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(Un)bidden: Chapter 9


I wiped sweat from my face and gave the rice on the fire another stir. One of the men had brought in a pheasant that now roasted beside the pot for a late lunch. Behind me, I listened to the water boil on the new stove. Thomas and Gregory had finished installing the stovepipe well before Ann and Leif had returned to the kitchen with Mary. The couple had taken one of the first floor rooms, unconcerned about the broken window.

Ann had also gratefully accepted a change of clean clothes and now waited at the table while her husband—no, Mate—worked to fill the tub for her. With the new stove, it wouldn’t take as long to fill the tub. But, man, the room heated quickly.

Needing to escape the heat, and because I had little left to do inside, I went out to check on the progress of the men.

Four long rows of split wood were stacked shoulder high. Not my shoulder, but the height of the men doing the stacking. The two clothing tables were empty, and on the ground lay the heap of rejected items.

I grabbed an armful of clothing to carry back inside. Though none of it was good for wearing, it could be useful for other things. I placed my armful just inside the door, and when I turned, I almost screamed. Three men were right behind me, carrying the rest.

“Thank you,” I said as they dropped their bundles.

They nodded and left, and I found the absence of their previous aggression and intensity pleasantly surprising. I went back outside and walked around, studying the rest of the progress. Several of the wooden chairs, now repaired and painted, caught my eye.

“Can we carry the two empty tables and these chairs into the main room? Maybe we should set them off to the side a bit for when you want to come in and eat or just sit for a while.” Two of the men nodded and went to the tables.

I wandered over to the table that had the scrap pieces of metal. I still had no idea what we would do with it.

“Winifred said there are places by her that will pay for metal,” Mary said, coming up behind me. “When she leaves again, she’ll take this with her and use the money to buy more supplies.”

“There’s nothing like that around here?”

“There are a few places, but she said we’d look suspicious carrying all this heavy stuff there since we don’t have a truck. Also, this way, she can spread out where she goes so no one wonders where she gets the metal from. We plan to go back often,” Mary said.

“Then we should have a designated area for metal. Let’s stack all metal for recycling by the driveway and away from the house. If anyone goes out and finds anything to add to it, they can just toss it there.”

Men immediately started moving the pieces, and it occurred to me that Winifred was right. As wolves, they were surviving in the wild. But as people, they were lacking any purpose. These small tasks gave them purpose; and based on their expressions, they liked it.

“Does anyone think we can build our own ladder? Something tall enough to reach the high windows so we can start boarding them up?”

No one answered; however, several men walked into the trees. I wondered what kind of ladder they’d make.

I turned toward Mary.

“We need more dishes. Bowls and spoons first. If we work together, we should eat together.”

“We should.” She grinned at me then looked out at the men. “The rabbit stew will be done in a few hours. Bring a bowl and spoon if you want to eat. And no stealing.”

Several nodded. Those who were already busy kept working. Those still idling around the yard disappeared.

From the trees, a thunderous crash echoed into the clearing, and I jumped a little.

“Just the ladder,” Thomas said from beside me.

I jumped again.

“Where did you come from?”

“Inside. What’s next?” He grinned down at me.

Hearing him say the very question I asked when I felt lost changed the way I saw him. He was still annoying in my eyes, but he was also just as misplaced as the rest of them, as I was. I tilted my head and studied him the way I often caught him studying me. He grinned wider.

“When it’s just your pack, what do you do every day? What’s your routine?”

“We tend to sleep most of the day. At night, when it’s safer to move around, we scout the area and hunt.”

I waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. My heart broke. What kind of existence was that?

“So coming here changed your sleep patterns?”

He shrugged and eyed the men still in the yard.

“Some will leave for brief periods during the day to nap in the woods. We still prefer to hunt at night.”

“All right. Then, what we do next is plan.” I turned and looked at the building behind me. “This is going to be a lot of work, but once your kind hear what’s happening here, I think we’ll see more couples like Ann and Leif. We have eight rooms slightly weatherproofed. It would be ideal to replace the glass in the upper windows first to make more rooms inhabitable. For the rooms that are finished, we should try to have them equipped for whoever might appear. Blankets are a must. We should also try to put in some type of heavy curtain or drapery to keep out the cold.”

“You seem very worried about the cold that is still months away,” Thomas said.

Months away? He was thinking of deep winter. That’s probably when he felt the cold as a wolf. I knew I’d feel it a lot sooner. Within a month, maybe a bit more, the trees would be bare. That would be the start of the cold for me.

“Time moves quickly,” I said, “and I would prefer not to be caught unprepared. If there are spare furnishings, we can put them in the rooms, too. But my biggest concern is food.” And how they would occupy themselves, but I didn’t say that. “We’ll need a lot to keep everyone fed…if everyone is staying.”

“I think that will depend on whether or not you’re Claimed by then.”

I ignored his comment.

“Collecting metal to add to our recycling heap will help a bit with money, but we should think bigger. There are a lot of repairs this place is going to need. Any brave souls among you should try to find summer work with builders and carpenters.”

The movement in the yard slowed until even the birds fell silent. I glanced at the men who stared at me. Disbelief painted many of their expressions.

“We need to think of more than just today or tomorrow. Who knows how to make the windows airtight? Who knows how to replace the shingles when the roof starts to leak? Who knows how to create a wooden bed frame? Who knows how to add decorative carvings to furniture? None of you, I’m guessing. And why should you? Where’s the value in that knowledge for people who sleep during the day and hunt at night? There is no value for those people. But there is value for those who want to spend their winter building things to sell in spring. For people who want more than a life in the woods. For people who want to do more than just exist.”

Several men turned and walked away into the woods. From the stiff set of their shoulders and their angry expressions, I knew I’d upset them. It disheartened me. How could they not see how lost they were?

“You push too far,” Thomas said quietly.

“I’m not pushing at all. I’m questioning your purpose and giving you ideas for possibilities. Only you decide your purpose. Not me.”

I walked inside, hoping the pheasant was ready to eat.


Twelve men came inside for dinner; seven brought bowls and spoons with them. Mary and I had the hot water and soap ready for the dishes. I could only imagine where they’d gotten them. Once we had everything clean, I set the bowls and our few plates on the small table next to the stove and started serving. The portions were lean, but the pot stretched to feed us all.

When the men finished, they left their bowls by the sink and drifted outside. Mary, Ann, and I started to clean up. It was the first moment since I’d arrived that reminded me not just of home but of my mom, and I felt a pang of homesickness.

I wondered what my mom and dad thought of me. Did Mom still worry? Did she hope for a call? I wanted so badly to call them, just to hear their voices.

“Are you all right, Charlene?” Ann asked quietly.

“Yes. Fine.” Thoughts of the past should stay in the past. “I’m going to step outside for a bit.”

I left them to finish drying the dishes.

The tall trees muted the glow of the setting sun, casting the clearing into an early dusk. Only a few men lingered in the yard. Thomas spoke quietly to two of them. Grey, Henry, and Paul were absent, and Gregory was just walking into the building with the tools.

I moved away from the door and slowly walked toward the pile of metal. I breathed deeply in an effort to let go of my concerns for my parents. I was here, now. I needed to worry about these people and our future.

A heavy mass hit me, knocking me to the side. Instinctively, I stuck out my hands to brace myself against the fall as the weight brought me down. Time slowed as I watched the dried grass rush toward me. My right hand touched the ground first, and my wrist twanged painfully. I wasn’t fully able to extend my left arm in time, so it buckled as soon as my fingers touched the grass. My elbow smacked the hard surface. I scrunched my eyes and turned my head a second before my face hit. The stitches in my neck pulled at the same time the rough turf abraded my right cheek.

Before I could wonder why I was on the ground or draw a breath, a hand fisted in my hair and pulled back. My face lifted from the ground. Snarls, yips, and growls surrounded me. Legs and paws flashed by my dazed gaze.

The backward movement of my head suddenly changed, yanking hard to the right. I involuntarily cried out in pain as the move stretched my healing neck too far. The power of the wrench forced me to roll to my side, and I finally saw why I was on the ground.

Wolves and men battled in the yard and more poured from the trees. Thomas grappled with the man right beside me. The man’s hand still had strands of blonde hair between his fingers. My hair. Thomas’ teeth were no longer human, but long and lethal. He strove to bite the other man who was also shifting forms.

A yip nearby distracted me. I turned in time to see one wolf with its teeth sunk into the throat of another. Blood poured to the ground. Though I couldn’t tell from which, I could guess. The bitten wolf yipped again as it continued its weak thrashing. How could they do this to each other?

“Charlene!” Mary cried. I turned and saw her in the doorway. Ann stood just behind her. The fear in her eyes and the hold around her large stomach was too much.

Angry, I pulled myself to my feet. In the span of just a few days, I’d been re-bitten, hospitalized, bullied, bitten again—twice, and now knocked to the ground. Anger didn’t touch what I felt.

“Enough.” My voice boomed in the clearing, as unnatural as what happened next.

They stilled. Every one of them. I blinked, confused before I sensed why. Like Winifred had done, I’d managed to split my will. Each branch reached out to every man, woman, and wolf. It didn’t touch their heads, though. It struck their hearts.

Then, I saw their eyes. The fear there. The suspicion. I took a deep breath. “Forget this moment, and the need to fight as soon as I release you,” I thought at them. Then, I let go.

A sudden wave of nausea knocked me to my knees. I threw up on the ground and gagged again when the smell of bile and stew hit me. I raised my head and looked at the bleeding wolf. Its shallow panting barely lifted its chest.

“Are you okay?” Mary said. She helped me to my feet, and I wiped my mouth with the back of my shaking hand.

I looked around at everyone. They all watched me but no longer fought. I found Thomas next to the man who’d attacked me.

“Why?” I asked the man.

“You have no right to come here and force us to live like humans,” he said with obvious disgust.

“You’re correct. I have no right to force you to do anything. You’re free to choose to live as you wish. However, I will continue to change things in these buildings that no one has used for years. And if there are any who wish to change how they live, they are welcome to join me.”

The man glared at me.

“You have no right to this land.”

“Do you own it?” I asked, feeling a hint of worry.

“No.”

“Do you know who owns it?” I asked him. When he didn’t answer, I looked at Thomas.

“Technically, Winifred owns it. It’s why she left and has a job. She pays the…mortgage.”

The way Thomas spoke slowly told me that he was communicating with Winifred. My heart plummeted and panic set in. I hadn’t thought of that when I’d manipulated their wills. Had one of them said something to Winifred in the seconds before they forgot?

“And does Winifred mind if I make changes?” I asked.

“She doesn’t think you’re making changes; you’re making improvements.” He tilted his head and studied me. “Why are you worried?”

“It’s nothing to think about now,” I said. I addressed the man again. “So what did you hope to accomplish by attacking me?”

“A dead woman can’t change a thing.”

The way he said it gave me chills. Thomas’ eyes narrowed on the man, and I could see the man had just given Thomas a reason to continue the fight. I stepped forward, raised my hand to set on Thomas’ arm, and cringed at the soreness in my wrist.

He wrapped my hand in his and brought my fingers to his lips. The gesture surprised me, and my pulse leapt. His lips lifted in a hint of a knowing smile.

“Winifred suggests you go inside with Ann and Mary,” he said, still holding my hand.

“I’d prefer to stay out here so no one else gets hurt,” I said, looking at the wolf still on the ground.

“He’s not one of ours,” Thomas said.

“Really? He’s not a werewolf but a regular wolf? The fur in your ears is making you deaf.” He grunted in surprise, but I didn’t give him a chance to speak. “Stop thinking so narrowly. You can’t just protect your small pack. Think bigger.”

He kissed my hand once more, then let me go with a nudge toward the door. “Your neck is bleeding again. Let Mary take a look at it. I’ll look at our fallen.”

“Fine. The door stays open, though.”

He grinned at me and crossed his arms, the gesture conveying his patience rather than any stubbornness. I gave him a last, long look, then walked toward the wolf that was on the ground. It growled at me as I knelt near it.

I tapped it with my will to silence it at the same time I spoke. “I was bitten on the neck, too. It hurts. If you can stand and come inside, Mary and I will clean you up and get you something to eat. It’s up to you, though.” I gently patted its side then stood and walked in.

Mary had the alcohol ready. With a sigh, I sat in the chair.

“How are the stitches?” I asked after she studied me for a moment.

“It looks like the top stitches might have torn a little.” She dabbed at the wound. “It’s barely bleeding. Your face looks worse.”

My face looked worse? I’d been bitten how many times now? My neck had over a dozen puncture holes and several tears. Since there weren’t mirrors here, I hadn’t seen it; yet, I could imagine how it looked. My wrist ached, as did my elbow. I had fading bruises from the last attack and was missing hair from this one.

And my face looked worse?

I giggled; and as soon as I did, I couldn’t stop. Laughter bubbled from me. It wasn’t a pretty, feminine giggle. It was brash and edged with hysteria. My empty stomach ached as I bent over in my ill-hilarity. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and my laughs started to sound more like sobs. Maybe it was the stress of my existence since Penny had tried to expose me, maybe it was being knocked to the ground—yet again—by a werewolf, maybe it was the fear that my scary abilities would cause me problems, even here. Whatever it was, I was falling apart and didn’t know how to pull myself back together.

Arms wrapped around me. My world spun as someone lifted me. I buried my face against a shirtless chest and hoped whatever this was wouldn’t result in another form of abuse. I’d never felt so unwanted in my life, not even when Penny had tried to rat me out at school. That thought switched the mad laughter to full out tears.

I cried until I couldn’t, until my already sore throat clogged and snot filled my nose. And whoever had me, held me through it all.

As I calmed, I became aware we moved slightly, a small side-to-side motion. A chin rested on my head, and hands smoothed down my back. I reached up and wiped my eyes then turned my head a bit so I could see better.

We were in my room, sitting on my bed. The setting sun painted one of the walls bright orange. I pulled back, and the chin lifted from the top of my head.

In the fading light, I stared at Thomas, his face close to mine. I saw the brown flecks in his deep blue eyes and studied his short, thick dark lashes. I realized everything about him seemed dark despite his pale skin. But, he didn’t feel menacing. His gaze held concern, and it made my eyes water again. I’d manipulated this strong man’s mind, and he didn’t even know it. Guilt ate at me. My breath hitched in a typical post-cry rhythm.

He leaned to the side, grabbed a scrap cloth from the pile in my dresser, and handed it to me. I settled back against his chest and blew my nose.

“I’m sorry.” My words were broken and full of remorse.

“Don’t be,” he said gently. “Take all the time you want. I’ll hold you for as long as you’ll let me.”

His arms didn’t tighten. His hold didn’t change at all. Yet, his words changed it in my mind. My breathing slowed; and leaning against his chest, I listened to the steady beat of his heart. My stomach somersaulted.

I lifted my head again. He was waiting for it. Our gazes met. Slowly, he moved forward, giving me time to pull away. I didn’t. His lips brushed mine, a brief soft touch. Our second kiss. This one scared me just as much because I wanted to wrap my arms around his neck and lean into the kiss.

He withdrew and watched me.

“Tell me what you need,” he said.

My heart skipped a beat as a single thought raced forward. A home. A place to belong. But I didn’t say it.

“Nothing. I’m better now. Thank you.” I straightened away from him and stood. He caught my hand when I would have stepped away.

“Mary wants to start sleeping closer to Gregory, but she’s worried about leaving you in this room alone. And, now, I worry Mary isn’t enough.”

I stared down at him. His dark brown hair looked like it needed a brushing. Maybe a washing, too. I wanted to reach out and smooth it back from his forehead, just to touch it. Instead, I forced myself to consider what he said. I’d known it would only be a matter of time before Mary left me. However, it seemed so soon. But it wasn’t. Not really. Not when you considered that Gregory would have happily Claimed her at their first meeting. They would have been sleeping together for a long while already.

“Will you trust me to stay in here with you? To protect you?”

His open and sincere expression stopped me from immediately saying no. The idea of sleeping alone wasn’t pleasant. Since my third attack, I had trouble sleeping most nights, wondering who would next creep into my room. Though I could protect myself, I wasn’t always fast enough…or aware. And the idea of using my abilities like that again felt too wrong. Somehow, I knew it was meant as a last resort, and if I chose to ignore that internal warning…I shivered and didn’t let my thoughts dwell on the unknown.

Now, with this most recent attack, I wondered if I’d sleep at all even with Mary or Thomas in my room. I glanced out the window. The vibrant orange was fading into a deep red.

“How do I know I’ll be any safer with you?” I asked.

“I would never hurt you,” he said. His sincerity reflected in his gaze. I shook my head at him, pointed at his mark on my neck, and said nothing. He heaved a sigh. “Never again.”

He steadily held my gaze and my hand. I knew he meant every word, just as I recognized the impossibility of his vow.

“There are so many ways to hurt a person, Thomas. Don’t ever promise someone you’ll never hurt them because you will.” I withdrew my hand from his. “I don’t want to be the reason Mary isn’t happy. You can stay. Thank you for the offer.”

Thomas looked toward the door.

“Come in, Mary.”

She opened the door. The lamp she held in one hand lit her anxious expression.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“I’m fine. I’m sorry for my outburst. I’m not sure why…well, it’s done, now. I heard you’re ready to share a room with Gregory. Did you want help moving your things?”

Instead of smiling as I’d expected, she frowned and glanced at Thomas.

“I don’t mind staying in here with you,” she said when she met my gaze again.

I stepped forward and gave her a hug. “I know you don’t mind. But Gregory makes you so happy. Why wouldn’t you want to spend more time with him?”

I pulled back and caught her looking at Thomas again. I glanced over my shoulder at him. He still sat on my bed, relaxed and unconcerned by our regard.

“Could you step out for a minute, please?” I said.

He nodded, stood, and left.

“Winifred is worried about him sleeping in here with you.”

“I’ll be fine,” I said, hoping Winifred’s concern was for me and not Thomas.

Mary nodded hesitantly.

“She wants me to remind you she’ll be here tomorrow.”

I smiled.

“I’m fine. I’m sorry for crying like that. Maybe I just need a few more cookies.”

Mary finally returned my smile. It was weak, but it was something.

“She said she’s baking them now. I’ll stay with you until Thomas returns.”

I gave her another quick hug then kicked off my shoes and changed. Another long day gone. I crawled under my covers and closed my eyes.

Tomorrow had to be better.


Snuggled under the covers, I lingered between asleep and awake. I was comfortable and felt well-rested for a change. It took a moment to remember the prior day, the fight, and the subsequent permission I had given to Thomas.

My eyes popped open. I once again had an up-close view of the wall. I held still and listened for a sign I wasn’t alone but heard nothing. But, rolling over, I found Thomas sitting with his back to the door. His eyes were open, and he watched me closely.

Neither of us spoke. Was he remembering how he’d held me last night? I had to look away before I blushed, and I noticed Mary’s bed and clothes were gone. They were so quiet, sometimes.

“Good morning,” I said softly. He smiled slightly, making me feel a bit more relaxed. “Did you sleep at all?”

“Yes.”

I sat up and winced at all the sore spots.

“Well, what should we do today?” I asked.

He chuckled, a smooth pleasant sound.

“I was about to ask you that.”

“I know. That’s why I asked you first. How close is the nearest town?”

“Further than you’d walk in a day.”

“Where did Mary and Gregory go to find everything?”

“Town.”

I arched my brow in question.

“We’re faster than you are.”

“Ah. I see. When will Winifred arrive? Perhaps she could take me in the truck.”

“I’ll take you,” he said, standing. He held out a hand. “But, first, let’s feed you.”

I went to him but ignored his hand. He didn’t make an issue of it. Instead, he turned and led the way downstairs.

The door was open in the main room, and someone already had a pot of water on the stove. The heat from the stove battled with the cool breeze that occasionally drifted through the room. The smell of pheasant roasting on the fire made my mouth water.

“Do you think instead of killing them, we could catch a few?” I asked as I took two plates down from on top of the new cabinet.

“Pheasants? What for?”

“Eggs. It would be handy in winter.” I set the plates on one of the tables.

“And tempting,” he said as he removed the skewered bird from the fire.

“It would be worth a try,” I said with a shrug. “They would need some sort of coop, though.”

“The way you think…I can’t seem to guess what you’ll say or do next.” Thomas set the bird on his plate and used his fork to pull off some breast meat that he then set on my plate.

“Neither can I,” I said with a grin. “But I can explain the eggs. I was thinking that I miss regular breakfast food like cereal, oatmeal, and eggs. And since you seem to be able to kill a pheasant easily enough, why not just keep them alive once you catch them?” I took a bite of the pheasant.

He nodded. “There are several meadows and a marsh nearby. They like the tall grasses. Perhaps, instead of walking to the junkyard, we could go there today.”

If we had eggs, we could invest in flour too; and more food options would open up to us, like pancakes. We could make enough pancakes each morning to feed everyone. If we had enough eggs and flour. When I finished my pheasant, I carried my plate to the sink.

“A trip to the meadow might be a bit premature. We should have a coop ready first and food for them. What do they eat in the wild?” I asked him. I used the water from the stove to fill the sink.

He grinned widely.

“We eat them. That’s all we’ve needed to know.”

“If we want to try to raise a few, we’ll need to find out what they eat. If it’s something we can gather, it could work; but if we need to purchase something, we might be out of luck.”

“They eat seed,” Anton’s familiar voice said behind me, “from the grasses, insects, and other things. Keeping them should be no problem if we build a pen in the meadow.”

I turned with a smile. Anton stood in the doorway, eyeing Thomas. Thomas, still at the table, glowered at Anton.

“Welcome back, Anton,” I said, pulling his attention from Thomas. “There are clean plates over here if you’d like some pheasant.”

“I didn’t come to eat. I came to help. I heard what happened yesterday.” His gaze lingered on my sore cheek.

I nodded, but wanting to forget yesterday, changed the subject. “I’m glad you came back. Thomas and I were just talking about the junkyard, too. I’d like to go there to see if we can find anything else useful, but it sounds like it might be too far for me to walk in a day.”

“I could carry you and run it,” he said. “It would take an hour.”

“Run carrying me for an hour? You wouldn’t get tired?”

He gave me a cocky grin. “No.”

Thomas cleared his throat.

“Winifred would like you to stay here until she arrives. She’s concerned about your safety after yesterday’s attack and feels this is the safest place for you.”

Disappointed, I nodded. I didn’t want to put myself in a position where I’d need to control anyone again.

“Then I suppose I’ll find something to do around here,” I said, rinsing the plate and setting it aside to dry. “What is everyone else working on today?”

“Bine, Zerek, and most of the others are still working on wood. A few are fixing things in the other building.”

He didn’t mention anything about Grey, Henry, or Paul; and I didn’t ask. I needed to focus on my own purpose for the day. There were still windows to replace and a ladder to check on. I wiped my hands on my pants and added laundry to the list.

“Anton, if you’re willing, can you help me with the windows?” I asked, walking toward the door.

“Of course,” he said.

“If you want, you can join us when you finish, Thomas,” I said, glancing back at him. His gaze was on his plate, but he nodded.


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