The sun was beginning to set over the trees, and it wouldn't be long until the rise of the full moon. I hurried to Brandon's. I needed to see him face-to-face - and see which features stared back at me, those of a handsome guy or those of a wolf.
I found him in the backyard stacking wood into a pile alongside a small shed.
This time Brandon wasn't pleased by my presence.
"What are you doing here?" he asked. "I told you I couldn't see you. Especially tonight."
"I wanted to be near you, just like the wolves did when they came to see you at school," I confessed.
"You have to leave, Celeste." He backed away, but I followed.
"I'm not going," I said.
He picked up a few pieces of wood that had tumbled from the pile. "You have to - it's the only way."
"Then you will have to carry me off," I said, finally facing him. "And I'm much heavier than that pile of wood."
He returned the logs into the pile and stared off at the setting sun. "Celeste, what is happening to me?" he asked.
His pain and torment were palpable. I would have taken it all away if I could. I hugged him and he caved in on me.
"I don't know, Brandon. It seems odd, mystical, paranormal. Or maybe it's nothing at all. Maybe it's all coincidence."
"But I never felt anything like this before... until that day when I heard you calling in the woods. And then I was never the same."
"It was a full moon, then. I knew it was my fault."
"It's not - "
I'd experienced Brandon Maddox through my five senses. One, I first saw Brandon in class that day that he transferred. Two, I heard him speak when Ivy and Abby confronted him. Three, we touched that day he saved me in the woods. Four, his scent still lingered on his shirt that I kept on my nightstand. Five, I had tasted his lips against mine. But there was one more sense I was desperate to witness; I needed to confirm my suspicions through the sixth sense - the paranormal.
"I'm not leaving," I said.
"You have to go - I don't know how I'll be - or what I'll be."
I held on to him with all my strength. "It's okay."
I wanted to see for sure if what we'd experienced under the last full moon was coincidence or could be explained away by another reason - one other than legends, folklore, or predictions.
The full moon shone down upon us as Brandon enveloped me in his arms and kissed me. He was so passionate and intense, I was afraid I was going to be the one who would have to throw off my coat this time.
Brandon was kissing my neck when he suddenly broke away.
"What is it?" I asked.
"I'm burning up. Like the sun is lighting me on fire - only there's no sun."
"Just the moon..." I barely managed to say.
"You must leave. Now!"
I had Brandon's shirt at home, so I knew last month's episode wasn't a dream. But that didn't mean I'd seen what I thought I'd seen. Tonight, I wouldn't let Brandon out of my sight. I had to see the transformation for myself.
Brandon's blue eyes turned intensely gray. He covered them and retreated. He went into the woods, using trees to block my view. He was desperate for me not to see him, but I followed him anyway. I ran past trees and jumped over fallen branches and trudged through snow. By the time I caught up to him, his hair was savagely long and lush. His face sported that sexy goatee I'd seen before, and his well-muscled arms and chest were covered with a thin layer of hair. He let out a howl.
Like last time, I backed away. My instincts told me to run for my life.
But there was something drawing me to Brandon, to this strange and powerful figure, something more than just his magnetic muscles and chiseled abs. It was his soul.
Even so, I was scared. For him and for me.
He breathed heavily. His chest heaved; his ribs were like those of a lean animal. His stare was hypnotic; I could barely stand in his presence. I wondered if, like Juliette said, he'd carry me off into the woods. Part of me wanted to escape; the other yearned to find out what might happen if I stayed - if I could help him, since this was all my fault.
I debated running, attempting to leave the uncertainty of woods on the hilltop for the safety of my home - a simple place where werewolves were on TV or were the subjects of students' essays. However, I knew it would be impossible to outrun Brandon. In this lycan form he was powerful, perhaps invincible, and, to me, deadly attractive and soulful.
But Brandon appeared frightened about what he was capable of doing. He began to retreat. I sensed his turmoil. I wanted to stay, but he wanted me to go.
I shook my head and didn't move. If he had wanted to kill me, he would have tried to already. I was safe with him for now. I extended my hand to him. I tried my best to remain calm, but my shaking revealed my fear.
Brandon's brow furrowed and his piercing fangs were shining. His gray gaze bore through me.
I took a deep breath and focused on my task.
"It's okay," I said, my voice quavering. "I want to help you."
"You can't be near me like this." His voice was low and seductive.
Brandon was more alone than I'd ever seen him before - more alone than he'd been as a new student walking the halls of a cliquey school, more than a misunderstood outsider quietly eating his lunch in solitude, more than a guy living in a small guesthouse behind his grandparents' home, with his father a continent away.
I inched forward. Brandon didn't attack me. He didn't run away, either.
I took his hand, which was sporting masculine brown hair.
When we touched it was as if I could know his soul. Feelings of love, fear, loneliness, and euphoria raced through me as if we were one. I stared up at him. I was attracted to his spirit as much as to his shirtless body. By touching him, everything I thought I sensed about his feelings from across the hallway, lunchroom, or class I now felt as well, magnified a thousand times.
Then my fingers grazed his palm and the raised scar from his wolf bite. It was bright red, as if the moonlight had branded its radiance into his skin.
I placed his hand to my heart. I wanted to let him know I was here for him, like he'd been there for me.
"A wolf bit you under a full moon," I said. "I guess the Legend's Run Werewolf folklore is true. If you hadn't saved me, then this wouldn't have happened to you. And then the kiss - it was under a full moon as well. Dr. Meadows warned me..." I was filled with remorse and guilt at being the one who had caused his condition. If I had heeded Dr. Meadows's warning, Brandon would have been like any other student going to school. Instead, he was a werewolf. A tear leaked and drizzled down my cheek.
"There has to be more to... whatever this is," he reassured me. "It's not your fault."
I adored Brandon's strength, not only physical but moral.
I reached for his face. Gingerly, I touched his goatee and stubble. He melted into my tender caress as if he'd been yearning for this touch for a lifetime.
He smelled delightfully woodsy, like burning leaves mixed with frosting snow.
He grazed the tips of his fangs along the tips of my fingers. Chills danced from them straight to my pounding heart. I felt completely spellbound, as though by being together - whether in this form or his daylight one - I felt complete. Brandon wasn't alone, and neither was I.
"Please don't go," I said. "Not yet."
There was one more thing I longed for. I felt a pull to Brandon more than ever before. If only I could get close enough to him to feel his lips against mine. By day Brandon was handsome, and by moonlight he was stunningly gorgeous and irresistible. Whatever coursed through his veins to make him a werewolf also made him unbelievably magnetic.
Brandon perked up as if he had heard something in the distance. Then I, too, heard the cry of a wolf.
Brandon lurched away. He shook his head, his long hair flowing wildly, and held me at bay. I wasn't ready for our time together to end.
Before I knew it, I was standing in the woods alone.
His woodsy scent still lingered in the air, and my skin still danced from his touch.
But I knew now that it was true. I'd fallen in love with a werewolf.