NaNoWriMo Story Snippets

7. Pack Mentality: A Wolf Alone, excerpt

Author's note: PACK MENTALITY: A WOLF ALONE lives! Sort of. I can't find my original notes, so I need to think up a new ending. Fingers crossed I can finish this poor story that's sat untouched for months.

It felt like a back-handed punishment out of some Greek tragedy. Becky hadn't transformed at the full moon, so the only legacy of his attack were the scars along her jaw—and it seemed like only he could see them. Hunter had her examined by one of WWE's preferred doctors, who found no signs of scarring or permanent damage. Becky's own doctor agreed with those results. None of make-up artists complained about having to work with difficult scar tissue. But they were the first thing Seth saw whenever he looked at her face, ghosts of her pain and his transgression.

"Seriously, bro, there's nothing there." Roman was holding Becky's chin in one hand and pushing her hair back with the other, tilting her face to the vanity lighting in the dressing room. Becky and all three members of The Shield were minutes away from being announced for an autograph signing session, and Seth still worried about her scars, so she had gamely sat on the counter so Dean and Roman could look for themselves. "Right, Dean? I can't see anything."

"Maybe only werewolves can," Dean suggested, leaning close to peer at Becky's jaw and giving her cheek an experimental poke. "I can't see anything."

"Well, I can feel something," Becky muttered, "because it's my face." She stayed still, though, probably hoping that Roman and Dean's assessments might finally convince Seth that she was all right.

"Sorry, Irish." Roman kissed the top of her head before letting go of her chin. "But I seriously don't see anything, Seth. And enough people have looked." He gave Seth a quick hug before slinging an arm around his slumped shoulders. "Are you sure it's not just . . . you? You know, manifestation of guilt or something like that? You know what you happened, so you expect to see marks or whatever?"

You know what happened. Something in Seth burned at the words. It should have been You know what you did. He needed to always remember what he had done, what he was capable of, what might happen without a hint of warning. If he wanted to keep wrestling—to keep a relationship with Becky—he had to be confident in his control and for the first time in years, he wasn't. "I can see them." When he reached for Becky's face, he paused, but she met his gaze with absolute trust. "And it's not just because I know where the scars would be." The skin was smooth to the touch, and he didn't know whether to credit the manuka honey his mother had suggested or if it was some strange side effect of werewolf claws.

"Seth, I'm fine." Becky turned into his touch and kissed his palm, curling her fingers around his wrist so he couldn't move away. "It doesn't hurt anymore, and I can move my jaw just fine."

He knew—from very pleasant experiences—that the range of motion in her jaw hadn't been hindered at all, but he couldn't believe that his eyes were deceiving him every time he looked at Becky's face. Looking around at his friends, however, it was evident that he would never convince them and they couldn't sway him either. "If it ever starts to hurt, even just a twinge—"

Ignoring the presence of Roman and Dean, Becky pulled Seth down into a kiss. "If anything changes, you'll be the first to know. Okay?"She rested her forehead against his before letting him go and hopping down to the floor. "I promise."

It was as good a promise as Seth could get, but it didn't stop him from cringing when they entered the convention hall and took their seats. Every time someone looked at Becky just a little too long, he worried that they saw what he saw, but she sailed through the signing like the champion she was, full of smiles and kind words. Roman and Dean had to nudge Seth from time to time to keep him focussed on the fans on the other side of the table, though, and as the afternoon wore on, his nerves felt as tangled and sharp as barbed wire. When Becky laid a hand on his shoulder, he almost jumped out of his skin. "Sorry, Becks. What's up?" The signing was still going on, though it was near the end, and it was unlike her to take even a minute away from her fan interactions if she didn't have to.