Pack Mentality

Bonus Chapter 5

Bonus Chapter 5: Pack Mentality

2000

“Where are you transforming for your moonset this month? Since those old zoo cages you found are out?” Cayden asked seconds after Wendell walked out of his science fiction lit class.

“Please don’t tell me you have my class schedule memorized,” Wendell groaned.

“I’m not stalking you, Wen,” Cayden said.

“It’s starting to feel like it,” Wendell grumbled.

“I have my class right there,” Cayden pointed it out, “I saw you head into this class at the same time I went into mine. It’s just luck that we’re in the same place at the same time.”

“Luck, huh?” Wendell asked skeptically.

“Fine, how about coincidence?”

Wendell reluctantly nodded. That was better. He started to walk away.

“I’m serious, though,” Cayden said, matching Wendell’s pace and lowering his voice, “Where are you transforming this month? It’s almost the full moon.”

“No need to tell me that. I feel it,” Wendell said grimly. He hated how ill he felt before his moonset. Nothing seemed to ever help it either.

“You feel it?” Cayden frowned, as if that wasn’t a normal thing to say. “How much are you resisting the change?”

Wendell opted to ignore that. “I go through my moonset at DONHE’s containment unit or in a mini moving van I rent and drive out to a remote location. My best friend Aurora used to help me with the restraints. I’ve gotten good at doing them myself.”

Cayden suddenly came to a halt. “DONHE?! Restraints?!” Cayden looked at Wendell like Wendell sprouted a second head. “You can’t be serious. That’s no way to spend your moons.”

“It’s not like I have any other options,” Wendell grumbled.

“Well, Wen, you do now. One of the Howley-Kirkwood packlands isn’t too far from here. I want you to come with me for it.”

“Come with you,” Wendell repeated. “But what about your cousins?”

“Oh, there’s enough room for all of us. Don’t worry about that,” Cayden said brightly. “Do you have a car on campus?”

Wendell shook his head.

“No problem. I’ll pick you up, and we’ll go together,” Cayden beamed.

One Week Later

“Are all packs like yours? Hyphenated?” Wendell asked as Cayden drove them off campus in his sleek SUV. Wendell was determined to make this the least awkward car ride.

Cayden turned down the radio a few clicks. “Usually. Most packs are two families uniting. They’re not always hyphenated, but more often than not, that’s the way werewolf families identify themselves. The Howley-Kirkwoods are one of the older packs. You’ll find out, if you haven’t already, that not all packs are the same quality. Some packs you’ll see are more… well… have better reputations than others, and for good reason.”

“Ok,” Wendell said with a stiff laugh.

“I have a pedigree,” Cayden said simply.

“A pedigree,” Wendell repeated. His eyebrows shot up with amusement.

“I’m a purebred,” Cayden said proudly, “And I mean it. Some packs are more exceptional. In all ways.”

“It just keeps getting better,” Wendell said with an awkward laugh.

“I’m serious, Wen. The Howley-Kirkwoods are full of good people doing good things. Some packs really do make the best people. I’m not even just talking lawyers, nurses, doctors. We’re also talking entrepreneurs and philanthropists, advocates, and activists.”

“Okay…” Wendell said.

“Some of those other packs are full of shady, crooked types. We’re talking about the types of scumbag attorneys that’ll defend rapists or murderers, greedy business owners who mistreat their staff and employees, the heads of corporations that are polluting the planet, therapists who gaslight their patients, and social workers who will break apart families to make a quick buck. Some of them are drug dealers, too,” Cayden continued.

“Point taken,” Wendell said. “So what are the Howley-Kirkwoods like?”

Cayden lit up. He eagerly took Wendell through his extensive family tree.

“Wait! I’m not meeting your parents and whole family, am I?!” Wendell blurted in a high-pitched voice.

“Nope. We have more than one packlands. I chose this one because it’s closest to school,” Cayden said.

“Closest, huh?” Wendell said questioningly. This drive was already nearing two hours.

“It’s less than ten minutes away from here,” Cayden said innocently. “Did you pack everything you needed? Or do we need to make a pit stop?”

“I’m good,” Wendell said, wishing that also meant everything else was good.

During the span of the drive, the urban environment around them grew less industrial and greener and wilder. Buildings were few and far between, and trees outnumbered them by the dozens.

“It’s down here,” Cayden said as he drove his car down a long, winding driveway.

The gravel stones crackled under his tires as he pulled into a huge three-car garage. The other two spots were empty.

“We’ll walk the rest of the way from here,” Cayden said, hauling his duffel bag up. “Need help with yours?”

Wendell shook his head as he shouldered his bag.

The stones crunched under their feet as they walked what felt like half a mile before they finally approached the tall walls.

“Here it is,” Cayden said, “Home. Well, one of them.”

He punched numbers into a keypad, and the door glided open.

“After you,” Cayden coaxed Wendell through.

As Wendell stepped through the door, he felt like he was going from one world into another. He gasped. It was an entire forest with a vast pond. It was so gorgeous it took his breath away. “How does this exist?!” Wendell swung around to look at Cayden.

With a self-satisfied smile, Cayden just shrugged. “The Howley-Kirkwoods have good taste.”

Wendell walked closer to the pond. Marveling at it. It reminded him of his grandparents’ house and the spring when Wylan went missing. It’d been years and Wylan was back now, but things were never the same again. Wendell fought back tears.

Stay present, he chastised himself.

He looked around, his head swiveling this way and that. There was an entire menagerie of animals behind these walls, too.

Squirrels chasing each other in the grass, colorful birds singing in the trees, rabbits bounding in berry-covered bushes, and even a stag with a full rack of antlers keeping watch over playful fawns, frolicking in the grass. It was enough that he almost forgot about the heavily fortified walls and gates behind him. As he scanned the highest parts of them, he noticed armed guards.

He swallowed thickly and felt cold all over.

“It’s okay. I know it’s a lot to take in. This is some real-life medieval castle shit,” Cayden said casually. “Although no one is chopping anyone’s heads off or setting entire villages on fire. No plagues either.”

“Goodie,” Wendell said nervously.

“It’s okay, Wen, seriously. The people patrolling the gates and walls are loyal to our pack.”

“Are they human?” Wendell asked.

“No. But they look like it, and they care about keeping us and the innocent people in the areas around us safe, and that’s what matters most.”

Wendell nodded in agreement.

“Here, lemme give you the grand tour,” Cayden said, throwing his arms out and whirling around in a circle.

He explained how the packlands were more like a sanctuary than anything, and ran down all of its features and perks.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Wendell said in a hushed voice.

“Beats locking yourself in one of those rusty old abandoned zoo cages, huh?” Cayden grinned. “It’s fully stocked with prey at all times, too,” Cayden pointed at the herd of deer grazing.

Wendell’s heart sank. “Oh yeah. Can’t forget that.”

“You don’t look excited,” Cayden asked cautiously.

“I’m a vegetarian,” Wendell grimaced at the deer.

“Not during your moons, you’re not,” Cayden said. “Or if you are, you’re starving your wolf, and no wonder you feel so awful.”

“I never said I felt awful,” Wendell frowned and crossed his arms.

“You don’t need to. It’s written all over you,” Cayden said gently, putting another hand on Wendell. “I’m just saying, if you’re hiding and starving your wolf and neglecting and abusing him over and over—”

“I’m not,” Wendell said fiercely.

“When was the last time you let your wolf run free? And I mean really run. Your wolf needs to hunt, eat, chase, and explore,” Cayden said.

“Never,” Wendell sighed. “I’ve never done … any of that…” He admitted, suddenly feeling ashamed.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re here now,” Cayden squeezed Wendell’s shoulder. “Keeping all of that pent up inside and trying to smother it into not existing… it’s no good, Wen. Tonight you’re going to see exactly how good it feels to let your wolf run free. To let him eat as much as he wants, take as much as he wants, and be as much as he wants.”

“Goodie,” Wendell said again, trying hard to believe it.

“I hate this, I hate this part the most,” Wendell said. “The change is agony. The actual transformation. But that happens so fast. This though? The hours and hours of anticipation. The slow build as it gets closer and closer as the minutes tick by. And my body it… it starts to…panic… to rebel even…”

Wendell paced, repeatedly looking up at the night sky.

Cayden was lounging behind him, fully naked on a checkered picnic blanket in the grass.

“Is it the purge that gets you?” Cayden asked sympathetically. “I hear that from people who weren’t born wolves. Who were turned…”

Wendell’s breathing got shorter and more ragged. His stomach cramped and gurgled, and he held in the drool that wanted to pool out of his mouth.

“Wait, you’re telling me you don’t have all of that… stuff… coming out?” Wendell croaked.

Wylan used to call them “Wen’s moon shits and puke” because that’s what would happen. He’d be on the toilet or hunched over it for hours. It always happened at some point during his three-night moonset.

“It gets easier, it gets less intense once you give your wolf what he needs. C’mere,” He patted the blanket for Wendell to sit next to him.

Wendell tried to ignore Cayden’s fully nude body and hesitantly sat on the corner.

“I don’t have the plague,” Cayden said dryly.

Wendell scooted a little closer.

Cayden leaned towards him and squeezed Wendell’s shoulder and rubbed a big circle on his back.

Wendell fought the urge to growl in his throat.

“Those too,” Cayden said, as if he read Wendell’s mind. “Vocalizations and muting your wolf, silencing his voice? Wen, your wolf isn’t in such good shape, is he? Look,” Cayden grinned. He tossed his head back. The rising moon and its silvery light illuminated him as he let out a howl.

Wendell wanted to laugh. To snort and shake his head. But it wasn’t comical. The howl hit him in a way he didn’t expect and without thinking, he closed his eyes, tilted his head up and howled right back.

“YES! That PASSION!” Cayden pumped up a fist. “How does that feel?”

“Great, actually,” Wendell admitted with a shy smile.

”Hell yeah, it did! But, hey, you’re not transforming with your clothes on are you?” Cayden eyed Wendell’s jeans.

Wendell fought hard not to look at Cayden’s naked body… and particularly the area between his legs.

“No, of course not!” Wendell said indignantly. “I’ll wait until it gets closer, okay?”

“Mmm, you do you,” Cayden said casually. “Look,” he pointed up at the night sky. “Have you ever heard the story about that constellation?”

Wendell shook his head, and Cayden eagerly jumped into it. He was an amazing storyteller.

“We always did this with my pack. When I was little,” Cayden said.

“Naked star gazing?” Wendell asked, trying not to laugh.

Cayden didn’t have the same resistance and laughed hard. “Mhm. It lightened the mood. Especially for the new wolves. The ones who hadn’t turned yet.”

Wendell cried out, and fell onto all fours. His back hunched and arched. The drool he’d been holding in, leaked out and he dry heaved.

“Don’t fight it,” Cayden said.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Wendell fought to get the words out. It was getting harder to talk. And in a few minutes, words wouldn’t mean anything to him anymore.

He yelped and groaned. He squirmed out of his shirt and wriggled out of his jeans and underwear. His hands weren’t working, so his socks stayed on.

He fought against the change, thrashing on the ground, like an invisible demon was tormenting him. He wanted to say something but only a low, mournful yowl came out.

He turned over to look at Cayden, and instead of the naked man lounging on the blanket, a magnificent red wolf blinked back at him. His eyes were bright and intelligent. He yawned once, then shook his head. He made a playful noise, and with his mouth open into a grin and his tongue lolling out, he dashed away, fluffy tail held high.

“You’re leaving me!” Wendell tried to scream after him, but his human vocal chords were already shredded, and only a whimper and canine groan came out. His arms and legs shuddered violently and he collapsed onto the ground, his face pressed into the dirt.

You ass, Cayden. Screw you for leaving me like—

Wendell’s head shot back and he howled his loudest, longest, howl. He could smell the other wolf, and his invitation to hunt together. He sprinted, the dirt spraying out behind his paws. The bloody socks on the ground behind him fluttered like fallen birds.