Factors Of Change Ch 05

Hello everyone! I'll start with a small apology for taking so long in updating; those who have read my bio know that I'm a teacher and a mother, and the beginning of the school year is simply a madly hectic time of the year for me. I simply had no time. But look! I managed to get it done. I should warn you that my first updates were rather quick only because it was summertime, and you should probably expect another few weeks before the next chapter. I'm sorry it takes so long, but other priorities have taken place, and I simply can't go to bed at midnight every night anymore. But I check often and feed on your comments. Thank you so much for commenting and emailing with feedback. You are all wonderful.

Once again, many warm thanks to Doctime for his encouraging comments and the editing of this chapter. A big merci goes to my new buddy Payenbrant, as well, who unknowingly helped writing a large chunk of William's lesson.

Enjoy!

***

Chapter 5 : A bad dream, a brain theory, and an epiphany

David was half asleep, his eyes barely open as he stared absentmindedly into the fire. Brandon was unnecessarily poking the fire, moving the logs around using the long, straight stick he'd found as a poker. Nina was next to me, her eyes on her hands as she slowly worked her knife into a small chunk of pine wood, tracing abstract patterns on it. "That's a kitchen knife," Brandon pointed out as he looked at her. "You're going to blunt it."

"It's mine, stop complaining," she said with a smile, not taking her eyes off her work. "I've got another one for cooking."

Brandon snorted softly, knowing better than to argue. He got to his feet and walked over to the edge of our camp, between the two tents where we had piled up enough dry wood to last us a few days. I let my gaze lazily follow him as he bent over the pile of wood to gather a few pieces, before I shut my eyes with a tired sigh. I was lying rather uncomfortably on the uneven ground, my head propped up on a small log, but it had been a long day of trekking in the mountains, and I was unbelievably tired.

I opened one eye and cast a longing look at David's truck, parked a little way down a dark path. I could barely see it, but the moonlight shone on the surface of the hood. Wandering about rocky, steep mountains all day wasn't my thing, really, but Nina had insisted there was an available spot in the boys' truck and that she "sure didn't like the idea of being alone in her tent," so I'd grudgingly accepted to spend part of my vacation in the Rockies. While I had to admit that the scenery was beautiful and that it was a very nice change from my regular urban environment, I was also looking forward to going back to my most underrated amenities, such as warm showers, electric power and private bathrooms. Until then, though, I tried to make the best out of the experience.

I was about to close my eyes again, when I noticed a large shadow flashing past the pick up truck and then back into the trees. I gasped and sat up quickly, squinting between the trees. Had I imagined something? Was it a bear, maybe? We were always careful to keep the food out of their reach. I couldn't hear anything else other than the sound of Brandon's rustling through the pile of campfire wood and Nina's knife scrapping against her chunk of wood. Bears were common in the Rockies, but we were chatting and had a relatively large fire going, and I knew bears don't like noise. Besides, they don't move silently, either, and we would have heard it coming. Still, I felt very uneasy, and kept my eyes on the path leading to the truck.

"You okay?" Brandon asked as he stepped back into the light of the fire. He was carrying an armload of wood and dumped it on the ground at his feet.

"I thought I saw something," I answered with a shake of the head. "Can't see anything now, though. I must have imagined it." I gave him a small smile. "I'm a bit tired."

"Aren't we all?" said a groggy voice to my right, and I turned to see David blinking sleepily. He yawned wide enough to almost dislocate his jaw as he slowly sat up. "I say we should all be in our sleeping bags."

"It's only 9:30," Nina pointed out with a chuckle. "The sky's barely gone dark. It's too early for bed, I say."

"It's not if you're planning on going down the river on a kayak for half of the next day, and then climbing back to camp with the kayak on your shoulders before dinnertime," he grumbled back, and I smirked. I had mixed feelings about the next day's plans as well. Brandon laughed and was about to respond when a loud rustle coming from behind him had us all looking towards the tents.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion, but it couldn't have lasted more than mere seconds. A gigantic, dark grey wolf leaped out from between the two tents and tackled Brandon to the ground with a snarl. I screamed and jumped to my feet, and felt Nina's hand grab onto my arm tightly enough to leave bruises. She shouted something I couldn't understand and pulled hard on my arm, as we turned to frantically run towards the truck. David was behind us, shouting at us to run faster, but his voice was cut short with another vicious snarl.

I sobbed and ran as fast as I could, as everything behind us went silent. Almost silent, all but the quick thump of paws on the dirt. I heard the growling and pushed Nina out of the way, just as something violently tackled me from the back, sending me face first into the ground. I screamed in terror and struggled violently, trying to turn over onto my back, raising my arms to desperately protect my head, my face, my throat. Jaws closed painfully on my left arm and yanked it away from my face, and I screamed in pain as I reached up to push against the dirty fur of the rabid wolf. I could see its white teeth, its angry, crazy amber eyes, and the gleam of the small kitchen knife Nina was trying to use against it. And, over her screaming and mine, over the wolf's snarls as it pulled on my arm and yanked its head left and right and left and right, came the persistent sound of a rap against wood, strong enough to tear through the hazy fog of my dream, and yank me out of it and back into reality.

I woke up with a gasp and opened my eyes to find myself sprawled on the couch in my living room. I'd left the lights off and it was dark, except for the light from the street lamps outside and the bluish glow from the television. It was still on, loudly braying the evening news about a bad car accident in Pointe-aux-Trembles.

I pushed myself up and noticed the cushion I had been laying on had a large wet patch on it. "Ugh," I let out as I reached up to my face, wondering if I'd drooled all over it in my sleep, but found my cheeks to be wet with tears instead. My eyes were burning and I rubbed at them as I sat up, wiping my cheeks dry, until it dawned on me that the sound that had torn through my dream and awakened me was a knock on the door of my apartment.

I got up to answer it, thinking it might be my neighbour asking me to lower the volume of the TV. I turned it off on my way to the door, and heard another knock, this time followed by a very familiar voice. "Leah?" I heard through the door. Gabriel.

"Oh," I gasped softly, as I stood and hurried over to pull the chain and open the door. Light from the hallway instantly poured in and I blinked up at Gabriel like a mole out of the ground. I had enough time to notice the tired lines on his face and his generally disheveled appearance, before his exhausted expression turned to concern as he noticed my undoubtedly red, puffy eyes and wet cheeks.

"Are you crying?" he asked as he stepped in and closed the door behind him. We were plunged into darkness again, but the light from the windows was enough for me to see the frown on his face.

"It's nothing," I let out, waving a hand in dismissal. My voice came out choked and raspy, though, and his frown deepened. "I fell asleep on the couch. I had a bad dream."

He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again with a sigh, reaching out to wrap his arms around me instead. I leaned into him with relief, laying my head on his chest and snaking my arms around his waist to hug him back. We didn't move for a long time as I listened to the slow, steady beat of his heart, slowly relaxing against him as his hand idly smoothed back my hair. "Thank you," I whispered when I had control over my voice again.

"Are you alright?" he asked, looking down at me.

I nodded. "I will be." I opened my eyes and looked up at him. "Are you?"

He gave me a wry smile. "I will be," he mimicked.

I smiled back, although shakily. "We do have a few things to talk about, don't we."

"We do," he agreed, reaching up to stroke my cheek. "Will you tell me why you looked so scared this morning, Lili?"

I stared into his eyes for a long moment before I nodded. "Can we go walk?" I pleaded in a whisper. "I know it's late, but... I need some air." He nodded and I pulled from him to grab a jacket, before we stepped down the stairs and headed outside.

I closed my eyes as the fresh night air hit my face, and breathed in deeply. The air had been stifling inside my apartment, and the warm spring breeze felt wonderful. Gabriel reached out for my hand and I let him take it, moving closer to his side as we turned to stroll down the sidewalk. "Did you find him?" I asked after a moment, realizing I hadn't asked anything about his day. "This... Old MacKenzie?"

He shook his head. "Joey. Joseph MacKenzie," he corrected. "The other guys call his wife his mate because it is the only thing they know. They call him 'Old' to tease him, and he lets them."

"Why would they make fun of him?" I asked with an unladylike snort. "How old is he?"

"64," he answered softly. "Almost 65."

That was only ten years more than my own age, and wasn't old at all. It was considered young for a Were, so... "He's not a Were, is he?" I asked gently. "That's why they call him old. He looks older than a Were would at that age." Of course, I thought: just after they reached adulthood, Weres aged about ten times slower than humans do, and a Born Were in his sixties would barely look older than a human did in his mid-twenties.

Gabriel nodded, and smiled softly. "He'd want me to tell you he does look a bit younger than his real age, though."

I was silent, wondering what this human had to do with Weres. I guessed he knew about them to so easily tolerate the nickname they had given him. "For how long have you known him?"

"Nearly my whole life," he answered. "We grew up together."

I stopped walking and stared up at him, surprised. "You? You're 64?" I finally blurted out.

"63. Do I look so much older?" he teased, arching an eyebrow at me.

I nearly snorted. He looked barely older than his mid-thirties and he knew it. I quickly readjusted my estimation of the time he had been a Were; if he had been turned in his early thirties and hadn't much aged since then, then he hadn't been a Were for much longer than I had. "No, you don't. And he knows about Weres?"

He nodded. "I could hardly hide it from him," he said casually. He reached for my hand again and tugged on it so we would start walking again. "He was there when I was turned into a Were."

I mulled over this new piece of information for a moment. "Why wasn't he turned as well?"

"It was offered to him. He did not want it." He shook his head. "He has six younger brothers and sisters, all very close to him. He did not want to have to leave them."

"And you left yours?" I asked it without really thinking about it, stung at the thought of leaving one's family by choice. Gabriel's expression quickly darkened, though, and his fingers twitched in my grip as he stared at the street ahead.

"No," he said simply. "I am an only child."

I bit my lower lip and squeezed his hand. "Baby, I'm sorry," I whispered. "I didn't mean to—"

"

C'est rien

," he interrupted in a firm, but low voice. He was silent for a moment before he shook his head, as if to dislodge a thought, and let out a deep breath through his nose. "Joey went missing Friday night. We looked everywhere he might have gone today, but we could not find him. It is very unlike him."

"We?" I asked. "Is that you and those... the Six? You mentioned them. Who are they?"

He chuckled softly, relaxing a bit. "It is a nickname they gave themselves. No one else calls them that, it is just..." He shrugged. "We would say 'the six of you', 'the six of us', 'the six betas'... it was just shortened. It is a bit silly, really, but the name has stuck." He glanced down at me. "They are my six closest betas. Cedric, William, Isabelle, Mark, Thomas and Elise. You have already seen most of them."

"Mmhmm. I guessed. Who else knows about Joey Mackenzie?"

"No one," he answered somberly. "Only them. I trust them. They are the ones taking turns in keeping an eye on your home."

"Oh they must be thrilled about

that

."

He smiled softly, looking down at me, and then looked back ahead as we slowly came to a stop at an intersection. "Why would they

not

want to keep you safe, Lili? They are happy for me."

I looked up at him, staring at his perfect face for a long moment. This felt like the moment before a bungee jump, I reflected: I trusted Gabriel as I trusted the rope, but there was still that fear, that tiny risk that the rope would snap, and I would break my neck hitting the ground. "I need to tell you something," I said in a quick breath, before I could change my mind. His features took an interested expression, and I could tell he knew what I was talking about, but I said it anyway. "About... about the way I was turned."

"You only said you did not know who it was that turned you," he said slowly. I nodded, swallowing hard, and he sighed. He reached for my hand as he started walking again, lacing his fingers with mine as he held my hand firmly tucked into the crook of his arm. "It will be easier if we walk. Go ahead."

"I don't know who it was, because he didn't stop to tell me," I said, closing my eyes and leaning against him as I recalled the terror of my dream. "It was a rogue, Gab. I was camping with friends in Banff, thirty years ago, and he attacked our camp."

He didn't freeze or stop walking, but his features darkened noticeably, and his fingers tightened compulsively over mine. "Did he bite all of you?"

"He killed two of my friends, and bit me in the arm. We made it out in time for Nina to get out of it without a scratch." I smiled weakly and opened my eyes, keeping them on my shoes as we walked. "She slashed it across the face with her knife to save me. It gave up on us and ran away, and she drove me to the nearest hospital. It should have been a two hour drive, and it took only one. She was a brave girl, Nina."

"What happened to it?" he asked in a tensed tone. "The rogue?"

I shook my head. "I don't know, Gabriel."

"What about the local pack?" He paused, looking down at me. He looked upset, of course, and I really hoped it wasn't directed towards me. "Did they contact you? Help you?"

"No. Not that I know of, anyway. We took a plane back home as soon as we could." I pursed my lips nervously. "Gabriel, I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he said, obviously making a gracious effort not to snap. "The Banff pack should have taken care of you, Leah. They should have helped you with the change."

"I left before they could, Gab. It's not their fault. Besides, they probably took care of the rogue."

He snorted softly, but didn't voice his doubt about that possibility. "What happened then, Lili?" he asked in a more gentle tone. He stopped us and turned to face me. "When you shifted, what did you do?"

"I felt strange, of course. My arm healed twice as quickly as it should have," I answered. "Then I started shifting. During my sleep. I would have dreams where I was an animal, walking around my apartment, and I would wake up in the morning in my living room or in the kitchen, completely naked, with my clothes laying in shreds in my bed and claw markings on the inside of my apartment door. I was terrified," I ended softly. "I looked into it, found information and folklore about werewolves that I would have found ridiculous in any other situation. I couldn't believe it, but I knew it was a matter of time before the wolf I turned into managed to get out of my home, and hurt someone. And somehow, I knew there would be no coming back from

that

if it happened."

Gabriel was staring down at me, a shocked look on his face. Little wonder he was: I had literally been inches away from going rogue. That was the very reason turning a human against his will was illegal. I should have been taken care of by a pack. I should have been taught how to control the shifting and stay conscious throughout, but as it was, I had to learn by myself.

"I knew I needed to find a place where I would be alone," I continued. "I would drive all the way over to New Jersey, to Warthon State Forest. It was the largest I could find. I would go there during the weekend, go deep into the woods, and set up camp there over night. It took a while, but I slowly stopped shifting at home. I started getting glimpses of consciousness while I was in wolf form, going through the woods. And she started speaking to me," I ended in a whisper. "My wolf, in my mind. That was what she wanted, I think. To be set free, in nature. She was probably feeling trapped, waking up in my apartment. So we made a deal. I took her to run in the woods once a week, and she left me alone the rest of the week."

"You made a deal with your wolf," Gabriel repeated, sounding slightly confused at the idea.

I nodded. "It worked well for years. Then I realized I wasn't aging," I said with a sigh. "Everyone was getting into their thirties, getting fat, feeling more tired... I just didn't age. I felt the same, every day. And I knew I would have to leave eventually, before someone noticed. I stayed until I my 35

th

birthday. I had been a Were for ten years and I couldn't stay. I left for good," I finally ended, a large lump in my throat. "It's been twenty years since I've seen anyone. I haven't gone back since."

Gabriel sighed and stepped closer to pull me to his chest. He hugged me tight, and pressed his lips to my temple in a gentle kiss. "I am sorry," he whispered. "So sorry you had to live through all of that on your own. I wish I had been there before to help you."

"So do I," I whispered into his neck. I closed my eyes and relished in his warmth and familiar scent for a long time. "It could be a problem, you know," I eventually said. I didn't look up to him, keeping my face in the crook of his shoulder instead. "Some packs don't tolerate unwillingly Turned werewolves."

"Because they are unstable in the beginning, and cannot control themselves. But you have been a Were for thirty years, and have never caused trouble," he pointed out, and tightened his arms around me. "It is not a problem, Lili. It never will be."

I let out a long, shaky breath, and felt the weight of years of worry slowly ebb from my shoulders. "Oh thank you," I whispered, and felt the lump grow in my throat, this time with overwhelming relief. "Thank you so much for that."

He chuckled breathlessly, surprised, and looked down at me. "What else did you expect me to say?"

"I don't know," I said, barely controlling the quiver in my voice. "I don't know. I was just scared. I knew you wouldn't want to push me away, but that maybe the pack... the pack would force you to do it."

"Oh Lili," he whispered, smiling down at me as he reached up and cupped my face. "I would not let my pack do anything to ever hurt you. They never will." His lips twitched up a bit more. "And I cannot push you away. I could never say no to you,

ma chérie

."