any," she said and the pair halted. Her hair was graying, and her olive-toned skin didn't quite match the boy's. The woman kneeled in front of the boy, eye level with him."We're going to practice here. Do you remember what I taught you?"

The boy kicked at a clump of dirt and refused to look at his mother. He pouted, squeezing her hand in his smaller one. With a smile, she placed a finger under his chin and forced him to lift his head.

"It hurts," he mumbled, showing a gap in his front teeth.

"I know, darling. But it's the only way you'll get better," she answered with a reassuring tone. Her hand under his chin lifted to the top of his head, slowly stroking his hair. "I'll be right here. I'll even go first."

The little boy hesitated for a moment before nodding. His mother stroked his hair once more before standing and taking a few steps back. She stretched her arms high above her head and leaned back into the stretch as her body began to change. It was subtle at first – her spine curled a little too far, her knees angled strangely. But then silver fur began to protrude, covering the length of her body. Her nose and ears extended and her hands formed paws as she dropped to the ground.

Diluted red eyes stared back at the boy now with a wolfish smile. Her fur was pale, nearly white with gray coating her shoulders and hips. She shook out her fur and then laid down as if beckoning her son to follow her example.

The boy looked sheepish for a second before he also stretched his arms high above his head, just as his mother had. The change didn't come as naturally to him. He winced as his bones began to break, and a pained shriek left him as they rearranged. His mother crawled forward on her stomach until she was within inches of him.

Darker gray fur crept out from beneath his skin, and small fangs protruded from beneath his upper lip. The boy crouched down and allowed the shift to take him, shaking his head at the pain. Finally, a thick, fluffy coat of dark gray fur coated the little wolf pup, shaggier and darker than his mother. When he opened his eyes again, they were warm and golden, softer in color than his mother's.

A gasp escaped me as I leaned further around the tree. Neither figure reacted as I crept out of the shadows, watching the pair with shock. I knew the eyes, and as I drew closer I recognized the darker gray coat.

It was the same fur that had taught me how to change between forms, in the same way this paler wolf had.

"Dad?"