A Month with Werewolves (The With Werewolves Saga Book 1) Read online

  Devon's eyes darted back up to me, wiping away the vivid memory before it caused him to tear. “I know I look like a coward, but in that moment, all that mattered to me was saving my dog's life.” He shook his head. “When I think about it now, it was a stupid decision. She was already dead. I mean, I could see her tongue hanging out from the side of her mouth, blood dripping down from her muzzle. One of the beast's teeth was planted deep into her gut. It was a lost cause. But I was so emotionally overwhelmed that I knew I would feel guilty for the rest of my life if I didn't try to do something to save her. I mean, isn't that what any good dog owner would do?” The look he gave me was questioning, so I just nodded.

  To be honest, I couldn't even imagine what I would have done in that situation. Outside your window, you see a great beast mauling your beloved pet, but you already know it's too late. Do you stay inside your house and keep safe? Or do you bravely try to save your pet? It would definitely be a tough call for an animal lover.

  “Did you know it was a werewolf?” I asked.

  “Yes . . . and no,” Devon replied softly, returning to the memory. “I think, at the time, I knew it was but hoped that it wasn't. I hoped it was just a really big dog. You see, there aren't no wolves in Texas. Wildcats are our only large natural predator.” He looked down at his fingernails, pulling off a piece of dead skin and tossing it to the floor without regard for the fact that I was watching him. “It was stupid. Dogs don't get that big. No breed gets that big.”

  “What happened next?”

  A short laugh escaped Devon's lips. “I grabbed a broom by the door and ran outside, screaming and flailing my arms wildly. The wolf looked up at me, and he dropped the dog.” He slowed down in thought. “I didn't even have time to raise the broom at him before he was on me. All I remember was fur and saliva and pain. Its hot breath on my face. Apparently, I shielded my face with my arm, and that's how he got me. I thought I was a goner. But no sooner than he grabbed me did he let me go. I remember when he stepped away from me, that the moon was disappearing behind the clouds. It must have affected him somehow, otherwise I think I would be dead. He would have finished me off. I know he would have.” Devon sighed. “My parents came home to find me bleeding to death on the lawn. I was so in shock that I couldn't muster up the courage to move. They took me to the hospital, and after I was released, I was brought here. Bessie died. But Mocha, our black lab, was saved. I truly believe that the monster would have killed him next had I not gone out there.”

  I watched as a solemn smile crossed his face, wondering how accurate that last statement was. Surely, telling himself he had saved the other dog's life gave some validity to his actions though, and I dare not take that away from him.

  “And what of the werewolf that bit you?” I asked.

  “Never found.” Devon shook his head. “Did you know that for every werewolf in captivity, there's said to be at least three more roaming free?”

  “No, I didn't know that.”

  “You probably came in here thinking that the reservation would be full of attackers and victims, that everyone would be filled with resentment towards each other, but the truth is that there are only three pairs in here that can be linked together in such a way. Everyone else that has been turned, either their attacker or lover was never found, they were murdered, or they commit suicide.” Devon's expression was as grim as death, and I could tell that he was on the verge of losing his composure.

  “I'm sorry. I can't even imagine what it's like to contract the disease. It must take an immense emotional toll on a person.”

  “It does.”

  “What all did you leave behind when you were sent to the reservation?”

  “As in possessions?” He looked confused for a moment. “No, you mean people. I left behind my parents and an older brother, two dogs . . . I mean, one dog, and some fish.”

  “No girlfriend?”

  “No.” Devon's face sulked a bit. “I've never been particularly popular with the ladies.”

  That was certainly not an issue I wanted to tackle. Moving on. “How do you feel about the reservation in terms of how you were treated when you first got here, the detainment process in the compound, how you were integrated into the pack, becoming omega, and how you feel about pack life now that you've been here for a while?”

  He laughed nervously. “Wow, that's a whole lot of questions rolled up into one. Let's see. Naturally, I didn't like the detainment process. I mean, who does? Being stuck in solitary for a month and then having your testicles snipped.”

  I couldn't help but smirk at the way he said it, as if they had castrated him instead of giving him a vasectomy. It was no laughing matter though, and I did my best to keep my amusement to myself.

  “None of us will ever father children now, you know?” he told me.

  I nodded in reply.

  “I mean, sure, vasectomies are reversible, but only if you haven't had them for a long time. After a few years, it's almost impossible to reverse them. I wanted children someday. I think it's one of the worst parts of the process. It makes you feel like some dog, you know? Like some fucking pet, neutered and stuck inside a giant dog park,” Devon's voice elevated and then softened almost as quickly. “I'm sorry that I cursed.”

  “It's alright. I can certainly understand your anger.”

  Sensing that I didn't mind this sudden change in him, Devon continued with his angsty rant. “And those fucking pricks Emmett and Rick. They act all friendly to your face, especially when you first get here. They'll show you around and be nice. But behind your back.” He shook his head, and I could feel the anger building around him, waning when he looked back up at me. “Again, I'm sorry. I shouldn't talk about them like that around you.”

  “No. Please, don't stop. I want to know everything about how you feel. Everything you say to me in this room is confidential.”

  “Until someone reads that report.” Devon looked to my notebook.

  “I'm not going to let anyone in here read what is written in this notebook. I promise.”

  “How are you going to stop them? There are no locks on the doors. And don't think that the people in here won't want to know what you wrote down about them. Mark my words, by the end of your stay here, someone will have their hands on that notebook without your permission. Don't trust these people, Ms. Raveen. They are not your friends,” the seriousness in his words took me by surprise.

  Devon was staring directly into my eyes, the nervous twitches completely gone from his body as he drove his point home. This was a warning, and for the first time ever, I felt what I feared I would feel all along before coming here. It wasn't safe. All the happiness around me was a charade to keep me content and fooled.

  “Are you my friend?” I asked cautiously.

  “I don't know.” He shrugged. “I could be. But for now, I'm just your guide.”

  “I would like to be your friend.”

  “And I would like to get out of here, as would the rest of us. Only time will tell if that will ever happen.”

  The tension in the room seemed to build with each word that left Devon's mouth, and I suddenly felt unwelcome. Still, it was important to finish up my interview so that I could have at least one out of the way.

  “Does everyone secretly hate it here?” I questioned.

  “No, not everyone.” His answer surprised me. “Some have flourished here, like Emmett and Margaret and Terry and Rick. Some think that life here is better than on the outside. But those are few and far between. A few flourish. Most just tolerate this life . . . and there are a few that absolutely detest it, unable to cope with their loss.”

  “Do you think that you detest it more because you're an omega?”

  “Probably,” Devon admitted. “No one likes to be the one served a shit sandwich every day of their life. It sucks because I get picked on a lot. In fact, in this made-up werewolf society, it's encouraged to pick on the omega. Not like in your world where there are anti-bullying laws. That makes my s
hitty life all the more shitty. To be honest, I was never happier when they said they were going to bring you on, not because I gave a shit about escorting you around, but because I knew no one else would want to do it, and that meant I got out of shit scooping duty for an entire month. So, even if I do end up omega again after the hierarchy trials, I'll at least have a few more weeks of easy living. Plus, when I'm by your side, the pack has been instructed not to bully me. In essence, you're pretty much like a one-month vacation for me.”

  While I should have been offended by what Devon was saying, I couldn't help but sympathize with his position. He certainly had it a lot harder than the other werewolves and was fully entitled to his bitterness.

  “Then I would have you by my side at all times.” I smiled at him, feeling a strong need to protect him from the cruelty of the other wolves.

  Devon's expression softened, and he returned my gesture with a grin. “You must think I'm a real asshole now.”

  “No. The exact opposite, actually. I appreciate your honesty. It's rather refreshing.”

  “I can only be a puppet for so long, and not very long, apparently. Just please, don't let word get out about what I've told you. Remember that when you leave, things return to normal for me, and I wouldn't want them to get any worse than they already are.”

  “I won't say a word.”

  “And try to avoid writing anything negative in that notebook of yours. It could make things harder for you during your stay here. Keep the bad stuff to memory, and put it in your report once you leave this place.”

  “I appreciate the advice.”

  “Well, despite my words, I would like for your stay here to be pleasant.”

  It was strange how much Devon had changed since we had begun the interview. At first, he had been jittery and annoying, but now, he seemed just as calm and intelligent as most of the other people I had met on the reservation.

  With the vast majority of my questions answered, I decided to take my leave. Despite having told Devon that he could follow me wherever I went, I knew that he would not want to follow me to my next interview. After lunch, I would be taking Emmett for a one on one, and I was very interested to see how the story and outlook of the alpha were different from that of the omega.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Emmett's house was a picture-perfect vision of the American dream. A white picket fence outlined a well manicured lawn with immaculately trimmed shrubbery lining the path to a red-painted door. It was better than most people could hope to afford in the outside world with the recession going on. No wonder he was such a smug bastard.

  Before I had even finished knocking, the door was pulled open, revealing the alpha of the Blackfoot Werewolf Reservation who had been expecting me the entire time. His dominant brown eyes looked down on me with amusement before he invited me inside for the grand tour.

  The house oozed with luxuries vacant from most of the other werewolf domiciles. Rich wooden furniture and leather upholstered seating were a hallmark for those that worked hard within the community, but Emmett got it all for free just for being the leader of the pack.

  “How many months have you lived in this?” I asked while he showed me the master bathroom. His tub was large and jetted, even better than mine.

  “Are we starting the interview now, Ms. Raveen, or would you prefer to wait til we get to the living room?” he said.

  There was that arrogance again, a subtle hint of it—a hint of his discontent from having me around. I had been oblivious to it before Devon, the omega of the pack, warned me that Emmett was only putting on a front. Now, I was all too aware of his false nuances.

  “Whatever you're more comfortable with, Mr. Kennedy,” I tried not to sound rude.

  When we returned to the living room, Emmett sat me down on the sofa and offered me a beverage from his mini fridge. I nodded in kindness, figuring he could spare a soda.

  “I suppose we should start with the question I asked you in the bathroom.” Preparing to record his response, I flipped open my notebook to a fresh page, jotting down his full name on the top line.

  Emmett looked to the ceiling, counting quietly inside his head before saying, “I believe it's been about six years now.”

  It didn't seem very long, considering that he had lived inside of the reservation for nearly twenty years. “Who was alpha before you?”

  “Rick was, but that didn't last for too long. We kind of bounce the position back and forth between us. I'm not going to let him win this time around though.” Emmett smirked to himself.

  I wasn't surprised that the position was passed between a handful of men. The hierarchy trials were probably like any other stale competition. When you pitted the same group of people against each other repeatedly, it didn't make much sense to expect a consistently different result.

  “Well,” I continued, “I already know your age and how long you've lived on the reservation, so I'll move on to the things I don't know about you.”

  “That makes sense,” he interrupted me.

  “How did you contract the lycanthropy disease?”

  “Sex of course.” Emmett gave me a look like I shouldn't be surprised. While he was certainly a specimen of manliness, he wasn't particularly my type. Too broad. Too muscular. Too dark. And I wasn't a fan of chest hair either. My eyes darted to the thick curly patch that peaked out the top of Emmett's blue jumpsuit.

  “Who was she?” I kept my expression deadpan, and there was a twinge of disappointment in his eyes from my lack of reaction. Perhaps he thought he could get any woman he wanted. Maybe Emmett's high position worked inside of the reservation on his female pack mates, but it certainly wasn't working on me.

  “Some high school slut.” He waved his hand and looked away as if it hadn't mattered. “I was the star quarterback of my high school football team. Girls were a dime a dozen.”

  “So you don't know which one gave it to you?”

  “Nope.”

  “You say that girls were a dime a dozen. I'm assuming that meant you slept around a lot. Don't you worry that you might have passed it on to someone else?”

  “I did pass it on to someone else,” Emmett replied without shame. “One of the women here is here because of me. There was another too, but she died trying to escape the reservation.”

  I cocked an eyebrow, a bit miffed by his obvious lack of emotion when he spoke of the two women. It didn't seem that the consequences of Emmett's actions mattered to him at all.

  “You don't feel any remorse?” I asked finally.

  “Why should I? It was an accident. I didn't know I had the lycanthropy disease, at the time. If I had, I would have worn a condom.”

  “Who's the woman you gave the lycanthropy disease to that lives inside of the reservation?”

  “Her name is Jeanette Navy. She lives in a two-bedroom suite with her husband now, so it all ended up fine in the end,” he assured me.

  “Her husband?”

  “Yes. It's common for people to get married inside the reservation. As I've mentioned before, life is pretty normal inside here for most people. We work like normal people, have festivals and celebrations, go on dates, all of that good stuff. We even have sex.” Emmett's brown eyes flashed mockingly. “If you're ever interested in that last part, I can get condoms from the compound staff. Or did they issue you some when you came in here, just in case?”

  It took everything in me not to be offended and disgusted. Part of me thought he was joking, but the realist in me knew that he wasn't.

  “Let's move on with the interview,” I said, keeping my deadpan expression.

  “Oh, Taya,” he guffawed. “I'm just pulling your strings. Loosen up a bit.”

  As much as I wanted to force out nervous laughter, it wouldn't come. Instead, I stifled a small sigh and continued on, “What did you have to leave behind when you were brought to the reservation?”

  “A life that I loved, for one thing. Though I think most would tell you the same. I had a football scholarship, you
know?” Emmett's eyes met mine, but there was no regret in them.

  “What about siblings?”

  “Three brothers and two sisters.” He laughed again. “I came from a litter.”

  “That is a lot.”

  “My parents were happily married. Of course, they were both devastated when they found out I had the lycanthropy disease. I was with that one girl at the time of my first shift . . . the one that died. She wasn't thinking, locked herself in her car and called the police right away. As soon as she told them that we had been having sex when I shifted, they brought us both in. Well, they got her first. They couldn't collect me until the next day.” He grinned at a memory. “I woke up butt naked in one of our neighbors' backyard. I was covered in blood and feathers. I had really torn up his chicken coop, slaughtered nearly all the chickens on his property. Man was I full though.” Emmett chuckled. “I must have eaten at least a half a dozen of those sons of bitches.”

  “So, this girl, the one that died, was she your girlfriend at the time?”

  “One of many,” he replied proudly.

  Not feeling like delving any deeper into his prior love life, I decided to continue with my last main question. “How do you feel about the reservation, the detainment process, how you felt when you were introduced to the reservation, and how you feel where you are now?”