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THE WORLD FROZE overnight, glazing the forest in a glittering frost. Crisp leaves sparkled with droplets of icy rain and the trees shimmered with icicles that hung like daggers waiting to plunge to the ground. Dewy cobwebs glistened in the soft morning light, a deep orange hue that spread its fingers through the branches, waking the day with the touch of its glow. The light dappled when the trees wavered in the breeze but there was not heat in the watery rays that fell across the woods like a hazy dream.

The colour behind Adele's eyelids shifted from black to red as the morning pulled her from sleep and she threw her arm over her eyes to block out the undulating light. She could be a night owl and she could be an early bird but right now she just wished that the trees would block out the sun and give her a couple more hours of sleep. There were times that she could go days without seeing the sun in the sky.

She wished that today was one of those days. Caleb had been restless all night, the mattress dipping beneath his heavy footsteps as he had turned around and around in circles trying to get comfortable – as though there was space for him to do that. She had thumped him a couple of times and kicked him off the bed at one point, but he was still right there when she opened her eyes, his tail draped over her legs.

"For fuck's sake," she muttered, pushing his paw off her stomach. "Maybe I'm the idiot. Is that it? You're probably not even a fucking werewolf, are you? Just a big dumb regular wolf eating my food and sleeping in my fucking bed." Scowling at his sleeping form, she clambered over him when her bladder woke up and as she left, she held the door she grumbled, "You're really taking the piss now, Caleb. This isn't fucking funny."

The rest of the house was dark but she knew every inch too well to need her eyes to adjust as she stumbled to the bathroom. She had reached the end of her tether but she didn't know what she could possibly do if Caleb kept refusing to show her who he was. She couldn't force him out, sending him to a certain death, but neither could she bear to spend another day with her voice the only one in the cabin.

That had never bothered her before but now her head was buzzing with infuriating curiosity and the only person with the answers couldn't speak. Or he wouldn't. He could understand her; he could hear her frustrations each time she asked him to shift, if only to give her the answers she needed: she had given him time and space, a safe place to heal and eat, and all he had given her was a companion she had never asked for.

She fumed in the bathroom, scowling as she scrubbed her hands and tugged on her dressing gown, and she harrumphed when she headed into the kitchen. Refilling Caleb's water bowl on instinct, she sagged against the counter as the kettle boiled. Coffee was expensive but it was one of few, if not the only luxury she afforded herself, though it was more of a necessity by now. Whether she got ten hours of sleep or two, it was always her first port of call. Her grandmother had been the same way, a habit Adele had inherited after the death of the woman she had worshipped.

As she filled her mug, she glanced out of the window but for all she could tell, she might as well have been adrift in the ocean. An eerie mist had settled over the frozen ground, stretching halfway up the trees that stretched to the sky. Adele shivered, hugging her dressing gown tighter around herself, and curled her toes against the tiles. The thermometer by the window had dropped below zero: it was minus three degrees, and it felt it. The cabin had poor insulation, seeming to suck in the cold and keep it there, and her thick flannel pyjamas did nothing to stop her from shivering. The coffee helped, the mug hot in her hands, but all she wanted to do was crawl back into bed with the heater on high.

Yawning, she shuffled back to her room down the dingy corridor and she took a sip of the near-scalding brew as she opened the door, only to snort it out when she saw the strip of tanned skin highlighted by a sliver of sun. She caught her breath, her heart suddenly pumping a million miles a minute to see the man she had been waiting for, and she wrapped her hand around the door frame to steady her surprise.

She wasn't sure what she had been expecting but after four days of caring for a white wolf, part of her had expected him to be blonde but the man lying naked across her bed was anything but. Swarthy skin stretched over tight muscles that led to broad shoulders, one strong arm over his head as he slept. A tangle of dark hair reached his sharp jaw, splayed out over the pillow like a murky halo, and one knee was pulled up at a right angle to his sharp defined abs.

The light snuck across the dimples at the small of his back and as Adele's eyes traced lower, she bit her lip to keep from making a sound. He was tall. That was no surprise. He lay at an angle, his foot dangling off the edge of the bed. Definitely over six feet, she guessed; certainly a lot taller than her. Taller than Angus.

Lifting her mug to her lips, she stepped into the room and pushed the door shut, loud enough to rouse him from his sleep. He stirred, shifting onto his side. It was an effort to tear her eyes up to meet his, the same colour as the coffee in her hand, and she smiled when she did. He smiled right back, as though he had just seen the sun for the first time.

"Adele," he said. His deep voice was hoarse. She wondered when he had last used it.

"You must be Caleb," she said, resting against her wardrobe. "Nice to meet you at last ... all of you."

His thick eyebrows pulled together, pushing a line into his forehead. "I ... don't know what you mean."

"People usually wear clothes in the presence of other people," she said, gesturing to her pyjamas. "See?" She tilted her head at him, trying to organise the questions in her mind. "You must've been a wolf for a while, huh? How long've you been a werewolf?"

"All my life," he said. He made no effort to cover himself up. Adele didn't mind.

"I mean, when were you last a human?"

He sat up and ran a hand through his hair, pushing it to one side. It fell back over his face. "Before I found you."

She raised her eyebrows, tilting her head to the side. "You found me?" she asked, the words coming out as slowly as her brain was processing them. Caleb nodded, gazing up at her, and she let out a heavy sigh. "Ok," she said at last, "I have a lot of questions. But first, you need to put something on."

"On where?"

"Your body. Some clothes. I have Ainslie's dad's stuff."

Caleb stood and she took in the sight in all his glory. He was almost a foot taller than her, at least six foot four, but the cabin wasn't built for that kind of height. The ceiling was only a couple of inches taller than him, the door a few inches shorter, and although he towered over Adele, he still seemed to look up to her.

Ainslie's father was a slight man, it seemed. There was no way any of his small shirts could be persuaded to stretched over Caleb's muscles, the jeans too narrow to fit past his knees. It had been worth a try, Adele thought, though she hadn't considered the fact that the clothes wouldn't fit.

"Ok," she mused while Caleb sat on the edge of her bed. She tapped her finger against her lips. "I have some tracksuit bottoms that might stretch and..." Sifting through her assortment of oversized jumpers, she found a men's extra-large fleece. It was ridiculously big on her, the sleeves extending a few inches past her fingertips, but it was perfect when she needed to layer up. "Try this," she said, handing it over.

It would do for now. The bottoms, comfortably long on her, were too short for him, stopping a couple of inches above his ankles, and she had no shoes that would fit his huge feet. She was only a five; she guessed he was at least a thirteen, long toes and elegant arches that swooped up to strong legs. Impressive calves and mighty thighs; a muscular V that swept down from his hips.

She dragged her eyes up to his. Everything felt different now, as though she had stepped into an alternate universe. For four days, she had nurtured a wolf and now he was a man: she had fed him and stroked him, protected him and slept by his side. She couldn't scratch his head or feel his warm muzzle on her thigh; she wouldn't hear him growl or whimper when now, he had words.

And she was dying to hear them.

*

"You found me," she said, wrapping her hands around a second cup of coffee. She couldn't bear to watch Caleb devour the raw guts now that he had shifted, so she had cooked up slices of liver and kidney over the fire and he had watched with amazement in his eyes as the fire whirled in his dark irises.

"I found you," he said, picking at the tender meat with his fingers.

"I thought I found you," she said.

"We found each other," he said. "I had to find you. And I did."

Adele pursed her lips. "You're lucky you did," she said. "You wouldn't have lasted another four days out there." She shuddered and gripped her coffee tighter and her voice quietened when she asked, "Who are you?"

"Caleb," he said. "You know that. You're clever. You understood."

"I know your name," she said, running her thumb over the rim of her mug. "We figured that much out, but who are you? Where've you been all this time?" She pursed her lips. "You said you've been a werewolf your whole life, right?"

"Yes," he said. "I'm a fior."

"You're going to have to explain that," she said. "I'm not down with the Lycan lingo."

That seemed to confuse him; she simplified the question.

"What's a Fior?"

"That's what I am," he said. "A pure werewolf. My parents were werewolves; I was born under the full moon."

"Where are your parents?"

"They were killed," he said, his words turning hard. "They were hunted before I knew them, by the ... what are they called, the hunters?"

"The Honour Guard," she said.

"You told me about them," he said. "They're the ones who tried to kill me too, aren't they?"

She nodded. "Do you remember what happened?"

"You saved me," he said.

"Before that." She laid her hand flat on the table. He mirrored her. "You said the hunters tried to kill you. What happened? Why did you come to me?"

He held her gaze. Ordinarily, so much eye contact was unnerving but she didn't find herself put off by his gaze: there was no judgment, no expectation. Just trust, as though he wanted to share everything with her but he just wasn't sure how.

"We were attacked," he said, his voice gruff. "The hunters tried to kill us; they nearly did but we escaped."

"Who's we? There's another werewolf?" she asked, remembering what Creighton had said. Two wolves. Both had escaped.

"My brother," he said. He gritted his teeth. "They got him, bad. I tried to help him but he was badly injured. He's not as strong as me. I ... I had to leave him. I don't know where he is. I don't know if he's alive. I don't know if he's out there."

Adele swallowed hard. "They haven't got him. The hunters: they didn't catch him," she said. "I would know if they'd found him but they didn't. He must still be out there. He must be ok."

"You're not a hunter," he said. A fact, not a question. "You don't want to kill me."

"No. I don't believe in murdering people," she said, "and as far as I can see, you're all man."

"You want to help," he said. Adele nodded.

"What have I spent the past week doing, huh?" She gave him a smile. He didn't return it.

"I have to find him," Caleb said. "I shouldn't have left him."

"You had to," Adele said. "You would've died if you'd stayed with him."

"Then I should have died. He's not strong; I should have stayed with him."

Adele pulled her feet up onto the armchair. Caleb sat on the floor, the fire warming his back. He shook his head, torture in his eyes. "It's not your fault," she said. "They're evil people. They would have killed you, you know that. I've told you that. You did the right thing, letting me help you. And we can find your brother, I'm sure. Is he a fior too?"

Caleb shook his head. "He's a leth," he said, and he seemed to catch on that Adele was new to the language. "He was turned. He was human before, so he's not strong. He's weak. He can't control himself and he doesn't know the woods."

"He was turned?" A shiver ran through her. "When? Who turned him? How old is he?"

Caleb winced. "You have a lot of questions," he said. "That's too many at the same time."

"How old is your brother?" she asked, forcing herself to reign in her desperation to have every single fact laid down in front of her. That would take a while, she felt.

"Eighteen."

"Oh my God. He's young," she said. "When was he turned?"

"Two years ago," Caleb said. "He was attacked by a saoghail." He looked up at Adele, taking in her clueless expression. "A ... I don't know what word you would use. A ... a savage. A traitor. The kind of werewolf whose fault it is that we're hunted. They attacked him, and he became my brother."

"So he's not really your brother? You took him in, like I helped you?" She pulled her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs.

"Yes," Caleb said. He held his hands in front of the fire. "He became my brother when we brought him into our pack, but now it's just us. Just me."

"Because of the Honour Guard?"

"Yes. It's hard for us to stick together when everyone wants us dead, but I've never left my brother before. They're looking for him. They've been looking for him for as long as I've known him but if they find him, they'll kill him."

"I don't get it," she said. "What do you mean? They're looking for him specifically, or they're just looking for werewolves in general?"

"They're looking for him." He held her gaze. "They say they want to find him, to help him, but they'll kill him if they find him."

Adele struggled to follow what he was saying, thrust into a whole new life that she didn't understand, until something clicked and she felt her blood run cold. "Hold on a second," she said, uncurling herself from the chair and darting to her bedroom, returning with a box of clippings that her grandmother had started and she had continued. The one she was looking for was right at the top, an unmuddied copy of the poster that had littered the town two years ago.

She held it out to Caleb. "Is this your brother?"

His eyes went through a hundred emotions in a second, a journey from the elation of recognition to crushing despair. "My brother," he said. "Reed. You know him?"

"Oh, God," Adele said. A quiver slipped into her hands. "He went missing. He lived here and he went missing a couple of years ago. He's alive? He was turned? Oh, God. His parents still live in town, Caleb. They think he's dead. They searched for him and the whole time he was right here in the woods? With you?"

Caleb nodded gravely. "You can't tell anybody, Adele. You can't. If they think he's dead ... that's good. They won't look for him."

"But their son's alive," she said, her voice faltering. "They need to know that!"

"No. You know they can't know that, Adele. He's a werewolf. It's better that they think he's dead."

She opened her mouth and closed it again, hopeless words failing on her tongue. He was right. She knew that. The Guard was ruthless. They wouldn't care that Reed's parents were reunited with their son two years after he was presumed dead: they would only care that he had been turned into a monster, regardless of whether or not that was what he was.

"Please," Caleb said.

"I won't say anything." She covered her face with her hands for a moment. "God. This is a lot. There's a lot I don't understand. I don't get it, Caleb. You know about the hunters; they killed your parents and they tried to kill you and Reed, so why did you let me help you? Why didn't you think I would kill you too?" Her confusion was written across her face, her forehead wrinkling as she tried to piece together the jagged fragments of his story. There was a lot missing but she couldn't get her head around the right questions to ask.

"Because I knew," he said.

"You knew me? You've seen me before?"

"No," he said. "But I felt you. I could feel you were near, so I looked for you. You found me and I knew. You're a coibhneil." A slight smile found its way onto his lips. He glanced at the fire before his gaze returned to Adele. "You're the only one I've ever met. I didn't know there were any left."

"What the fuck? What's a ... whatever you just said?" She pulled a face, a shiver of dread running through her. Part of her was beginning to wish she had never got herself into this, that she had never seen him on the side of the road. Life would be a lot easier if she had gone straight home that night after dropping Ainslie off, if she had cracked open a beer and had an early night. But she hadn't, and as much as she wished she could, she couldn't rewrite history.

"A sympathiser," he said. "I think that's the right word. A human who can be trusted. I knew you wouldn't hurt me." He gave her a smile, and for a moment she felt as though he was searing into her soul. "You're the one. You're the only one."

Adele sucked in a deep breath and let it out, long and slow. "Ok," she said. "I know I've been saying I wanted to talk but this really is a lot to take on. But you're right: I'm a sympathiser. A, the word you said."

"Coibhneil."

"Yes. That. But I don't know what I can do," she said, shaking her head in despair. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do, Caleb. You're putting a lot of pressure on me; all I wanted to do was help you get back on your feet. I don't know how safe you are. Did anyone see you in human form?"

He shook his head. "No. They never saw my face."

"Ok. Well, that's something, I guess." She let out a sigh ran a hand through her hair.

"I saw theirs," he said. "I know who shot me."

"You do?" She jumped to her feet, heading to the cupboard in the pantry. "I have the Honour Guard members log; I have all their photos. You can tell me who it was."

"I don't need a photo," he said. "I saw her. She was here the other day."

Adele froze, her hand halfway to the cupboard. "She?" she asked, her voice dropping.

Caleb nodded, distress lacing his eyes when he sensed the shift in Adele's stance. "Your sister."

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at last ... human caleb!

i hope you liked this chapter. i know it was a bit awkward and stilted, but this is their first conversation, after all, and i don't want to give it all away at once. (plus it's 3:30 in the morning and i'm a little sleep-deprived and probably confused by my own writing right now so i apologise that it's not quite up to standard!) 

i also know it was a bit of a werewolf info dump, so i've made a note of the words/pronunciations/definitions that caleb uses; any chapters featuring other new words will have an explanation at the end. these are terms i have come up with myself for the werewolves, from scots gaelic (hence the funky spellings/pronunciations), so please don't steal them

fior: (fee-or) a pure werewolf born under the full moon
leth: (leth) a turned werewolf
saoghail: (say-oh-vale) a savage werewolf
coibhneil: (coy-vuh-nail) a human who sympathises with werewolves