Before I had the courage to open my eyes, I knew something was off. I couldn't describe it. I didn't really have a chance to think it through either, because I was overwhelmed with so many different things in that second before I opened my eyes.

There was a distinct smell of honeysuckle on the air, mingled with fresh grass and even dew. Only, these smells were so much more powerful than what I would have expected them to be. There were also four other distinct smells, and the faintest hint of something I couldn't describe. All I knew was that it made my head start to spin. Then I opened my eyes. That only made the spinning worse.

I felt as if I was looking through a new pair of eyes. Everything was so clear. The colors of the woods seemed more vivid, the sun seemed brighter, and I could see further away than I ever have. I also saw that I was lying on the ground, with Warren standing over me; Bethany, Joshua, and that police officer sitting against a tree.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to get the spinning in my head to stop and trying to recall anything that could help me figure out what is going on. But I can't. The last thing I remember is crashing.

Then I realized where I was. In the woods. Lying on the ground and aching like hell. Surrounded by three people I probably shouldn't be within a hundred miles of, and Bethany, who I can now see is handcuffed and sandwiched between Joshua and Officer Asshole.

"Can you move?" Warren asks, poking my side with his foot. I let out a yelp at the contact, because my body is ridiculously sore. I've been in a few car crashes before—thanks to my dad's amazing driving skills—and I certainly didn't feel like this afterwards. Then again, none of them were this bad.

Still, I try moving to see if I can. I try moving my legs, and although they are stiff, they work just fine. Then I try my arms. Next, I try curling my fingers-

Holy hell.

Where did my fingers go?

And why am I looking at a paw?

All thoughts of pain flee my mind as I jump up from my spot in surprise, staring wide-eyed at the dark brown fur-covered, thumb-less paw connected to where my arm would usually be. I think I try to scream, but it comes out like a high-pitched whine.

My eyes dart around to everyone watching me with caution, waiting for someone to explain why the hell I have a paw. Four of them to be exact. And a tail!

I have. A tail.

Something is connected to my butt.

Tail. Butt. My butt has a tail connected to it.

Once I stop spinning in circles trying to get a good look at this thing currently adorning my butt, I notice the ripped clothes that I had once been wearing. One more look at Warren, and I know exactly what has happened.

It isn't some glorious revelation or anything—I knew from the moment I saw that I had paws and a new appendage what had went down. I guess I thought that by maybe chasing my tail around like an idiot, all the while having Joshua and Officer Asshole laugh at me, that I would suddenly wake up from this bizarre dream. Wake up, snuggled next to Cayton, as a human.

Cayton.

Oh damn. He is not going to be happy.

When I try to ask for an explanation, my words come out as a jumbled barking sound.

"I think we're done here," Joshua says, pushing himself up from his spot on the ground. Officer Asshole does the same, but Bethany stays on the ground, looking at me with unshed tears making her green eyes glossy. "It was a pleasure doing business with you." He strides over and shakes Warren's hand, both giving each other curt nods.

I don't know if I'm completely pissed off, or dumbfounded by this. Are they really treating this as a business deal? Oh, god, what is the deal anyways? So, I'm a freaking werewolf now, and what, Joshua gets me? Dear lord, I hope not.

"Thank you for your time," Warren responds. Joshua nods again and looks down at me, before petting my head.

"Who's a good girl?" he coos mockingly. I snap at his hand, growling. That is so degrading! I mean, I know I've been a wolf for five minutes, but that doesn't make it ok. He's treating me like a dog-

Huh, so that's how that feels. Whoops.

He jerks his hand back before I can get a hold of it, chuckling quietly to himself. "I wish you the best of luck when you get home," he says, looking to Warren before making his way back over to the tree, where Bethany is still sitting, staring at me. The tears are now streaming down her cheeks, and she looks to the ground in shame as Joshua holds out a hand to her.

She takes his hand, her wrists still bound together by the handcuffs. I realize that the smell that was and still is currently making my head spin is from those handcuffs, and I briefly wonder what they are made of.

Another thing I notice as I try and recognize the smell is that Warren and Bethany both have a familiar scent to them—something I couldn't quite put words to—while Joshua and Officer Asshole both have a different scent to them, something that wasn't as pleasant and faintly resembled a skunk.

Once Bethany is on her feet, she gives me one last look, mouthing 'I'm sorry', before Joshua is holding her by the elbow, and Officer Asshole is flanking her. I want to do something, but seeing as I have no idea what to do, I look to Warren, hoping he might have a semblance of humanity left in him.

When he acts as if nothing is going on, I realize he won't do anything. So that's it? He isn't going to try to pull some elaborate stunt to get us both?

Did he not think his actions through? Was he so desperate to have a werewolf Luna that he would risk his own life to get it? He must know that Carter will murder him when he finds out he gave Bethany to Joshua. Not to mention, Cayton isn't going to be happy that Warren risked my life just to change me.

"Have a nice trip," Officer says, smirking in our direction before following Joshua and Bethany into the trees, leaving Warren and me alone in this clearing.

I take a step in the direction they went, only to be stopped by Warren stepping in front of me.

"Don't do it," he says. "You'll only create more trouble."

What more trouble could there honestly be? I think to myself.

'I can think of a few things. Death, incarceration, decapitation...'

'I think decapitation falls under the category of death,' I respond, before freezing and realizing that was not me talking to... myself. Ok, that sounds crazy. Maybe I'm going crazy. Great. Alright, so that was me, but it wasn't me.

I think I start turning in circles at that point, looking around for whomever this disembodied voice, which is vaguely similar to mine, belongs to.

'Oh boy, I've got a genius on my hands,' the voice mutters.

'Hey!'

'Look, sweetie, it's me, your wolf. Well, technically it's you too, but since you don't seem to be processing this quick enough...'

That's just what I needed. A snippy, sarcastic inner voice that is apparently my 'wolf'. No, I'm clearly going insane.

I'm just about to reply with something equally as sarcastic, until Warren clears his throat. I stop my absentminded, deranged turning, and am vaulted back to reality.

Right, where was I? Oh yea. Warren has just had me changed into a werewolf, while giving Bethany to Joshua, who just walked off into the woods.

I wonder if Warren is really so devoted to the pack, that he would betray the leaders, his own son, just to do what he thinks is best. Or does he just hate the fact that he isn't getting his way, and that he's been proven wrong? I think I was plenty capable to help Cayton run the pack as a human, but he thought I was too weak to do it. Could he not stand that he may have been wrong?

"Come on," he mutters, starting towards the opposite direction of where Joshua went. I glare at his back, refusing to move as a protest. I can't exactly tell him what's on my mind, so my wolfy expressions will have to do. He stops when he realizes I'm not following. "I said come."

I want to tell him to shove it, but due to the fact that I am a wolf incapable of forming words, I just growl. He looks at me, as if doubting I just growled at him.

I'm not leaving unless Bethany is with me. Partly because she's become a close friend, but also because I feel guilty. I dragged her along on this trip, I was the one who crashed the car, and I was the one who stood dumbly as I watched them carry her away.

"Don't make me force you," Warren says in a seemingly calm voice, but if he's anything like Cayton, it's implying a threat. Like the calm before the storm.

How can he even think about showing his face to anyone again? It's a shame really. He has an uncanny ability to deceive, which is being put to use against his own pack, his own son.

When he realizes I won't budge, he marches over and before I can form some wolfy sentence, he grabs me by my neck and starts towing me. I whimper at the amount of pressure, looking longingly at the trees I watched Bethany be whisked away into. I try digging my paws—I'm not going to get used to this—into the ground to stop myself from moving, but Warren keeps pulling.

I can't leave her in the hands of Joshua. I don't even know what Joshua wants with her, and I can't help but feel a little bit of smugness at the fact that I was right, Joshua wasn't after me. The smugness is quickly dissipated as I remember what I need to focus on.

And since it looks like I'm going to get no help from Warren, I decide to take matters into my own hand.

Hey, if he's going to treat me like a wild animal, I'm going to act like one.

I sink my teeth into the closest part of him to me, which would be his side.

He winces, biting back a cry of pain I suppose. Nevertheless, it's enough to cause him to release his hold on me. I bite down as hard as I can, hoping to leave a pretty decent wound and get some sort of payback for now. After all, once Cayton and Carter get a hold of him, I won't need to do much.

I have to stop when the taste of blood fills my mouth, and I start gagging. When he finally screams in pain, falling to his knees, I unclamp my teeth and dart off into the trees, hoping my new schnoz is picking up on Joshua's scent.

And I follow it, running as fast as I can.

*

Let me remind you of something before I explain: I was human almost an hour ago. A very unathletic human at that. Just because I was changed and given superhuman abilities, doesn't change the fact that I am not in shape.

I think it's only thirty minutes into my non-stop running that I realize that if I don't stop, I will probably pass out. My lungs start burning, and it takes all of my strength to not topple over.

I skid to a stop, panting. I'm almost positive my heart rate is higher than it's ever been, and not in the good way.

This is why I don't exercise.

I honestly hope Warren didn't decide to follow me. Odds are, if he is, he's going to find me and, more than likely, murder me.

Well, at least I have something to look forward to, I mutter, before collapsing onto my stomach, still panting. I could really go for some water right now...

I huff and lay my head on my hands, er, paws. Maybe I should have just gone with Warren, let Cayton and Carter take care of him, and then take care of the situation with Joshua.

There's that thinking ahead ability again. I should just go back. I mean, I don't even know where I'm going, and I've long since lost any trace of a scent. All that I can smell is nature, and although it's lovely, it serves no purpose to me right now.

Then it hits my nose again—that skunk-like stink. I'm on my feet cautiously, heading in the direction of the smell as quietly as I can. It isn't my area of expertise though—I manage to step on everything that can make noise.

'I think you should turn around,' my supposed wolf says.

'Why?' I question, only three seconds before I'm knocked to the ground again by something slamming into my side. I yelp at the impact, before all the air is knocked from my lungs and I'm struggling for breath as a large, blonde wolf pins me down, snarling in my face.

'That's why.'

I truly can't get a break today, can I?

I wiggle underneath this oversized dog, yelping and growling back. No matter what I do, I can't get out from under him. I debate on biting him, that is, until I meet this person's eyes.

I stop moving then, paralyzed with shock and wonder. Whoever it stops moving as well, staring back with a similar expression.

I've seen some pretty unique eye colors, but this one take the cake. Two yellow eyes stare down at me, and for a brief second I wonder if this is actually a wolf, or a werewolf. Surely, a human can't have that eye color.

He cautiously steps away from me, tilting his head to the side as he examines me, as if I've grown a second head. In all fairness, I'm doing the same to him, but I have a reason. His eyes are yellow. It's not something you see everyday.

And then, in the blink of an eye, fur disappears, body parts take on new shapes, and he's on two legs instead of four, confirming that he is in fact a werewolf. A young one at that, no more than a year or so older than me.

I avert my eyes from him, rolling on my stomach to look away. That's when I see someone else standing behind me, fully clothed and swinging a pair of handcuffs around his finger. He looks down at me with disparagement.

I cover my face with my paws, unhappy about this situation right now.

What is it with me always getting trapped in the middle of the woods with two werewolves?

Granted, last time I wasn't one myself, and Cayton was on his way to rescue me. This time, however, I don't think I'll be so lucky.

"Waylon, what are you doing?" the man asks to the boy who had previously tackled me. His voice is rather authoritative if I do say so myself, in a way that you know means he's the 'all work, no play' type of guy.

"Sorry, I got... distracted," Waylon mumbles.

"You, shift, now," the man orders me. I look up at him briefly, just enough to see the shock pass in his eyes. He looks at me, then back to Waylon, an assessing look on his face. "Interesting. Now, shift."

I blink up at him. If I had any idea how, I might have done so already. Too bad this doesn't come with an instruction manual.

His expression turns annoyed at my incompetence, and he grabs me by the back of the neck, forcing me to my feet. I yelp, complying and standing up. "Shift," he orders again.

I can't you dillhole! I scream in my mind. Externally, I whimper and hop around hoping to somehow communicate that I can't.

"I don't think she knows how," Waylon offers up. I look at him gratefully, then back to the man and nod my oversized head.

"Dumb ass rogues," he mutters. "Look, it isn't that difficult," he starts to explain. There are a lot of hand gestures and yelling, and me standing there dumbly as he explains. The essence of what he's saying: Picture yourself as human, concentrate, and just let it happen. Why it isn't that easy, I don't know.

I try, but it doesn't work with all the yelling he's doing. He's getting frustrated to the point where his face is red, and I want to laugh but don't because I'm sure it would just piss him off more.

Finally, I huff and fall back down to my stomach. The man groans.

"Did you not receive an education, or were you dropped on your head as a baby?" he spits, looking down on me with narrowed, accusing eyes. I frown at him. That was rude.

"Donny, give her a break. You don't know what happened to make her like this," Waylon says, finally stepping in. I'm pretty sure he was laughing most of the time.

He steps over and kneels down in front of me. Thank god he put some shorts on, though. "Ok, just take a deep breath," he orders softly. After staring at him distrustfully, he nods, so I sigh and take a deep breath. "Ok, now just picture yourself as a human."

Closing my eyes, I picture myself fixing my hair in the mirror just before I had left home. Ok, that's me, so now what?

"Now, just relax and concentrate on that image," Waylon says.

I relax as much as I can with them still around, and concentrate on the image.

When I'm about to say screw it and take off again, I feel a sharp pain in my legs, soon followed by my entire body. The sound of cracks and pops fill the air, and I hiss at the sting. Is this what it's going to be like every time?

I squeeze my eyes shut as things rearrange, reform, and withdraw, painfully so.

"For god sake," I cry out when the pain stops.

"It'll hurt the first few times," Waylon says. I open my eyes and look up to see him holding out a shirt for me. I look back down, realizing that here I am, stark naked.

My cheeks heat up in record speed, and I grab the shirt from him and pull it on over my head faster than I have done anything before. Once I have it pulled on and covering all the necessities, I sit back on my legs, carefully examining my body. I would have thought there would be some sort of difference—possibly a few broken bones after that little experience—but not even a cut remains.

"Now that we have that done," Donny grinds out, "what are you doing on Midnight Fire territory?"

"Um... Just passing through?" I say apprehensively. What am I supposed to say? I came here to get back a girl Joshua took after changing me into a werewolf. If this is Midnight Fire territory, I'm guessing Joshua would be Donny and Waylon's Alpha, and this conversation would take an ugly turn.

Donny grits his teeth as Waylon stands up, holding out a hand for me. "Trespassing is punishable by death, Rogue," Donny says.

"Ok..." I say slowly, not getting his point. I offer Waylon's help, tugging the shirt down further as I stand up.

"Which means, as of now, you are under arrest," he says. I hear the clink of something and a sharp smell greets my nose. I crinkle my nose at the smell. Then, his words sink in. Just in time too. He grabs one of my wrists and slaps a cuff on, and I wince. Whatever it is made of burns like hell.

"Wait, I was just about to leave," I say, trying to yank my hand out of the cuff.

"Too bad. Your kind doesn't need to be roaming around anyways," he growls, grabbing my other wrist roughly, before twisting my arm behind my back and binding my hand together.

"If I had any idea what you were talking about I might be able to sort this out!" I yell, suddenly exceptionally angry.

He doesn't respond before pushing me into Waylon. After stumbling and Waylon helping me straighten up, I glare back at Donny.

"Hold her. I'm going to call the Alpha," he says. He whips out his cell phone before treading away from us. I glare at the back of his head, hoping that maybe being a werewolf now means I can shoot lasers out of my eyes, or something of that nature.

When he's out of earshot, I turn to Waylon, a pleading look on my face. "This is all one big misunderstanding," I begin in a hushed voice. He raises an eyebrow at me.

"What happened to you?" he asks. "How did you get changed, I mean."

"Your Alpha!" I say, louder and more irate than I had intended. To this, a sorrowful, yet curious, look passes his face.

"Why?" he questions.