Free Winter of the Wolf by Cherise Sinclair

things realy exist, or if I need to be locked up,” she muttered. To settle herself, she put on Leonard Cohen for some moody music, made coffee, started some bread, and set the dough to rise.
    Inventiveness at an end, she walked a circle around the place— cabin fever, anyone ?—and noticed the blue curtains at the front of the cabin glowed. She peeked through them.
    at the front of the cabin glowed. She peeked through them.
    The light came from the ful moon. Wel, duh, no wonder she was twitchy. She always got restless and achy at ful moons.
    Like her friends with PMS—something else she’d never experienced.
    PMS. Criminy, I almost forgot . She went into the bathroom to rummage through her toiletries bag. Dang dang dang. No birth control packets remained, and she’d taken the last pil yesterday. Her mail order pharmacy would have already shipped her next three months, so the box probably sat in her apartment mailbox. By the time she could get it forwarded here, her cycle would be al screwed up.
    She might as wel go off the pils for a month, then restart them in Seattle with her next period. Not even dawn, and the day was going downhil.
    After puling on her jacket, she stepped onto the porch and let the frigid air shock the temper out of her. Leaning against the rough porch post, she stretched her throbbing leg and looked around at the night.
    The huge, golden moon hung over the western mountains, and the light was so heavy it seemed to reverberate in her bones. Around her, the forest talked to itself—bare branches creaking, a gurgle from the unfrozen center of the creek, the rustle of animals. That skittering sound in the dry brush—
    what would that be?
    A smal chittering made her look up in time to see a tiny body disappear into a tree trunk hole. Guess she’d made body disappear into a tree trunk hole. Guess she’d made enough noise to wake up a fairy. Could her parents see them? God, she had to figure out who she was and where she came from.
    At least her first goal was on its way to being accomplished. She’d bought a pistol. And she’d found an instructor. One that scared her to death, with his Vin Diesel, I-prefer-to-slaughter-people-rather-than-talk-to-them attitude. But slaughter was exactly what she needed to learn.
    And quickly too.
    In three weeks, she’d have to return to Seattle and pack up her apartment. What if the monster found her again? “ I’ll be back for another taste , ” it had whispered before she passed out. She swalowed against the urge to vomit. Pushed away the need to shower and scrub and scrub and scrub.
    Slow breaths. Feel the clean air. Watch the beautiful moon slide behind the mountains .
    As her stomach settled, she heard voices. A woman’s laughter. Bree glanced down the narrow road to her left. The lodge was dark and quiet. Maybe she was hearing people at the tavern? As the crow flew, it would be about a block or so away, and she’d noticed how clearly sound carried in the quiet mountains. But weren’t bars supposed to close at two a.m.?
    Sounded like fun though. She sat down on the single porch step and listened. Men and women caling goodbyes, car step and listened. Men and women caling goodbyes, car doors slamming. She’d missed the sound of people. After being surrounded in a busy restaurant every day, she found the cabin awfuly lonely.
    The faint crunch of boots on snow made Bree stiffen.
    Zeb and Shay walked down the road, two huge men who moved as gracefuly as animals. They realy were gorgeous.
    Ashley would have flirted herself sily with Shay. Bree sighed, feeling very alone. I miss you, Ash .
    At the lodge, Zeb lifted his head as if he were sniffing the air and said something. Shay looked toward her. As his partner went into the lodge, Shay headed toward Bree’s cabin.
    A shiver of nervousness ran up her spine, and she rose.
    Suddenly, the night seemed far too empty, and she had the urge to run inside and lock the door.
    His gait silent in the wet dirt, he