Until the shocking revelation of real werewolves throws society into turmoil, the world's definition of fear was set at a low expectation. However, as humans exploit these creatures, trading them for power, Seraphina's world unravels on her 18th bir...
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✦ . 🖤⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ 💛. ✦
The wolf followed close behind, nearly tripping me as we entered the house. Out here on the outskirts of town, without neighbors or help, I was completely clueless about what to do with him. The stories I’d heard about their captivity and treatment flickered through my mind, but they didn’t prepare me for this moment.
“Uh, I’m not exactly sure how to handle this,” I admitted, glancing at the wolf. Could I command him to shift into a human, like I’d heard people do? The idea seemed logical, but I wasn’t entirely sure how it worked, or if I even wanted to try.
“If you, uh, need the bathroom, it’s upstairs,” I said awkwardly, tilting my head at him. “You can use the one in my room.”
The wolf blinked at me, curiosity evident in his silver eyes.
“I know this is probably a strange question, but… do you need clothes? We could go to the market if you do. My dad used to take a wagon to town, but I’ve got a car. We can use that.”
He continued to stare, silent.
“Okay, I guess we’ll skip that part,” I shrugged, still unsure if he understood me or just preferred not to respond. I hoped he had some clothes hidden beneath all that fur.
“Are you hungry?”
No response, but the question felt rhetorical at this point. I led him to the kitchen and rummaged through the fridge, pulling out leftover spaghetti and setting it on the counter. “There’s enough for both of us.”
I microwaved the food and served him a larger portion, noting how underweight he looked. Judging by the condition he was in, my dad’s vague description of the “pet store” where he’d come from seemed more ominous than I first realized.
I set the plate on the table across from mine, complete with silverware, even though it seemed unnecessary. He simply sat on his haunches, watching me.
“You can eat at the table,” I encouraged, but when he didn’t move, I sighed and put his plate on the floor. “Alright, if you’d rather eat like a dog…”
He devoured the food faster than I expected, and I barely started mine before he was finished. Noticing his lingering hunger, I slid my plate toward him. He hesitated for a second, but then the anticipation became too much. His mouth watered as he leaned down to eat, slower this time.
That’s when I saw it—a gash hidden beneath the thick fur on his neck.
“What the—” I gasped, startling him. His ears flattened, and I quickly corrected myself. “Not you, don’t worry.”
I approached him slowly, parting the fur around his neck to reveal a deep, ugly wound. Though dry, it looked painful and recent.
“Did someone hurt you?” I murmured, gently lifting his muzzle to meet my eyes. The sight of spaghetti smeared across his fur almost made me laugh, but I kept my composure.
He avoided eye contact, a gesture that only deepened the weight in my chest. Without another word, I went upstairs to grab alcohol and cotton pads from the bathroom cabinet.
When I returned, he was still sitting there, watching me. “Hold still,” I said softly, parting his fur and dabbing the wound. He didn’t flinch, even as the alcohol must have stung.
“Got a name?” I asked, but his only response was a flick of the ear.
“Alright, fine, I won’t push. But I’m not going to call you ‘wolf’ forever,” I said, thinking aloud. Twisting his muzzle slightly so he met my gaze again, I considered for a moment. “Hmm. Sam. That seems right.”
With his wound tended and the cotton ball discarded, I straightened up. “I’ve got some homework to do. You can hang around, just don’t break anything, okay? You know, with your… nonexistent fingers.” I chuckled at my own joke and headed toward my room, his claws clicking softly as he followed.
When we reached my room, he hesitated at the door.
“You’re welcome in here, Sam. I won’t kick you out,” I reassured him.
He stepped cautiously inside, eyeing the sparse décor—a bookshelf, my snow globe collection, and the small skincare corner. Sam settled on the floor near my bed, and I laughed softly.
“Just because you’re part dog doesn’t mean you can’t hop up here. Just be gentle with the fabric.”
As I set up my laptop and began my homework, he eventually joined me on the bed, lying at my feet. “Hope you don’t mind the smell of books. Maybe it’ll make you appreciate learning a little more.” I smiled, diving into my schoolwork while Sam dozed quietly.
Hours passed. I finished my assignments while he slept soundly through the evening. When I finally closed my laptop, I saw him still resting at my feet, his silver eyes now closed, his body calm.
As I shifted slightly, trying to move my foot, he let out a low growl, adjusting himself to pin my leg down more comfortably.
I smiled to myself, amused by his protectiveness. Too tired to fight it, I allowed myself to drift into a short nap, lulled by his presence.
When I woke, it was dark. The moonlight filtered through the window, casting a pale glow across the room. Sam was no longer at my feet.
“Sam?” I called groggily, barely awake.
A warm hand touched my arm, gently rubbing it. I groaned, turning over to give it access to my back. Without a second thought, I surrendered to the soothing touch, falling back into a deep, peaceful sleep.
