Harper

"Am I some kind of sick joke to you?" I shouted at Chris. "You did this to humiliate me!"

"It's not a joke, Harper. Come and join me," Chris yelled back, splashing the water as he swam.

I put my clothes and shoes back on and ran, speeding past the lighthouse and toward the cabin. I tried to hold back my tears, but they kept rolling down my face, staining it with sorrow. My ankles gave way to the crooked path, causing me to stumble. Reaching for the steadiness of the nearest birch tree, I leaned forward as my eyes caught sight of an old swing behind the forest leaves.

Interesting. I wondered how old the swing was. The ropes seemed sturdy and secure, despite being covered with moss, and the wooden plank seemed thick and sturdy. A gentle breeze shook the fragile leaves, and they parted, inviting me to try the swing.

I accepted the invitation, perched on the swing, and gripped the ropes. My feet pushed the ground and lifted off, launching me to my midair flight. Until I felt the plank's sturdiness sink into depression. I tried to get up, but it was too late. A violent gush of air whooshed out of my lungs as I fell hard on the ground. A shock wave traveled from my spine to my brain before pain bludgeoned its way throughout my buttocks and legs.

"Somebody, help me!" I shouted. Despair surrounded my soul like a blackened whirlwind, bringing me to a dark and haunted mental place.

I wept in agony because my problems caught up with me. I needed to unleash my pain. My anger. My despair. I howled, releasing the intensity of my anguish. Hell broke loose. Raw memories of my younger self took me back in time. I was the awkward, dark-haired dork next to my gorgeous blonde sister and our friends in high school and college. While they danced, laughed, and made out, I stood alone with the shadow. I always thought the shadow reminded me of a wolf. It kept me company.

Men called me names. Beanstalk. Ugly. Beak-nosed. Plain. "You're like a sister to me," the nice guys said. Always like a sister, but never a lover.

A low howl from the forest broke my lamentation, sending me back to the present day. My ears pricked as I got up from the ground and listened to more howls. Under normal circumstances, I would have panicked. Yet, instinct kicked in, calming my nerves.

A majestic animal, the king of the forest, padded slowly past the bushes and stopped at my feet. I gasped in awe of the gray wolf I dreamed about. He was magnificent—almost as big as a dire wolf—with thick, healthy fur and a powerfully built frame. He signaled a greeting with a fluid tail wag as he approached me.

"Aren't you the most beautiful animal on this island?" I kneeled and offered my hand, allowing the wolf to lick the salt from my skin. He stared at me with kind, gray eyes—the same shade as Chris's. There was a saying that animals looked like their owners, and I guessed it was true.

"You truly are Chris Varg's wolf, aren't you? You belong here," I said, stroking the animal's coat. He seemed to like the attention because he kept pawing and licking my hands and arms.

The wolf followed me to my cabin, keeping close to my legs. Moments later, after giving him a piece of salami, I sat on the bed and patted the space next to me. "Come here, boy. Rest up before you go out again. I've left the door open for you in case I fall asleep."

Understanding my invitation, he hopped on the bed, placed his paw on my arm, then tickled my neck with loving and affectionate licks. The tears emerged again as I continued stroking the wolf's fur. Except, these were tears of relief.

"Do you want to know the truth about me?" I asked Chris's wolf. "I got involved with the wrong guy. Jackson Smith. We worked at the same college, teaching adults. I thought he was kind and loving when we first started dating, but he humiliated me in the worst possible way."

The wolf turned his neck, and his eyes begged for me to tell him more about my heartache.

"Do you have a name?" I asked. The friendly predator placed his paw on my hand and rested his head on the pillow.

"Jackson filmed us in bed without my knowledge. I was so stupid to trust him and believe he could love me. I mean, who could love Harper Ross, huh?"

The wolf's eyes lit up, full of surprise.

"Yep, my ex-boyfriend made a sex tape of me and published it online, calling it 'The Ugly Duckling.' Do you know I had to resign from my teaching job after the film was distributed to some of the men in the faculty? And he kept his job! My 'vacation' is indefinite, at least until I find another job. That is how unfair the world is outside Varg Island."

Chris's wolf lifted its head and licked my fingers, giving them little nips.

"You and I are misunderstood animals. We're treated like outcasts," I lamented, caressing the wolf's muzzle.

"Now you know why I'm here. I don't want to go home because I don't know where home is anymore." I rested my head on the pillow near the wolf's face.

Chris, I need to talk to you. I'm ready for you now. I regretted running away from him. He teased me, but he didn't mean to hurt me. Chris's teasing reminded me of my painful past, but I had to end the pity party. I needed to forgive myself and apologize to him.

He did nothing wrong.

Sleep began to possess my body, taking me to a world of dreams where I would howl together with the wolves. There was something therapeutic about it. It was as if I were giving the world back its problems and telling it to fuck off.

***

Slowly opening my eyes, I returned to reality from my peaceful nap and glanced out the window. Nightfall hit the rocky shores, casting glorious darkness onto the ocean. I reached out to stroke the wolf's fur, only to feel a human arm. I tried to scream, but nothing came out. My heart pounded as I lay frozen, afraid to turn to my left to see who was there.

Shit. Why did I leave the door open? Had the wolf abandoned me? Had my ex-boyfriend found his way to the island? He was a sadistic person, horrible enough to ruin people because it was fun for him. Who knew what he was capable of? Torture? Kidnap? Murder?

Slowly, ever so slowly, I turned my head and dared to look at the human by my side.

Oh. My. God.

"Shit!" I screamed as I sprung up from the bed. Shock gripped my shoulders, and my legs trembled, while my heart tried to lunge out of my body.

"What the heck?" I grabbed the pillow, preparing to attack.

Sure enough, there was a nude man in my bed—Chris Varg.

"Stop hitting me!" he barked, shielding my pillow slams with his elbow.

His deep voice triggered a calming effect, so I dropped the pillow. My shoulders started to relax, and my heartbeats slowed down. "Why the fuck are you naked in my bed? Did I invite you here? Don't you understand what consent means? Should I spell it out? C-O-N—"

"There was consent. You invited me here," Chris answered.

"You have some explaining to do. Where's your wolf?" I probed, placing my hands on my hips.

Neither of us spoke for a while as Chris stared at me with a half-grin. Shit, that son of a—

"That wolf you invited? You're looking at him."

"What do you mean? Stop playing with me, Chris!"

"I'm not playing with you, Harper. I am the wolf."

***