I want to stay, really, I do. I gaze at her from where she’s laying, naked and vulnerable and asleep in my arms. She’s trusting me to stay, like she always does. But that trust is misplaced, because I never stay. I get up, and she falls from my arms. She wakes when my warmth is no longer a comfort because I have taken away, and I bite back the urge to beg on my knees for her to forgive me.

She awakes, bleary-eyed. She reaches out for me and whines, but I don’t let her touch me. She curls up into a ball, pulling the covers around her. I transform, but tamp down the screams of pain that want to spill from my lips.

Werewolves are two-spirit. If you and your wolf get along, then transformations are much more willing. But me? My wolf and I hate each other with a burning passion. Even if I have control over it most of the time, transitions are extremely painful and gruesome. She doesn’t know what’s going on at first, and flies off the bed. She sinks to her knees on the floor in front of me, and holds me to her chest.

Her eyes are shut tightly, but she holds me nonetheless. She’s holding a wolf’s body now, and that starts to register. She climbed back into bed, scratching between my ears. A low rumbling noise spills from my throat, and she smiles delightedly. She does her best to pull me onto the bed, and I’m filled with panic.

M wolf has taken over- I don’t have control right now. Even worse? My wolf recognizes her as its mate. I was hungry, and I just wanted to transform to hunt. Now she’s letting me like I’m a dog! My wolf’s tail is wagging, and I’m nuzzling into her chest.

She doesn’t seem to mind my canine form, and my wolf seems to like her. Protect, protect, protect. My wolf whispers, as she pulls the covers over both of us to keep us warm. Suddenly, I’m struck with the urge to create a nest within the den that is my home. I want to keep her safe and warm. I can feel myself getting territorial, protective of my space and my woman.

God, look at me! I’m calling her my woman- she’s not mine! We’re not even together! I finally regain enough mental strength to turn back to my human form, but to my dismay my wolf still has control. She gasps again, and kisses me. I lick her lips because I like the way her kisses taste, and this seems to bring her much joy.

I curl my larger body around hers, the thought of hunting temporarily fading as the need to keep her warm and create a nest for her and pups we won’t have if I can do anything about it. Goddamnit, pups? What the hell am I thinking!? I want ask, but instead my wolf pushes out my last bit of human instinct and that if the wolf take over.