I huffed out a breath, revelling in my new strength as I hauled myself upwards. My claws out, I easily found handholds in the tough rock.
Each day, Callum had taken me on longer and longer treks across the uninhabited parts of the island to test my handle on my wolfy powers. At first, I’d stumbled each time I’d tried to sprint and had fallen when I’d jumped higher than head height, but recently I’d perfected the art of moving like a wolfman.
I had more motivation. Kit had told me about the loss of his scar a week ago, and each day the need to hold him had grown stronger. I had to get Callum’s approval to leave the mountains soon, otherwise I was going to go rogue and dash down withoutpermission. I didn’t think anyone would mind too much, since all I wanted to leave for was a cuddle, but I didn’t fancy pissing off my new Alpha so soon after becoming a member of her pack. Bonnie had been scary when I was a clueless human. She was even more so now she could howl and summon me to her side any time she liked.
I reached the top of the cliff and flung my legs upwards. They thumped onto the relatively flat ground and I sprung to my feet.
The view this high was incredible. Turning full circle, I could see every edge of Doughnut that wasn’t blocked by the peak of the mountain Callum and I were scaling. The loch glittered in the middle of the island, the sea shimmering in the distance. The village looked like a toy miniature, the bright paint of each cottage breaking up the island’s greens and browns.
In the middle row of houses was one painted red. Despite my enhanced eyesight, I couldn’t make out any more detail about Kit’s cottage than the bright colour. I hadn’t gained the ability to see through walls, to tell if my cottage-mate was shelving books or talking to a customer or cautiously petting Kat.
Turning away from the chance of catching an all-too-distant glimpse of Kit, I scanned the mountainside. Grass rustled in the soft breeze and stunted trees provided shade for a few adventurous pygmy goats. There was no sign of Callum’s red plaid shirt or the blue jeans he could surely have ordered in a size that wouldn’t have my bestie drooling every time he turned his back.
‘Callum?’
He usually didn’t run out of sight. Since he had been born a werewolf, he had a level up on the bitten wolves like me and Kit, but he was careful to temper his speed and strength during our runs so that he was at hand if I had a bad fall or needed a rest.
Which meant his absence now was most likely intentional.
Yesterday, after a swim in the lake where I’d tested how long I could hold my breath then hugged Callum extra tight afterwards while his panic popped like sherbet in the air, he’d told me that although I was growing into my new abilities, I would always have a tendency to fall back on those that were more like the ones I’d used as a human. Sight was my biggest crutch, followed by sound. It was scenting that really set us wolves apart.
Callum had obviously intended that as a hint that he was going to test my more wolf-like powers.
I closed my eyes, removing the temptation to keep scouring the mountainside. If Callum wanted to hide from me, then he would be well hidden. I needed to use my other enhanced senses to have a hope of finding him.
A few days ago, I’d cracked the trick of maintaining an awareness of the sounds around me while letting them fade into a burbling background. My frustration at Callum for his vague instructions had cleared as my ability to zone out unwanted sound clicked into place. It was hard to describe how to do it because once I could, it was as natural as grabbing something with my hand. It was instinctual, yet hard to break down and explain clearly to someone who had never done it before.
I took a deep breath, then let the sounds surrounding me in. Wind blustered through the leaves on the trees. A stream burbled nearby. Goats’ teeth ground together as they chewed clumps of grass.
I focused on heartbeats. Mine was the loudest, slightly elevated from hauling myself up a cliff. There were more goats nearby than I’d realised. Their hearts hammered in a rhythm that would have been alarmingly quick for a human but was fine for a smaller mammal.
I grinned. My new abilities were going to give me such an advantage as a vet. If a pet owner wasn’t the in the room when I did an examination, I’d never have to use a stethoscope again.
Although some animal issues would require forceful supressing of my super-powered nose.
That was the key to finding Callum. Beneath the goat heartbeats thumped another, but it was impossible to tell which direction it came from. If I wanted to find my werewolf sensei, I’d have to sniff him out.
Wrinkling my nose in preparation, I tapped into the scents swirling around me. The first to hit was the goats. Callum claimed it wouldn’t be so bad down in the village, that scents there were a wild muddle. He said I’d get used to the smell of goat with the more time I spent around them.
I wasn’t sure he was right. Maybe he’d gotten used to the stink of goat because he’d spent literally decades in their smelly company. Escaping their pungent aroma was another – lesser – reason I was keen to go back down to the village.
Gritting my teeth, I let the powerful odour of goat wash over me. Callum said the key wasn’t to fight different scents, but to let the more intense rush in and then recede. Others blossomed in their wake. Like the smell of grass. My fresh sweat. The saltiness of the sea on the breeze.
And Callum. A couple of nights ago, Aster asked me what his boyfriend smelt like. He didn’t seem pleased that Callum carried the scent of goat on his well-worn clothes. Apparently it was weak enough that Aster’s human nose couldn’t pick it up. All he smelt when Callum hugged him was warm cotton and clean skin and fresh baked bread.
Beneath the goatiness was the scent of what I guessed was indefinably pack. The smell of stepping through the front door of home after months of absence. Warm arms around my back. Thesoft moments just after waking. Callum smelt of strength and comfort and family.
And he was definitely hiding somewhere to my right. I turned my head and sniffed, my nostrils briefly filling with stinky goat before Callum’s scent flowed clear.
I opened my eyes and walked in the direction his smell was strongest. I could walk with them closed, since I’d heal from any injury, but just because a broken bone would take hours rather than weeks to heal now that didn’t mean it didn’t bloody hurt. I’d snapped a finger jumping over a stream a week ago. Although my tears were flowing long after my hand was fully functional once more, I didn’t want to hurt myself if I didn’t have to.
Scanning the surrounding boulders and gnarled trees, I breathed deep and concentrated. There were several hiding places Callum could have gone for. I wondered if the true test was whether I would search them all until I found him or prove I was so in tune with my new inner wolfy by finding him on the first try.
He could be tucked behind a thick patch of brambles. Or hiding in a dilapidated goat hut. Or crouching behind a boulder.
I closed my eyes and sniffed deep, barely wincing at the stank of pygmy goat as I focused on each place in turn. Callum’s scent was strongest nearer the hut, but it didn’t smell as though the straw inside had been disturbed recently. I took a couple of paces closer, then sniffed again.
I was definitely getting warmer. I slowly walked towards the hut, my nose raised and eyes darting around the crumbling walls for any hint of a red shirt. I paused at the doorway. Callum’s scent wasn’t strong enough for him to be inside.
