Ravenwood(100)
Elinore trembled, able to smell the blood of Hayter’s body, the quickly changing scent of his decay and death. She’d done that. She whined again, pushing her snout into the small space between Caleb’s arm and his torso. She tried to push the scent of Hayter out of her nose by breathing in Caleb, calming her nerves. She felt his arms come beneath her and with a pained grunt (she recalled only at the last moment that he was still hurt as well), he hefted her up. She yipped as the movement jostled her injuries and he made a quiet shushing sound. He stood, shifting her weight so that she could rest her head on his shoulder as he made his way through the forest, back to Ravenwood, back to her home.
Chapter Twenty One
Elinore’s dreams as a wolf were strange - the colors were muted, but the sounds were sharper. Instead of her human form walking through the woods and coming upon the wolf, it was the other way around. She was four-legged and she wandered through the forest, coming upon her human self in a clearing. Her human body laid peacefully on the ground, curled up, eyes closed, asleep. Elinore padded over, watching her white paws against the muddy, mossy earth. As she came upon her human body, she could see its chest rising and falling slowly, eyelashes twitching. She nosed at herself, pushing her snout into the soft folds of the dress her body wore. She could feel the body stir and Elinore became confused. As the human body opened her eyes, she could see through them as well as through the eyes of her wolf form. She could see herself as both human and wolf, at the same time. She was the she-wolf, and she was the human woman waking from a deep sleep. She lifted her human hand, and reached out to touch her own soft fur, feeling both the smooth strands under her skin, and the press of human flesh against her neck. It was dizzying. She pressed forward as the wolf and at the same time, reached out as the human. Suddenly, there was only her human form left in the forest - the wolf now beneath her skin, curling into a contented ball and going to sleep.
Elinore blinked awake, unsure of her surroundings and unsure of herself as well. She was on her side, in a bed, a heavy, warm weight behind her. She inhaled, cataloguing the scents and found it easy to place herself now. She was in Caleb’s room, in his bed, with him behind her.
And she was human.
She freed one of her hands from under the covers, holding it up. The early morning light was streaming in through a crack in the curtains. With it, she examined her long and human fingers, her short and blunt fingernails, her pale and fragile human skin.
The events of the night prior were not like her usual memories. They were fragmented and jumbled. She wondered if it was because of what she’d done, or if it was because of her transformation to the wolf.
That thought made Elinore pause. She was now a werewolf. She’d shifted fully into a wolf and had shifted back to human. According to Caleb and Mrs. Davenport, she’d be a shape-shifter for the remainder of her life. A strange giddiness rushed up her body and a smile broke across her face. How extraordinary.
Her smile faded as she thought of what she’d done. She’d killed Hayter. She could remember the hot spray of blood as she tore his throat out and while she still felt a certain animal satisfaction at stopping a threat to her home, her pack, she was troubled by what she’d done. She’d do it again if she had to, but she dearly hoped she’d never have to.
Elinore recalled Caleb’s hands the night before, back at Ravenwood, steady and gentle as he wet some rags and cleaned her muzzle and her fur. He’d moved slowly and calmly, laying her down in front of a fire. She’d trembled as he worked, a high-pitched whine escaping her every few minutes, unbidden. Finally, she’d been clean and when he’d gone to dispose of the water and rags, she’d managed to pad her way over to the bed and hop up, still feeling pain in her flanks and chest, but finding her body already healing. Caleb had long slashes across his chest and they scared her too. Her last memory before she fell asleep was that of Caleb, still human, getting into bed and curling around her, his own wounds covered in bandages finally. She’d been exhausted. But safe.
She must have shifted to her human form sometime during the night and she wondered if her dream had anything to do with it, or if it had only been symbolic. Elinore supposed she could ask Caleb when he awoke. Curious to find out if her body was still the same after her transformation, she carefully shifted and moved her limbs, taking stock. She realized with a sudden start that she was naked and although she supposed it made sense when she thought about it, it made her blush. Another realization came upon the heels of that one - Caleb was equally naked in bed with her. She could feel the press of his skin against hers and, not so shockingly as it should be, the length of his manhood hot and hard against her backside.
Elinore felt her cheeks go red. How decadent, to be naked in bed with a man, with Caleb. She shifted again, reveling in the feel of her skin moving against his, feeling the coarse hair of his legs, stomach and chest against her. It was sensuous and luxurious. She thought, rather amusedly, that if she were a cat, she’d be purring. But she wasn’t a cat, she was a wolf.
Caleb’s arm lay heavy around her waist, but as Elinore shimmied and wriggled, his arm tightened, whether to pull her closer or to still her, she wasn’t sure. It brought her closer to him and she threaded her own fingers through his, pressing his hand to splay against the soft round of her stomach. He made a low, contended sound - a hum or a happy growl. The sound ran through her veins and collected deep in her belly, filling her with heat and a shivering sort of feeling. Elinore moved again - a sort of clumsy rocking of her hips, feeling her body trapped between Caleb’s long form behind her, and his palm on her stomach. She wasn’t sure which way she wanted to move more - forward or back.