Chapter One

The full moon ascended and hung above the horizon like an orange-colored sphere. The process of transformation began. An inevitable event for humans bit by Lycanthropes for the first time. Transformation completed once the moon reached its highest and brightest point – a new Lycan born.

***

The silhouette of a wolf, like an ornament on a mantelpiece, stood against the bright full moon. Ylva raised her head to howl, but something disturbed her. Her head jerked down. She stared in the direction the noise came from. With her eyes ajar, she gazed into the darkness searching for movement. Ready to attack. Ready to defend herself.

She sniffed the air. Could it be Darlene? With the farmhouse so close by, she could easily be confused with her scent coming from there.

Ylva stared another moment to the place where the noise came from, before she jumped off the cliff and trotted away.

Darlene ducked behind one of the big rocks. Hid herself, just in time, from the wolf's staring eyes. She clenched her hands together and shut her eyes for a moment. Did the wolf see her? She lay still for a few minutes. Hardly breathing.

Without making a sound, she lifted her head and peeped over the edge of the rock. A sigh of disappointment escaped her lips. The wolf disappeared.

She stood up from where she hid. Dusted herself off and headed back to the farmhouse.

The front door screeched when she entered.

"Darlene is it you?" her grandfather called from the living room.

"Yes Gramps, only me!" She sauntered down the corridor to her bedroom and fell down on the bed. Could it be the wolf she saw fifteen years ago? The one she named Lupa. She had a vague memory of her. She was black like the one she saw tonight.

Darlene smiled as she recalled memories of the scary stories of ghosts and werewolves, her grandfather used to tell her and her brother when they were little.

Until one day when she saw a real wolf, a black one, standing on the hill near the river running close to the farm.

When she told her grandfather about the wolf, he burst out laughing. The farm was in his family for generations. He turned seventy-four a few months ago and never once saw a wolf on this farm.

He also confessed. The stories he told about the wolves and werewolves were untrue. It was intended to scare her and Gareth. Like old folks loved to do, with kids and their grandkids.

How she missed those stories when her father found a new job in the city. They had to leave the small town of Skeerpoort. Gone were her everyday visits with her grandfather. Every weekend sleepovers on the farm was in the past.

Darlene was twelve years old when she moved with her family to Johannesburg. She and her brother still visited Grandpa Pete on the farm, but only during school holidays.

She finished college and started her career at Willow and Marks, an advertisement company in Johannesburg. She worked her way up in the corporate world and became the manager of sales and marketing, landing them huge contracts with big name companies, making large amounts of money for W&M.

At twenty-five, she met Linda. They fell in love and after a few months, they moved into a three-bedroom house in Linden.

Darlene never forgot her grandfather, the farm, or the wolf she saw when she was fifteen. Though she never saw that black wolf again.

She missed the farm. The fresh air. The freedom.

She visited her grandfather every year, with her annual leave. And on a weekend once a month, or once every two months. Depending on how busy she was at work. Most of the time she visited alone, because Linda usually worked on weekends.

Every December, with her annual leave, Darlene took the train from Johannesburg down to Pretoria. From there she took a taxi to Skeerpoort, to the farm Skeerpoort Valley.

There was no point in driving with her own car, because when the holiday was over, she drove back with Linda.

Linda usually arrived a week before Christmas. As always, she would be edgy, because she sat around doing nothing, while plenty of work – according to her – waited at the office.

She had a relationship with her job. Buried in her work. Working later than usual. She never took leave, except for the week and a half over the Christmas period. Always pleasing her boss.