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3_ Wolf within

The days that followed were a blur of learning. Dylan took it upon himself to teach me the basics of the world I had never known. He was patient, explaining how things worked—showing me how to use the oven, explaining the strange purpose of a washing machine, and even teaching me how to navigate through the endless channels on the TV. He gave me books to read, explaining what each device and tool was, and I was a fast learner, absorbing every word like a sponge. Each new piece of knowledge fascinated me.

I had come a long way since the day I found myself lost in a human world, and I was starting to settle into a routine. When Dylan left for school during the day, I would spend hours watching movies and observing the world through the screen. Every time he came home in the evening, I felt a surge of excitement, like a child eager to see a beloved friend. I’d rush to the door to greet him, the sound of his footsteps sparking joy inside me. His presence made everything feel less strange and intimidating.

One evening, after he returned, I bounced up to him as usual, eager to talk. But instead, he smiled and asked, “Do you want to go out?”

My eyes widened at his question. “Where?”

“Anywhere,” he replied, shrugging with a casualness that made me laugh. “You’ve been stuck inside for days, Katrina. I feel bad.”

The idea of going outside thrilled me. “Yes!” I answered, practically buzzing with excitement.

“Great,” Dylan said, but then he paused, looking a bit uncertain. “Uh… what are you going to wear, though? You don’t exactly have… girl clothes.”

I glanced down at the clothes I’d been wearing—his oversized t-shirts and shorts. “I’m fine like this,” I said, not caring about the strange looks people might give me. Clothes didn’t matter to me as much as they seemed to matter to humans.

Dylan hesitated but then nodded. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

We left the apartment and wandered down the street until we reached a small bakery. The smell of fresh pastries filled the air, and I marveled at how many different kinds of bread and sweets there were. Dylan ordered for both of us, and soon we were sitting outside the shop, enjoying our snacks. The simple pleasure of being outside, of watching people go by while sitting with Dylan, filled me with contentment.

But as we made our way back, something strange happened. A man walking his dog passed by us, and suddenly, the dog began barking wildly. At first, I flinched, startled by the noise, but as I turned to look at the animal, something deep inside me stirred.

The barking continued, loud and aggressive, but instead of fear, I felt a strange pull. The dog’s gaze locked onto mine, its body tense, and I couldn’t help but stare back. Something about the dog reminded me of my wolf form—the way its muscles moved, the sharpness in its eyes. I stood frozen, mesmerized.

“Katrina, it’s just a dog,” Dylan said beside me, placing a gentle hand on my arm. “Don’t be scared.”

But I wasn’t scared. I couldn’t move because something inside me had awakened, something primal and powerful. As the man walked on, tugging at the leash, the dog suddenly broke free, running toward me, barking even louder. Without thinking, I bent my knees slightly, lowering myself into a stance I hadn’t used in a long time—an attack stance, ready to fight.

The dog stopped short. Its bark turned into a whimper, and it backed away, frightened. I could feel my heart pounding, my instincts roaring to life. Before I could do anything, Dylan stepped in front of me, his body a shield between me and the dog. The man came rushing back, grabbing his dog and apologizing profusely. I barely heard him as my entire body hummed with energy.

When Dylan turned to face me, his eyes were wide with shock. “Katrina, your eyes…”

Confused, I blinked at him. “What about them?”

“Come on,” he muttered, grabbing my hand and pulling me into a nearby alley. His grip was tight, almost urgent. “We need to get out of sight.”

The alley was dark and narrow, and the sounds of the busy street faded as we stood there. I watched Dylan pace in front of me, his face pale.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, genuinely confused.

“Your eyes,” he said, his voice low. “They were yellow.”

I stared at him, my heart sinking. Yellow? The color of a wolf’s eyes. How could that be?

“I don’t know what happened,” I admitted, my voice shaky. “But I… I felt something. Something inside me. It’s my wolf.”

Dylan ran a hand through his hair, clearly overwhelmed. “We’ve been over this, Katrina. You’re not a wolf. You’re human. We both know that.”

I shook my head, stepping toward him. “No, Dylan. I’m not human. I never was. My wolf… she’s still inside me, and she’s trying to come out.”

He stared at me, disbelief written all over his face. “You can’t be serious. We’ve been through this. You’ve been living like a human. You’re adjusting.”

“I know,” I said, feeling frustrated and helpless. “But that doesn’t change what I am. Please, you have to believe me.”

But he didn’t. His silence spoke volumes. “Let’s just go home,” he finally said, turning away from me. The disappointment in his voice cut deep, and I felt a knot tighten in my chest.

The walk back was quiet, the excitement of the evening shattered by the strange encounter. When we reached the apartment, Dylan muttered something about going to bed and disappeared into his room. I went to mine, my thoughts racing. How could I prove to him that I was telling the truth? How could I make him see that my wolf was still a part of me?

Sleep didn’t come easily, and when I finally drifted off, my dreams were haunted by flashes of my past. I saw a young girl playing in the forest, laughing with a teenage boy who looked so familiar. Then, there was a loud sound, and the boy froze, blood pouring from his chest. The girl screamed, and so did I.

I woke up gasping, my body drenched in sweat. Before I could make sense of it, Dylan burst into the room, looking worried. “Katrina, are you okay?”

I nodded, wiping the sweat from my forehead. “I… I had a bad dream. I’m sorry I woke you. I didn't mean to scream.”

But Dylan shook his head. “You didn’t scream,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You howled.”

The shock hit me like a tidal wave. “I… I howled?”

He nodded, his eyes filled with fear and confusion. “I don’t understand what’s happening, Katrina. How could you—”

“I don’t know,” I interrupted, feeling just as confused as he was. “I didn’t mean to.”

Dylan began pacing, his hands tugging at his hair. I could feel the tension radiating from him. “This is too much,” he muttered. “This is crazy. You’re… not human. You were right all this time." He seemed to be having an internal battle with himself.

“I would never hurt you,” I said softly, stepping closer to him, but he backed away from me, his fear palpable.

“But what if something happens?” he asked, his voice trembling. “What if you can’t control it? What if—”

I didn’t know what to say. His words echoed my own fears. What if I couldn’t control my wolf? What if something worse happened?

“I won’t hurt you,” I repeated, though my own uncertainty lingered beneath the surface.

Dylan sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I need to sleep,” he said, retreating toward the door. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

As he left, I could feel the distance growing between us, a chasm I wasn’t sure I could cross. All night, I lay awake, my mind restless, my heart heavy.

The next morning, when I heard Dylan’s door open, I rushed to the living room, afraid he was going to leave me. But he didn’t. He walked into the kitchen, looking freshly showered, and began preparing breakfast like nothing had happened.

“You’re probably wondering why I’m acting so calm,” he said after a moment, his voice neutral.

I nodded, unsure of what to expect.

“I thought about it all night,” he continued, his hands moving absently as he cooked. “I don’t know what to believe, Katrina. But… I’m willing to be open-minded.”

A surge of relief washed over me. “Thank you,” I whispered, my heart swelling with gratitude.

He explained that he had been scared, that he didn’t know what to do. But after thinking about it, he realized that if I had wanted to hurt him, I would have done it already. His words made me feel lighter, and for the first time in days, I smiled.

“I read something last night,” Dylan said, glancing at me. “About the full moon.”

My ears perked up at the mention of it. “What about it?”

“Werewolves shift on the full moon,” he explained. “Maybe that’s when you can… you know, become your wolf again.”

My heart leaped with hope. “When is the next full moon?”

He grinned at me. “in 14 days.”

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