Page 4 of Bewitched by the Werewolf (The Bewitching Hour #5)

Our house is surrounded by the forest we own.

Five hundred acres hidden within the middle of a national forest, plus another square mile that holds the majority of the town.

Which allows us privacy away from prying eyes.

Enabling me to strip down naked right out in the open on my front porch.

Nudity isn’t taboo in the non-human world, many prefer to be naked especially in their true form.

But once again we can never know when a human might wander into our midst even with all our safety measures in place.

I carefully remove my utility belt holding my gun, cuffs, badge and small bag of fairy dust and hang it on a hook just inside the front door.

We may be removed from town but that doesn’t mean I’m going to leave my gun and badge lying around out in the open unattended.

Back on the porch my shirt and pants are removed and flung over the wooden railing followed immediately by my boxer briefs and socks, my boots kicked to the side.

Standing naked and bare the cool breeze blows over my skin and I can smell the forest in it.

Fresh and green with a hint of dirt and leaves.

It soothes the beast inside me but not enough to suppress my need to shift.

Dark grey fur begins to cover my body as my bones break and shift and reform.

I go straight from my human form into my true form, bypassing my wolf form completely.

Stretching nearly eight feet tall, my body grows not only in height but in bulk and muscle.

My chest expanding and filling, my arms elongating, fingers stretching tipped with dark claws.

My knees buckle backwards, and my feet shift into paws.

In less than ten seconds I’ve gone from man to beast and with the first deep inhale through my snout, something inside me clicks into place.

A peace I only feel in this form settles within me.

Finally. I waited too long between shifts, but I can’t risk shifting too often.

My beast can be aggressive and territorial, which, when patrolling is a good thing.

But around others, females emitting sex pheromones and males vying for their attention, my beast can’t be trusted.

I want to trust him because he is me, we are the same.

When a shifter becomes their true beast within our thinking shifts with us.

Becoming more basic and primal. All complex thought and human worries disappear.

Leaving only our base selves. Still us, but simpler.

Mine just happens to be more possessive and aggressive than most.

As such I haven’t shifted around another soul in decades.

It’s worked thus far and I have no reason to change that.

When the blood moon hits, I’ll shift as far away from the others as possible.

Most will congregate around our house, gathering for a meal and socialization before and after their runs.

It’ll be easy to avoid this area, there’s plenty of acreage to make sure I’m alone.

I take off into the woods surrounding me and dig my claws into the dirt, propelling myself faster.

I head north to begin my patrol, checking our property boarders and making sure the sprites that live within the forest are safe.

With Roman and who knows how many other elves sneaking around, we can’t be too careful when it comes to the small but powerful creatures.

Most are friendly and smaller than a dog, rarely leaving the comfort and concealment of nature.

But they are the most magical creatures in our world, nearly immortal and made of pure magic.

Once I reach the northern boarders I circle southwest. The trees blur by as I run down on all fours, using my arms and claws to push me forward.

The soft dirt and grass make my run easy as I dodge branches and tangles of underbrush.

I don’t stop running until nearly thirty minutes later.

Panting heavily, my tongue lulls out of my mouth to cool me down.

I’ve made it to the southwestern region of our land just before town.

Here is where our small one-bedroom cabin lies, a place we use for visiting guests or a place to be alone for a while.

It’s not used very frequently and since we have no one coming into town for the blood moon it should be empty.

When I reach the edge of the forest, however, it doesn’t appear to be empty.

Shifting down into my wolf form I skim the tree line, circling the small plot of land around the cabin.

There’s a light on inside and a car in the driveway I’ve never seen before.

And as sheriff I know all of the vehicles of the locals, this one is new.

At least new to town. It actually looks older, five years at least. Well used and indescript.

Lifting my snout in the air I sniff and try to catch the scent of whoever might be inside.

Hunter wasn’t at home so it could be him.

It’s not his car but maybe an unexpected visitor showed up and he’s lending them the cabin.

I catch a whiff of something that smells like my blood, a possible relative, Ginger maybe.

And something sweeter like mint. The smell isn’t familiar.

Stepping out of the shadow of the trees I creep closer to the small log cabin, trying to get a better look or smell.

I’m halfway to the cabin when a figure passes by the window.

I can’t see who it is because the curtains are drawn but there’s definitely someone inside.

If it isn’t Hunter I can’t trust my beast or my wolf around others. Instead of venturing closer I begin to retreat back to the woods away from the cabin. I’ll just ask Hunter about it later.

Back within the safety of the woods I sprint a few hundred feet into the forest before shifting back to my beast form and continuing back north towards home.