Protector's Instinct

Michael

Diana went up the stairs; her gaze met mine for a moment before she lost herself in the distance. Thanks to my nature, I didn't possess the need to have to fix my attention on something to really notice it; I easily heard the sound of her footsteps, breathing, and the vague murmur of her voice; the bed sinking as her body fell and soon after, the rhythm changing as she finally fell asleep.

Her telltale scent of flowers was still present in the room as Francis entered through the back door of the house, the one that led directly into the woods. He was wearing nothing but the sweatpants he usually wore when he went into the middle of hunts; his torso bare and his hair slightly damp from the snowfall, which had quickly melted as it met his body, warmer than usual.

"No luck," he said before I even had the need to ask, but I already knew that.

Tonight, my mind had split in two at times, following my pack's footsteps through the forest. I would never leave them alone in the face of adversity, not even when I forced myself to keep up appearances in favor of this fragile, attractive girl. "We have searched for the shapeshifter, scouring every part of the forest, but she just seems to have disappeared."

I nodded and closed my eyes. "We'll have to keep watch for a while longer. Those guys are hurt because of us," I assumed.

My mission was to protect this place, after all. Bamberg was my home, my territory, and everything that happened here concerned me.

"We won't stop watching, Michael, you know that," Francis affirmed. His senses were as good as mine, and soon he felt Diana's scent wafting through the air. She smelled of freesias, lilacs, and petrichor.

"That girl..." he asked then, fiddling with an apple in his hands that he just grabbed and noticed how my gaze rose significantly for a moment as if I could see her through the floor, lying on my bed.

I could picture her, all in all, her soft, peach-colored skin against the dark sheets, the warmth emanating from her fragile, delicate, smooth body, as well as her hair, deep chocolate color with coppery highlights, spilling over the pillows as she turned, reaching out her hands as if searching for me in vain in the distance...

I shivered, slightly uneasy, and in time cleared my throat. I was sure Francis had channeled my emotions well. He knew I didn't check on anyone, so this must be quite a novelty. Since we had known each other, and it had been a long time now, he had seen me with the occasional girl, but it had been nothing that lasted more than one night. No one had caught my attention as deeply as she had, and it was not something I liked to admit.

"What about her?" I asked while raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing. I was just wondering how it's going with her. It's unusual for you to have company for so long." He looked at me, a curious gleam shining in his coffee-colored eyes.

"Did she believe the stories about the bears?"

"It was not easy, but it was not impossible to have her around either," I replied, my lips curving into an enigmatic smile. He sensed everything my words didn't say: the internal struggle I had to keep away from her, the way I tried to distract myself from sneaking into the room in the middle of the night, seeking her company. "I don't honestly think she believes anything about bears, but she has no choice. She's going to believe it sooner or later," I affirmed.

"It's... interesting that you're finally noticing someone. I mean, it's good, isn't it?" Francis asked, almost innocently.

"I wouldn't exactly say it's good." I refused. My thoughts, after all, didn't stop flying amidst the memories. The scent of blood spilled on the ground after Anna's death, Damien's eternal hatred... "You know, love and I don't get along very well," I said, in an attempt at a dark joke on my part.

"Is that what it is, love?" he asked me; his thoughts were quick at times to be certain.

I answered with a grunt and I tried to ignore the comment. I headed for the living room and he followed me calmly, eating the apple. Above us, in the master bedroom, Diana's sleeping sighs haunted us. She was unaware of Francis' presence.

"I don't know what it is, but I don't plan to find out. It's not safe for her to be near me. You know that."

Francis sat on the couch and looked at me intently.

He took a bite of the apple before saying, "Any girl would be lucky to win your heart, Michael. No one would protect her as you do, you know that."

I let out a sound halfway between a sigh and a growl and the Alpha instinct bubbled up from my senses, the subtle warning that this was not a subject I wished to continue with.

"Either way, I'll return her to town as soon as the storm stops. After that, I plan to stay away from her. For now, it will be best to focus on the strange werewolf. We can't lose her trail again if she ever shows up. We need to know why she attacked those young men and what she wants. If Damien has created her, surely there is a compelling reason to send her to attack the forest, precisely that night. It was a message for us, without a doubt."

"It's strange," Francis then confessed. "Damien is not usually so impulsive. He knows the consequences of violating our territory."

I nodded in response. Indeed, over the past years, we had shown Damien a thousand times that the best thing to do was to stay away from Bamberg's people. He knew better: It was not in his best interest to mess with me.

But that woman was an experienced wolf since she knew how to run away from us in the middle of the forest after all. I was sure she knew the area, and although I couldn't figure out why, something about her scent brought back memories of the past. During the previous hours, Francis and Robert have been looking for her, but they had had no luck in finding her, even though they knew the forest like the back of their hands. It was as if she had disappeared from the face of the earth.

"Either way," Francis began to say then as he stood up. "We will remain alert. We'll track her scent a bit beyond our boundaries; see if perhaps we find traces of it near Damien's territory, in which case, we'll know if she belongs to his command."

I nodded and stood up, following Francis to the door. He moved with ease. The cold of the night did not frighten him as we rarely felt the cold or the elements in general, in the same way, humans do.

"I don't want them to put themselves at risk," I ordered. "Under no cause are you to enter into a confrontation with Damien or those in his pack. If you get a trace of the werewolf or any clue of her, let me know and I will come at once. I intend to settle this matter myself."

"What do you mean? You'll leave the girl all alone in the house?" Francis asked with a dangerous smile, halfway to a joke on his lips.

"I'll do it if I have to," I assured him, even though we both knew I'd rather not.

Francis then left, with my thoughts flying to him and Robert, warning them not to cut off communication with me at any time.

Today, they will be my eyes, my nose, and my paws in the middle of the forest. I trusted them, but the feeling of being separated from my pack when I knew they were possibly facing danger did not please me.

Still, I must stay close to her, to the only survivor of the hunt by the unknown werewolf; and not because I feared that something might happen to her, but simply because, at this moment, it was impossible for me to leave her alone, and that thought crossed my mind all night long, becoming torture rather than a conviction.