Primal Promise

Five

Through the night he'd eluded the others, always a step ahead. His beast demanded he return to the bottom of the mountain and claim his mate. The primal feel of her, the scent of arousal he'd sensed, the softness and strength of her. Good for breeding, good for pleasure, the heat he recalled with a pang of lust in his loins, renewing his urge to have her. Now!

The man within fought him as he'd never done before. They'd always been in simpatico. Now the man was screaming one word which echoed and stabbed like a blade. Rapist. It brought unfamiliar feelings hammering into his consciousness. Shame. Regret. Disgust. Self-hatred. It confused him and made his stomach feel as if he'd eaten rotten meat. Within those emotions was a fear, a panic that spurred him on. Don't let them catch us. They will know. I cannot bear the knowledge in their eyes.

Morning was near. He could feel it as he was sure they could. They had fallen back, their scents were distant and faint. He reached his property as the sun broke over the Eastern horizon. Shadowed still by the mountain and the thick trees, he waited. The wolf was loathe to retreat just yet.

The torn scrap again laid near his muzzle so he could inhale her into his lungs, overwhelmed by lust and shame, regret and joy all screaming out for resolution. A resolution he could not find a path to. Curled in a crouch at the base of a spreading pine, devoured by the shade of its arms, he stretched out the last moments as long as was possible. Resigning to the separation at last, a furry arm lifted with a huff of resignation.

The sunlight touched his fur, the dew clinging from his run glinted like diamond for a moment, feeling the warmth of the sunlight upon the dark fur before it began to retreat. The beast surrendered, the last energy sending him out from the protection of the trees into the sunlit clearing with a grunt.

The full brunt of the early-morning sun bathing him. The dark fur ripped and receded, a feeling like having a hundred band-aids slowly pulled off. The bones thinned and shrank. Melting to soft clay then reshaping and hardening anew. The strength of his muscles lingered for a few moments before the fibers seemed to atrophy beneath his skin, wasting away as the human from the wolf was separated.

Across his shoulders and back, the fur remained, thick and black, the flesh beneath parting as he grit his teeth, the hide peeling down, the weight of the fur dragging it from his shoulders to his rump, leaving the skin beneath raw and pink. With a rustling sound, the heavy pelt fell to the needle-strewn ground. He stretched and bent, heedless to being naked, working his jaw and his fingers and toes until the pins and needles feelings subsided and the new-skin pink turned to the soft tan of his usual complexion.

He knelt there, catching his breath for several minutes. Devoid of the beast's influence as the higher consciousness, he was now drowning in his regrets and the awareness that if they had not caught up with him in the night, it was because they never meant to. They'd been herding him. Keeping him away from the base of the mountain long enough for him to come to himself. They would not be far behind him now. Reverently, he collected his shed skin and the snippet of fabric, carrying both the last few hundred yards to his cabin. He hoped they would allow him the needed time to prepare.

Once inside, he spread the pelt across the back of the leather sofa. A towel gently run down the dark fur to dry it. Then a soft brush was pulled through to rid it of burs and bits of leaf. This act, the preparation, was done with great care and ceremony. When it shone like jet and opal intermingled, he opened the hand-carved wooden chest and folded the fur, laying it gently inside.

Pausing, he ran his fingers over the small scrap of cloth, bringing it to his nose where even the deepest sniff only smelled of faint perfume to him now. Laying the scrap atop the fur, he closed the lid and locked it, putting it away in the front closet as he at last gave heed to the hands of the clock.