The Wolf of Dorian Gray - A Werewolf Spawned by the Evil of Man

Chapter 9 - The Wolf Part 1

Early the next morning, Dorian called upon Sage at her home. Their visits had grown less frequent as of late, but now he sought to rekindle their friendship in order to take his mind off of recent events. The wolf had thrived and was now nearly to adulthood. Ample food and exercise had filled out the wolf and added strong muscles spread beneath the shiny gray coat. A new look of intelligence and cunning had replaced the once innocent and playful face. Although significantly larger, the animal still took cuts of meat straight from Dorian's hand. Sage had cared for the wolf for most of its life and he usually took meat from her hand as well, but today the offer was met with a stark refusal. The privilege now seemed reserved only for Dorian.

Sage once again attempted to feed the wolf a small choice cut of beef from her proffered hand. "Dorian, why doesn't he like me?"

"I am sure he likes you just find my dear. He owes you so much, but perhaps he is just tired of you forcing your attentions on him in such a manner."

"Where did my little, baby wolf cub go? How did my tiny Dorian Grey grow up so fast?"

For the briefest of moments, Dorian was offended—until he remembered that Sage insisted on referring to the beast as his namesake.

"That is the very problem, Sage. You treat him still as the young lapdog that he was, instead of the dangerous predator he has become. Maybe if you coddled him less, he would respond to you more."

"Dangerous? Why, no one holding the name Dorian could ever be dangerous to anyone," said Sage as she reached one hand towards the wolf's ear and the other hand again offered up the bloody piece of meat towards the sharp teeth.

As if to refute her statement, at that very moment the wolf snarled and snapped at the beef with needlelike teeth. His teeth sunk into the meat along with the more delicate flesh of Sage's hand.

She cried out and quickly pulled the hand back. "RaaAhh! How could you do such a thing?"

Dorian rushed to her side. Already both the tears from her face and blood from her hand were falling. Together they splattered on the floor. He laughed merrily as he started to inspect the wound. "It is but a small hurt, likely to leave only a minor scar. You should have listened to me." He began to clean the wound as Sage's shock grew along with the pain in her palm and fingers.

"My brush-hand! Oh you wretched beast. Perhaps you do need to be free of me and out in the world. Out! Out I say!"

The wolf had not the decency to look reproached, but instead his eyes gleamed with ferocity and his lips curled up to revel the sharp teeth along with a bloody muzzle. For a moment, it seemed like he might snarl again or even bare his teeth further. Then the animal turned quickly, without so-much-as a backward glance, and bounded across the room and towards the open door.

"Dorian Grey wait! Don't leave me like this." Sage struggled to rise from the floor, between tears and a hand slick with blood. She pressed the puncture marks closed on her hand in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

Instead of slowing however, the wolf increased his pace from the house and bounded towards the forest. He sensed the need for freedom beating in his heart. The bloodlust to kill live prey was growing inside of him and he longed for the thrill of the hunt.

Later that evening, after Sage had been soothed and her hand tended to, Dorian strode from the house and out into the night. He moved towards the ancient, gnarled trees of the darkened forest. His vision was actually quite good in the poor light, aided of course by the bright stars and the waxing moon. How foolish he had once been, to be afraid of the unknown. How childish he had been to fear imagined monsters lurking behind the ancient statues of wood. How naïve he had once been in avoiding the night and all of its wondrous delights.

As he walked on along the border of the thick shadowy-wood, he suddenly knew that he was no longer alone. "So, you still know who your master is and who it was that saved you years ago from certain death?"

The wolf whined in response to Dorian's outstretched hand, quickly covering the distance between the two figures. The animal sat submissively and began panting with an expression of utter devotion. Dorian's fingers luxuriously scratched out a pattern behind his ears and along his head. In Dorian's presence the animal was completely tame and obedient. It knew instinctively who was the pack leader and the Alpha male. There was a type of kinship between the two. It was an instinctual understanding about the need for freedom, the thirst for new experiences, and the desire for fresh prey.

"Off you go. Time to enjoy these prime years of your life far away from the destructive hand of mankind. Better not to be tethered to one such as Sage Holdsworth, when there is so much more that awaits you in the green forest."

With a flick of his wrist, Dorian dismissed the wolf and it ran off into the darkness. Dorian knew that whenever he walked the edge of the dark forest in the future, the beast could be summoned back to him with the ease of a low whistle. In the days that followed, whenever the wolf caught wind of his pack leader's scent on the air, he would cover the ground quickly in order to be nearby. There he would lurk at the tangled edges of the forest in the blackness, in case he was ever to be summoned by the Master.

The wolf grew stronger and more confident as time passed in his new domain. He also grew more vicious, much more cunning, and more accustomed to the darkness in his new realm. He learned to avoid detection as he moved about the ancient woods. His first hunt was triggered by the scent of a young fawn that was separated from her mother.