Chapter Text
The pines loomed tall and dark around Karen, muffling the wind into silence. She closed her eyes as she inhaled a deep breath.
For months, she had been planning this camping trip, looking forward to time alone in the woods without distractions, without work. She loved her little veterinarian clinic with all her heart, but she had been spending too many weekends there lately. And a vacation was long overdue.
Karen's back ached from the weight of her pack, carting her tent seven miles into the forest. But the air was sharp and clean in her lungs out here. And it was so quiet, she could hear her own heartbeat, pounding at her ribcage after the strenuous hike.
No late-night emergencies. No last-minute surgeries.
Up ahead, the trees opened onto a clearing, dotted with white flowers. Two rabbits chased each other through the thick, lush carpet of grass, then took off into the underbrush.
"Looks like the perfect place to make camp for the night," Karen said to no one.
For a long time, she had wondered if this whole idea would only make her feel even lonelier. Heading out to the woods solo. Trekking miles and miles without seeing a single soul.
Instead, Karen felt…liberated. With the trees towering around her and the soft give of the mossy soil beneath her boots, the world seemed hushed somehow. As if she had walked right into a cocoon all her own.
She unhooked her backpack and let it drop to the ground. Rolling her shoulders with relief at finally releasing her burden for the first time in hours, Karen spread her arms and turned her face to the sky.
"Afternoon."
Karen squawked in alarm and spun around.
A man stood at the edge of the clearing. Dressed in camouflage from head to toe, the forest rendered him nearly invisible except for his face. Pale beneath a dark skullcap.
The calm Karen had felt a moment ago vanished. Her heart rate spiked and her thoughts flew to the gun in her backpack. Could she get to it in time if this man tried to do something to her?
"You out here alone?" the man said.
Definitely a serial killer.
"Uhm, no, actually," Karen said, spinning the lie as fast as she could through her brain. "I came with a…group. They're just down the trail. Should be here any minute."
The man said nothing. When he stepped forward into the clearing, Karen's breath caught in her throat. A rifle was strapped to his back.
There was no way she could reach her gun in time now.
"That's good," the man said.
Karen decided she really didn’t like his tone. A little oily. A little slithery.
"You should know there's a wolf in these woods," the man said. "Big, nasty son of a bitch. Got a temper on him like the devil himself crawled into his skin and possessed him."
"Well," Karen said with a small laugh, "you know what they say. Don't bother the wildlife and the wildlife won't bother you."
The man clucked his tongue.
"Oh, no, no." The way he said it sounded as if he was chastising a child, his tone sickly sweet and condescending. "This fucker isn't afraid of anything or anyone. If he sets his sights on you…" The man shook his head. "You're dead."
A heartbeat of stillness settled over the clearing. Then the man smiled, a flash of teeth, his eyes flat. The expression looked forced and cold, as if he had practiced it in the mirror for a convincing approximation that would pass muster.
"Well, I best be movin' on," he said. "The only reason I'm not worried about being out here after dark is because I've got this canon to keep me company." He patted the rifle. Then his gaze roved over Karen, slow and calculating. "I don't know what you're going to do. But I certainly wouldn't want to be in your shoes."
Then the man turned and melted into the trees.
"Fuck this shit, I'm out of here," Karen said.
She scrambled to get her pistol out, then swung her backpack over her shoulder and hurried back along the trail. There was no way she would sleep in a tent tonight with that creep lurking around in the woods.
Despite the burn of adrenaline pumping through her veins, Karen couldn't make it back to her car before the inevitable spread of nightfall slipped through the trees like spilled ink. Her headlamp was buried at the bottom of her backpack but she didn't dare stop to dig it out.
Instead, she fished her phone from her pocket. The weak flashlight beam barely illuminated the path but it was better than stumbling around blind in the dark.
Every little sound made Karen jump – a rustle in the leaves, the snarl of raccoons fighting. She flashed her phone at the surrounding forest only to see a wall of washed-out, ghostly tree trunks and thick, dark bushes shrouded in shadows.
No sign of the man. But that didn't stop the prickle of goosebumps from shivering across her skin.
The trail seemed longer on the way back. Tripping over tree roots. Skidding in the mud.
Then she saw it. A massive dog emerged from the woods, only a few feet ahead. Bigger than a Great Dane, standing nearly as high as Karen's elbow. How was it possible a dog that big could exist?
Not a dog, she mentally corrected herself. With wiry black fur and golden eyes, no domesticated dog looked like that.
Wolf.
"Holy shit," Karen breathed.
She raised her pistol, hands trembling, flashlight beam shaking. The wolf took a step toward her, head lowered. Despite the creature's size, his paws didn't make a sound against the earth when he moved.
This had to be the wolf that man had been talking about.
Big, nasty son of a bitch. Got a temper on him like the devil himself crawled into his skin and possessed him.
Karen's finger curled tighter around the trigger. To even consider shooting this creature felt wrong. How many dogs had she patched up and doctored over the years?
But a wolf was not a domesticated dog. It was a wild animal. It could be carrying any number of diseases. It could attack out of fear, pain, or territorial dispute. She didn't want to get mauled to death. In the woods. In the dark. Alone. God only knew how many miles away from the nearest hospital…
Karen gritted her teeth. At the back of her mind, one thought continued to whisper with insistence.
It's still a living, breathing animal and it deserves to be left in peace.
Before she could decide whether she should shoot or not, the wolf huffed a breath through his nostrils and slowly blinked at her. Then his legs folded beneath him and he dropped to the ground in a heap.
Several seconds ticked by. The wolf didn't move.
Karen inched closer. Keeping her gun trained on the wolf, she skirted around him and prepared to make a run for it.
Then her flashlight caught the dark gleam of blood, seeping into the dirt.
"Shit," Karen hissed through her teeth.
Her conscience dragged her to her knees next to the wolf. She couldn't bring herself to leave an injured animal. Quickly, she spanned her flashlight over the wolf's body. His fur was too thick, too black to see anything. She would have to search for the source of the blood by touch.
Karen glanced down at her hands. She didn't like the thought of putting down her gun. So she clamped her phone between her teeth and gingerly, slowly, placed her hand against the wolf's side.
His ribs expanded slightly against her palm on a shallow intake of breath. His fur was so coarse and dark that Karen's pale hand sank into the shadowy depths of his coat. She marveled at the sheer, unbelievable size of him, the sinewy musculature beneath the fur.
Then her fingers found it - the neat, round hole of a bullet wound. The slick heat of blood.
That man had shot him after all. Now he was merely playing a waiting game. Following the wolf's trail until the wolf was too weak to defend himself and the hunter could claim the body.
Karen shook her head as she sat back on her heels. If she left the wolf in the woods, there was no chance he would survive. The blood loss alone had already weakened him. If he lived long enough for infection to set in, that would surely take him down – a slow, painful death.
Anger boiled in Karen's belly at the thought of that hunter killing such a beautiful animal. Then she glanced at the gun in her hand.
The merciful thing would be to put the wolf out of his misery. End his suffering now.
Only a few seconds ago, the trigger's curve beneath her finger had brought her a small measure of comfort. Now, it made her throat feel tight, bile sour in her mouth.
Karen sighed.
"All right, buddy," she said. "Looks like you're coming home with me…" She paused then added, "Somehow."
One look down the dark trail showed Karen still had a long way to go before she reached her car. And this wolf…there was no chance she could pick him up, let alone carry him for any measure of distance. She would have felt better if she could sedate the wolf, prevent him from waking up during transportation. But she didn't have any anesthesia on hand so she would just have to risk it.
Karen unhooked her backpack and dug out her tent. The canvas was still crinkly and shiny-new. She hadn't used it yet but she had a feeling after this trip was over, she was never going camping again anyway.
After wrestling the wolf's bulky frame onto the tent, Karen grabbed two corners of the canvas and pulled. She really had to dig her heels into the dirt to get any traction but at least the wolf was movable now, even if it did mean the hike back to her car would take two or three times as long as before.
By the time Karen reached her car and got the wolf into her clinic, it was nearly midnight. She was muddy, bloody, and every muscle ached. But the wolf was still breathing and she didn't dare wait a minute longer to get that bullet out of him, to stop the bleeding.
She didn't even bother attempting to get the wolf onto the operating table. Instead, Karen knelt beside him on the floor and pumped enough anesthesia into his veins for a horse.
"If that doesn't knock you out," Karen said. "I don't know what will."
After the bullet was removed, the wound cleaned and bandaged, Karen sat with her back against the wall. One hand rested on the wolf's side to monitor his breathing. She would have to move him soon, before he woke up. Put him in one of the kennels out back and hope it was big enough to hold him.
But Karen couldn't leave him yet. Her fingers threaded through his fur, her thumb rubbing against the bandage at his ribs. Another inch and the bullet would have hit his lung. Then there would have been nothing she could do for him.
The longer Karen sat there, the more she noticed about the wolf. Old scars on his face. A few patches of fur missing along his left flank where a bite mark was still healing.
She could feel more ridges of scars beneath his fur – two at his right shoulder, thick and ropy with age. One along his spine, twisted, bumpy. Hadn't healed right.
"You must be one hell of a fighter," Karen murmured.
She yawned, fighting the slow, languid drag of sleep. She had to stay awake. As soon as the wolf started to regain consciousness, she needed to know. She couldn't be in here with a wild wolf who was high on painkillers and half out of his mind with fear at his unfamiliar surroundings.
But Karen's chin drooped toward her chest anyway. And her eyelids slipped closed.
She didn't know what woke her, except that something felt…not quite right.
She flexed her fingers to gauge the wolf's breathing.
Instead, Karen felt warm human skin.
Her head snapped up, eyes wide open.
Lying on the floor of her clinic where the wolf had been was a man. A fully grown man without a stitch of clothing on, except the gauze wrapped around his ribs.