Turned: A werewolf love story

Chapter 6: Bluff

A week passed. Charlotte slept and ate and slept again as her burn healed. Bernard hunted rabbits and squirrels in the surrounding countryside. Sometimes he ventured down to the coast, where he stalked gulls and longed for fish.

Hours upon hours of solitude gave him time to think. If Archmage Allard had meant to eliminate Bernard's work with the werewolves, what must he have done to the other mages? Bernard had sent a message to Kryn the night of the outbreak. Had Kryn been bitten, too? Or had someone else managed to brew the elixir, as Bernard had?

If they returned to Halfmoon Manor, what might become of them? They might be killed by humans defending themselves, or by mages—or by Allard himself. Allard owned the staff that controlled all wolves, and what if he used it to force Bernard to attack people? Or Charlotte?

Charlotte muddled his plans. Since becoming a wolf, she'd mellowed toward him, becoming affectionate and even kind. He looked forward to carrying her food, simply to receive her thanks and a lick on the cheek. Behind the haughty mask lay a lonely, frightened young woman—a woman who drew him like a pin to a magnet.

The thought of seeing her again in a few hours sent tremors through him. Nervous, eager tremors. Would she greet him kindly, or revert to her old ways? Would she appreciate the food he'd worked so hard to catch?

Was this how all men felt about their wives?

It filled him with a fear greater than any he'd ever known. Returning to Halfmoon meant risking Charlotte's life. Yet remaining here meant condemning her to a life in the wild, with never a chance of regaining her human body. Bernard must finish the elixir—he must contact the other mages and give them the formula—because Charlotte needed it.

He caught a fat partridge, and pleased with himself, carried it back to their den. Charlotte sat in the entrance, looking for him. Her ears pricked up when she saw him, and she smiled prettily, wolf-fashion.

Bernard dropped the bird in front of her, and she said, “Take half of it, my lord. I know you must be hungry.”

They shared the partridge. While not enough meat to fill Bernard's belly, it kept starvation at bay. Afterward he stretched out on the floor beside Charlotte and let her cuddle against him. His heart skipped several beats. If only he was human again! He didn't want to court her in a wolf's body, with its fur and claws and stink.

Her voice fell on his ears like a song. “I went for a run this afternoon. My back doesn't hurt any longer.”

He nosed her wound. The flesh was healed and beginning to sprout fur again. “Excellent, my lady.” He drew breath to mention Halfmoon Manor, but the words died on his tongue. It was a sin to put his wife at such risk. Had they been human he'd never have considered it.

Charlotte nuzzled his ear. “What is it?”

“It's time we returned home, yet—yet I fear for you, my lady.”

She licked his face. “I fear for you, Bernard. But what good will it do if I sit here while you return? If you're killed, I'd never know it, until—until the hunters found me, too.” Her voice rose in anguish.

“Hush, my lady.” He licked her neck and ear. “I know we must go together, yet I dread what may happen. We must be very cautious.”

Bernard rose to all fours, and Charlotte did the same. He padded out of the cave on all fours and sniffed the chill breeze. His belly ached beneath his ribs, but he pushed through it and kept walking. Return to Halfmoon in a straight line, or circle to avoid all contact with humans?

As they trotted into the forest and headed northward, Bernard pondered contacting the mages. If his alchemy lab had not been destroyed, he might be able to find and use his scrollstone. Perhaps he could draft an explanation to Kryn, if he still lived.