Empire of the howling moon

Chapter 7

The pain was worse than anything Elena had described. Worse than dying. Stewart collapsed to the floor, spine arching as his skeleton restructured itself. His jaw stretched, teeth elongating into fangs. Fur erupted through his skin like a million needles piercing from inside out.

He tried to scream but the sound came out as a howl.

Elena burst back in, holding him down with supernatural strength as his body convulsed. "Don't fight it! Let it happen!"

But Stewart couldn't stop fighting. His human mind clung desperately to consciousness as the wolf tried to take over. The collision of two beings in one body created a psychic agony that transcended physical pain.

"You're making it worse!" Elena shouted. Other hands joined hers. Rowan. Marlene. Gabriel. Holding him down as he thrashed. "Let go, Stewart! Let the wolf have control!"

He couldn't. If he let go, he'd lose himself. Lose everything that made him human. But his body was changing whether he accepted it or not. His hands became paws, claws extending. His face elongated into a muzzle. His senses exploded with overwhelming input, a thousand scents, a hundred sounds, the heartbeat of every living thing in the lodge.

And then, between one moment and the next, Stewart Lennox ceased to exist.

The wolf stood on four legs, shaking off the hands that held it. It was larger than a natural wolf, nearly the size of a small bear, with gray-black fur and eyes that burned gold. Around it, other wolves circled. Pack. Family. Brothers and sisters in blood and hunt.

The largest wolf, Alpha, pack leader, dominant, approached. 

The gray wolf recognized Rowan's scent even in this form. 

Rowan nudged him, testing, establishing hierarchy. The gray wolf lowered its head, submitting. Some instinct older than thought told it this was necessary. Survival.

Rowan led the pack outside. Twilight painted the forest in shades of purple and red. The gray wolf's enhanced senses painted the world in a completely different spectrum, not colors but scents, sounds, movements. Prey was everywhere.

 Small things rustling in the underbrush. Larger things deeper in the forest. The urge to hunt was overwhelming.

Rowan howled and the pack answered. Then they ran.

The gray wolf followed, reveling in the power of its new body. It could cover ground at impossible speeds, leap over obstacles that would stop a human, sense prey from hundreds of yards away. The forest was no longer a barrier but a playground.

A deer burst from cover ahead. The pack split, flanking it with practiced coordination. The gray wolf found itself in the chase, legs pumping, gaining on the terrified animal.

 Some distant part of it recognized this was wrong, that it was a man hunting an innocent creature. But the wolf didn't care. The wolf only knew hunger.

The deer tried to leap a ravine but didn't make it. It fell, leg breaking with an audible snap. The pack descended. The gray wolf got there first, jaws closing on the deer's throat. Hot blood filled its mouth. The deer kicked once, twice, then went still.

The pack fed.

Later, much later, the gray wolf found itself by a stream, muzzle red with blood, stomach full. The frenzy had passed. 

In its place came a strange clarity. The wolf could think now, process, understand. It was Stewart and not-Stewart simultaneously. Beast and man in uncomfortable coexistence.

A silver wolf approached—Elena. She sat beside him, calm and ancient. In wolf form, communication was different. Not words but images, emotions, intentions projected directly mind to mind.

“You did well. The first kill is always the hardest.”

“I murdered it. The gray wolf's thought was anguished. Tore it apart.”

“You fed. The wolf needs to feed. Denying it will only make you dangerous.” 

Elena's mental voice was patient. “You think you're a monster now. But you controlled the kill. Made it quick. Didn't torture the prey. That's more than most people manage their first time.”

“I didn't control anything. The wolf did what it wanted.”

The wolf is you now. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you find balance.”

 Elena stood, shaking water from her fur.

“Come. The night isn't over. You need to learn to change back.”

The pack had gathered in a clearing lit by the full moon. 

Rowan stood at the center in human form, naked and unbothered. Around him, other pack members were transitioning back, bones cracking, fur receding, bodies reshaping. It looked agonizing but they endured it with practiced ease.

“Your turn”, Rowan's thought projected. “Find your human form. Remember who you were. Reach for it.”

The gray wolf tried. Concentrated on Stewart Lennox. Husband, Father, Man. But the wolf fought back, wanting to stay free. The struggle was internal and absolute.

“You have to want it more than the wolf does”, Marlene's voice cuts through the mental noise. She stood in human form now, hands on her hips. “Prove you're stronger than the beast.”

The gray wolf snarled at her, defensive. She snarled back, baring very human teeth that still seemed threatening. 

“Do it now or we'll assume you can't control yourself and you'll spend the rest of the night in a cage.”

The threat worked. The gray wolf reached deeper, found something human buried beneath fur and instinct. Grabbed it. Pulled. The transformation reversed, excruciating in different ways. When it finished, Stewart Lennox knelt naked in the dirt, gasping, covered in blood that wasn't his.

"There you are." Rowan helped him stand. "How do you feel?"

Stewart looked at his human hands, still seeing claws. "Like a murderer."

"Like a survivor." Rowan handed him clothes.

 "That deer fed you. Fed the wolf. Satisfied the hunger that would have made you dangerous to people you care about. This is necessary, Stewart. This is what keeps your family safe."

"By turning me into a monster."

"By giving you power." Rowan's eyes flashed gold. "And teaching you to control it. Come inside. We need to talk about what happens next."

The lodge felt different now, less threatening. The pack members who'd hunted with him nodded as he passed, acknowledging him as one of them. Thomas clapped him on the shoulder.

 "Told you it was amazing! Nothing like the hunt, right?"

Stewart wanted to disagree but couldn't. Part of him, the wolf part, had reveled in it. Freedom, power, the simplicity of predator and prey. That terrified him more than anything else.

In a private room, Rowan poured whiskey. Stewart drank it gratefully, trying to wash the taste of blood from his mouth.

"Tomorrow you go back to your normal life," Rowan said. 

"But you're different now. Changed. You'll need to be careful. The wolf is always there, just under the surface. Strong emotions can trigger a partial transformation. Anger especially."

"How am I supposed to hide this from Claire?"

"Very carefully." Rowan settled into a chair. "The pack has protocols. Techniques for maintaining the mask. Elena will teach you. But Stewart, eventually, your wife will notice. They always do."

"Then what?"

"Then you have a choice. Bring her in, tell her the truth, maybe even turn her if she's willing. Or..." Rowan paused. "Or you separate. For her safety and yours."

"You want me to leave my family."

"I want you to be realistic about what you are now. You're not fully human anymore. Your priorities have to change. The pack comes first. Always."

Stewart's hand clenched around the glass. "No. I can make this work. I can protect them without abandoning them."

"We'll see." Rowan stood, ending the conversation. "Get some rest. Tomorrow starts your real training. How to control the wolf. How to use your abilities. How to serve the pack properly."

Stewart was given a room in the lodge. He lay in bed staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. The wolf prowled restlessly inside him, wanting to hunt again. He could hear the pack throughout the building, breathing, heartbeats, whispers conversations. His hearing had improved even in human form.

A knock on the door. Julia entered without waiting for permission, carrying a bag.

"Couldn't sleep either?" She sat on the edge of his bed. 

"First night after the first change is always weird. You're not quite human, not quite wolf. Stuck in between."

"Does it get easier?"

"Yes and no. You learn to manage it. Learn to exist as both. But you never stop being a monster, Stewart. You just learn to hide it better." Julia pulled items from her bag, herbs, oils, and a leather-bound journal. 

"These help. Meditation techniques, grounding exercises, old pack wisdom passed down for centuries."

"Why are you helping me?"

"Because I remember what it's like. Being trapped. Being scared. Being desperate." Julia's expression darkened. 

"And because I want you to know something. Rowan isn't the only option. There are other packs. Smaller ones. Some that don't operate like criminal enterprises."

Stewart sat up. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that in a few months, when you've learned control, when you understand what you've become, you'll have choices. Don't let Rowan convince you this is the only way."

 She pressed the journal into his hands. 

"Read this. A woman named Sarah kept it. She escaped Rowan's pack twenty years ago. Started her own. She lives quietly, doesn't hurt people unless she has to. If you ever want out, she might help."

"If Rowan finds out you're telling me this"

"He'll kill me. I know. But someone has to tell the new ones the truth." Julia stood. "Just think about it. You're not as trapped as you feel."

She left. Stewart opened the journal, reading by moonlight. Sarah's story was harrowing, turned against her will, forced into violence, eventually fleeing with two others. They'd created a small pack, only five members, living in rural Montana. Hunting animals, staying hidden, building something that resembled a normal life.

It was possible. Escape was possible.

But as Stewart read, he heard voices from the main room. 

Rowan and Marlene, discussing business. Territory disputes with the Northside Collective were escalating. 

Three pack members had been killed in skirmishes. Rowan was planning retaliation.

And Stewart was now part of that war. Whether he wanted to be or not.

His phone buzzed. Claire.

“Are you okay? You haven't called. I'm worried.”

Stewart stared at the message. What could he possibly say? How could he explain where he was, what he'd done, what he'd become? He started typing a dozen different responses, deleting each one.

“I'm fine. Training is intense. I'll be home tomorrow. Love you.”

 “Okay. Miss you. Kids miss you too.”

Stewart set down the phone, guilt crushing his chest. He killed tonight. Torn apart a living creature with his own jaws. And some dark part of him had enjoyed it.

Outside his window, wolves howled in the distance. The pack, still running, still hunting, still reveling in their freedom.

And inside Stewart's chest, his wolf answered, eager to join them.