Wolf Of The Future

By A.D. McLain

Mara is a werewolf. Powerful. Beautiful. Alone.

Billy never knew about the paranormal world that existed right in front of his eyes. All he knew was his feelings for this strange woman he couldn't get out of his head.

With an ancient betrayal weighing on her conscience and an old friend who wants her dead, no one she cares about is safe. Mara must face the past she tried to forget, and open her heart to the love she never dared to hope for.

But does she have what it takes to set things right?

This book contains adult content and is not recommended for readers under the age of 18.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Next Chapter
• Release date: Dec 22, 2021
• ISBN: 4867477958

A.D. McLain

- O que você quer ser quando crescer?                 Quando eu era pequena, respondi que queria ser atriz, escritora, artista, astronauta, cantora, design de moda e algumas outras profissões. Os adultos sorriam com a minha resposta e diziam que eu ainda não tinha me decidido, mas eu dizia que queria ser todas elas.             Nunca entendi a ideia de se limitar a uma coisa só. A vida é tão grande. Há espaço para muitas aventuras.             Conforme eu crescia, continuei a desenhar. Escrevi e cantei músicas em shows de talentos. Fiz desenhos de roupas e até costurei algumas. Costurei à mão o meu próprio vestido de noiva. Estudei design digital e aprendi a fazer alguns trabalhos básicos em programas de fotografia. Se você perguntar aos meus amigos, eles dirão que estou sempre pulando de um projeto maluco para outro.             Inúmeras vezes me disseram que o que eu estava fazendo era muito difícil porque eu não sabia o suficiente, e que nunca conseguiria. E toda vez em que mergulhei de cabeça no que quer que minha paixão estivesse me levando, eu tinha uma fé quase inabalável de que eu poderia fazer qualquer coisa que eu me propusesse. As pessoas sempre querem dizer o que você não pode fazer. Todos nós somos capazes de coisas incríveis quando temos fé e acreditamos em nós mesmos. Você pode não ter sucesso em tudo o que faz, mas nunca terá sucesso em algo que nunca tentou.             Apesar da minha vasta gama de interesses diferentes, há muito tempo que escrever ocupa um lugar especial em minha alma. Quando eu tinha 12 anos passei um verão inteiro escrevendo uma história. Muitas vezes já comecei projetos sem terminá-los, mas isso era diferente. Eu escrevia todos os dias. Escrevia no carro, no meu quarto e na lavanderia. Escrevi tanto que quando as férias estavam chegando ao fim, minha história já estava pronta. E naquele momento eu soube que essa era a minha v

Book preview

PREFACE

Werewolves are real. That is the first thing you need to know. They don't age after reaching adulthood, they heal quickly, and they don't get sick. But they can be killed. Members of the Kind live everywhere, part of society, hidden in all professions. They don’t turn during the full moon or go around killing innocents at night. Well, at least most don't. Not since the founding of the Werewolf Council centuries ago.

Werewolves can be made or born. All wolves share a telepathic ability to communicate. Natural borns are usually more powerful, many exhibiting miraculous abilities such as healing and telekinesis, and there is one bloodline that far surpasses most others in nearly every way. An old line, tracing its lineage back over a thousand years, it was torn apart by the jealousy and rivalry of two brothers, Richard and Artemis. Artemis attacked Richard and his family on their private plane, causing it to crash. Richard’s three year old daughter, Nicole, was recovered and hidden in a human foster family. Richard and his wife, Caroline, were never found.

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Nicole grew up ignorant of her past. The wolf inside her remained dormant, unneeded and her abilities uncultivated. She became friends with another young orphan, Meghan, and the two grew close, bonded together by childhood tragedies. Then, tragedy struck again. Nicole’s adoptive parents died in a car accident that was no accident. David Coverton and Mark Stevenson, close friends of Nicole’s father Richard, came forward to protect her. But David never expected that he would develop romantic feelings for Nicole along the way. And Nicole never expected the wolf spirit she discovered living inside her, awoken by her need for protection and exposure to others of the Kind. After coming to terms with her own changes and her past, she faced her adoptive parents' killer and then her uncle, after learning of his role in her birth parents' deaths. Artemis was taken away by the Council, and they all settled in to their new lives.

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But the story didn’t end there. A mysterious stranger by the name of Durante, who’d been working behind the scenes and manipulated Artemis into attacking his brother, wasn’t done with the family. He released Artemis from the Council and turned his attention to Meghan, revealing she was Artemis’ daughter and Nicole’s cousin. As a serial killer threatened their small town, attacking one friend and abducting another. Meghan and Mark fought against Durant’s influence. The dark man, who never reveals his true form to anyone and is a master of manipulation. He can hide his appearance and twist people's minds to his liking.

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Eventually, Meghan's friendship with Nicole and her feelings for Mark are enough to help her break the manipulation of Durante. Their friend Susan was rescued from her captor, learning of their shape-shifting secret in the process, and their other friend, Katie, was left to recover from her injuries in the hospital, where Durante learned she wasn’t a normal human. Unlike all other humans and werewolves, Katie possesses the ability to see through his illusions. Unknown to all her friends, she knows what they are.

And so that leaves Mara. Ancient and mysterious, few know much about her. She has always been a friend to Nicole's family, and helps whenever she can. More powerful than others of the Kind, she can avoid detection from the Council and can mimic nearly any ability she sees others use. Despite her powers, even she cannot identify Durante. She keeps herself isolated most of the time, bothered by frequent contact with people, and became unnerved when Meghan started to experience visions regarding Mara's past. A deeply private woman, she was surprised to find herself developing feelings for Nicole's adoptive brother, Billy. Just when she’s considering closing her store and moving on to a fresh start, Billy returned to Smithsdale and changes all of her plans.

PROLOGUE

The battle was fierce, blood and the dying strewn about. Tears fell down her cheeks but she didn’t try to wipe them away. Across the expansive mead hall, Dante – the man they called a monster – fought for survival, for vengeance, for anger. She yelled for him to stop, but it did little good and only aroused suspicious glances from those nearby. He paid her no mind, lost in the blood lust. She watched in horror as he realized her betrayal, his eyes meeting hers for one heart wrenching moment before cold metal met his flesh. Unable to look away, she could only watch as he barely managed to escape with his life, a trail of blood and a severed limb all he left behind. The men cheered. She cried.

Mara woke, the tears and pain from her dream still with her. She felt as desolate now as she had on that night so many years ago. Clutching the sheets, she surveyed her sparsely decorated bedroom. All was quiet, yet she could still hear ther screams of the dying. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Mara’s feet rested on the floor, but she didn’t stand. Her legs were rubbery and her stomach lurched, sending a wave of nausea through her limbs. Despite these discomforts, her mind very much remained in the dream and the events which took place and culminated in that terrible night.

At the time, she’d thought there was no choice but to betray Dante. He wouldn’t be reasoned with, and lives were at stake. Although it had been a painful decision, the choice had seemed clear. Now, she wasn’t so certain. What if there had been another way? She’d thought anything was worth saving those lives, but if there was one thing she’d learned over the course of her long life, it was that the ends didn’t always justify the means. She couldn’t accomplish good by doing evil, not without taking that evil into herself. She couldn’t come away clean and guilt free. But he had been a killer, she reminded herself.

At the time though, few weren't. It wasn't like modern times, people hadn’t sought justice through the law, but through the sword. Vengeance had been common and encouraged, respected even. In fact, more people would have understood and supported Dante’s motives more so than hers. In many cases, betrayal was the bigger crime. If she had done it to protect her child or a parent, it would be different, but those people had been of no blood relation to her. Conventional wisdom would have been to leave and let him fulfill his deadly agenda.

And there was the method of her betrayal. She hadn’t met him equally on the field of battle, challenging him through combat to drive home her point. She’d cowered like the woman she was, too afraid to be the hand which took his life. That would at least have been honorable. No, she’d passed that gruesome task on to the first able-bodied warrior who would accept it. If she’d truly believed herself to be a protector to those people, fulfilling the will of the Goddess by taking his life and ending the attacks, she should have completed the deed herself.

Mara stood and walked across to the dresser, pulling on her robe. She stalked through the apartment, searching for something to distract her restless mind. She was too wound up to go back to sleep, and she didn’t feel like going outside and enjoying the open sky and empty forests of the countryside. If she had a confidante, she would call them, but there was no one she confided to nowadays. In all honesty, there never had been. Turning on the computer, she waited for it to boot up and settled back in the chair, her mind returning to the dream.

She’d wondered why she would dream of these things now, but the answer was clear. Meghan's visions had been the catalyst for bringing Mara’s thoughts back to her past. The girl – innocent and new to her powers – was somehow important in all of this. She didn’t seek out knowledge of Mara or her past, and yet the visions came, revealing secrets Mara had tried hard to keep. The real question was why this child had been gifted with this knowledge. Why would the Goddess choose to reveal these things to Meghan in the first place? Could it be a warning that Mara should retreat into the shadows again? She’d become complacent, developing friendships and affections for people. Maybe over a thousand years of solitude hadn’t been enough penance.

Honestly, she’d tried to stay away from everyone, but somehow, she couldn’t rid herself of an attachment to Meghan and Nicole's family. They were only the most recent generation in a family line Mara held great regard for. Centuries earlier, she’d met their grandfather, Ari, while he was organizing the Council to monitor and police dangerous werewolves and reduce the risk of exposure for the Kind, as they called themselves. Ari had taken an instant liking to Mara, welcoming her into his family with open arms. But their friendship had created difficulties between Ari and some of the other council members, who didn’t much care for Mara. So she’d left, traveling the world until fate once again brought her into contact with Ari’s family. She’d crossed paths with Richard, Ari’s youngest son, and once again found herself welcomed into their inner circle.

She’d always held herself back, never letting go of her restraint completely. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to leave their company a second time. Ari died in some war, and his wife gave into her grief shortly afterwards, but Richard had continued to make Mara feel welcome. Eventually, he started his own family; marrying his wife, Caroline, and they had a daughter, Nicole.

Now, even Richard was gone and all that was left was Meghan and Nicole. Mara quickly discovered she felt surprisingly maternal towards the two girls. Nicole was married and expecting her first child, and Meghan was in a serious relationship, but both were new to their powers, in need of guidance and nurturing, and lacking parental figures in their lives. Mara had been drawn to them, just as she had always been drawn to members of their bloodline, and she couldn’t seem to resist the urge to remain nearby.

And now there was Billy Cameron, son of the couple who’d cared for Nicole after Richard’s death. Billy was a college professor, who she’d met at Nicole and David’s wedding a year earlier, and she’d often thought of him since. He was a distraction, but not an unbearable one until recently. Just as she’d considered leaving town for a few decades, Billy had decided to move back into town, complicating everything. The simple truth was she didn’t want to leave now. She looked forward to seeing Billy again and she enjoyed spending time with him. It was all a very bad idea, however. She might allow herself a few friendships, but anything more serious than that was out of the question. It must be why the memories were coming back to her now; to remind her of what must be done. Love wasn’t a luxury she could afford and she needed to remember that.

The computer completed its start-up process, and she logged onto her favorite game. It was an online one, played by people all over the world. It gave Mara the rare opportunity to interact with people, without needing to reveal herself. She checked her friend log and saw a blinking green icon beside the Yellowed Wood name and avatar picture.

A grin played at her lips and she clicked on the name and waited for him to accept her invitation to join up. Following the prompts on the map, she moved her character over to his location and started the mission.

‘Up early?’ The yellow text appeared in the chat window.

‘Couldn't sleep’, she replied. The response popped up beside her character's name, ‘Alarice Nightwatch’. ‘And you?’

‘Roommate out on late date. House too quiet to sleep.’

‘This time of night, I'd say it was an overnight date,’ she responded, having learned several gaming sessions before that they were in the same time zone. Convenient, because it made getting online to play with him much easier.

‘Yeah, I keep telling her they should move in together, but then I guess I’d never sleep again.’

‘True. How did the problem with your work go?’ She typed in between blasting a bad guy off Yellowed Wood’s back and hitting a button to enter the next level of the building.

‘lks/lr jqrpol’ popped up in the chat box, followed quickly by, ‘Sorry, sandwich fell on keyboard.’

‘You're eating at this hour?’ she teased.

‘Roommate,’ he offered, throwing a healing spell on her character and putting up a protection field from energy attacks around them both. ‘She was in such a hurry to leave, she left it sitting out. Can't let food go to waste. :)’

Mara smiled, the battle growing too intense to keep up the conversation for a while. She lost track of all time until sunlight started shining through her window.

‘Another mish?’ he asked, killing the final opponent on the board.

Mara glanced over at the window and begrudgingly admitted she couldn’t keep playing. ‘Sorry, I have to go.’

‘No problem,’ he typed. ‘Tonight?’

Mara watched the cursor blink and thought over how to answer. ‘Roommate have another date?’ she quipped, buying herself time to respond.

‘Lol, probably, but I'll be on either way. Look me up if you log on,’ he offered, letting the question drop. It was one of the main reasons she loved playing with him; he always knew somehow, when to back off when she was feeling pressured.

‘Will do,’ she promised before logging out.

Going back to the bedroom, she changed into something more street-appropriate and headed out. It was nearly time for the shift change at the hospital, so she needed to hurry. She started to run, then reconsidered. Taking a moment to hide her presence from anyone who might be out at this time of the morning, she shifted to the hospital.

Shifting was a new ability she’d acquired, thanks completely to Nicole and Meghan. Nicole had discovered the ability to shift, or teleport people from one location to another when Meghan had been missing, held by Artemis and the dark one. Thus far, Nicole had been unable to replicate the feat, but her description of how she’d achieved it had been enough to allow Mara to learn. After a couple of attempts, she now found the ability quite easy.

Mara continued to conceal her presence until the elevator door opened onto the Labor and Delivery ward, where the nurses on duty smiled and waved as she passed. They knew Mara well, understood her need for space and privacy. She walked up to the N.I.C.U. department and pressed the button, waiting to be buzzed in. Once inside she went straight to the sinks and washed her hands and arms thoroughly, before donning a hospital gown over her clothes.

Good morning, Mara, April, the head nurse said. The Calley baby had a rough night, so you may want to start there, she offered, turning back to her charts.

Mara walked over to the fussy baby the nurse indicated and ran a finger affectionately over her soft skin. Pulling up a chair, she put down the side of the bed and picked up the little four-pound darling, careful not to pull on any lines or monitors. The baby gurgled and snuggled into Mara's arms, calming instantly. Mara hummed, rocking back and forth in the chair, devoting all of her attention and love on this one little baby.

N.I.C.U. babies didn't always receive the amount of attention and holding they needed to grow and heal from treatments, surgeries and other complications of early births. Overburdened nurses were often forced to concentrate only on their medical needs, spending more time with sicker babies. As for the parents, some were good, some weren't, but even the most loving parents couldn't always spend a great deal of time at the hospital. Many early babies spent weeks or even months in the N.I.C.U. before being discharged. Maternity leave only lasted six to eight weeks for the mothers, and the father's rarely got off more than a week or even a couple of days. Not to mention, some families had to save time to take off for when their baby actually did come home. Once you add hours of work, commutes, the times no one was allowed in during shift changes and the need to actually get some sleep before starting it all over again, many parents were lucky to see their babies for even a couple of hours a day. And with some babies on feeding tubes, that hour or two their parent were there may be the only time they were actually held the entire day.

Consequently, Mara volunteered her time, coming to the hospital several days a week to sit with the babies. It was the one place she could let her guard down. She’d been coming here for over thirty years, and while some of the older nurses were aware of that fact, no one ever asked questions. They thought of her as some sort of guardian angel, not concerned that she didn't age. Thankfully, they also respected her desire for privacy and didn't engage in frequent conversation.

And the babies were perfect, their needs simple. They wanted to be held, loved, fed and changed. Give them that and they were happy and Mara could happily sit and hold them for hours. Sometimes she spent entire days rotating between them, only leaving early if the number of visiting parents was high..

Mara did everything she could. She let their tiny hands wrap around her fingers, fed them bottles and changed their diapers, sang songs and offered them all the love and comfort they could handle.

The nurse brought over a bottle and handed it to Mara. She hasn't taken the last three, but maybe you can coax her to take this one.

Mara nodded and settled in, adjusting her position in the chair and stuffing a pillow beneath her supporting arm. The baby latched on right away, sucking like a pro. Her hands came down to rest on the bottle, and her eyes popped open, watching Mara while she ate. The nurse watched for a moment with a smile on her face before moving on to the next patient.

Across the room the chaplain was making his rounds. He was an older man, mostly bald with little tufts of silver hair. His body appeared frail, but his spirit was strong. He came to visit and pray over the babies every morning, just before he left for home. Despite his age, he insisted on taking the night shift at the hospital, making himself available to anyone who needed prayer or comfort. He was a quietly spoken man, but always offered a warm smile. As with the nurses, he’d known Mara throughout her years of sitting with the babies, and he too refrained from asking questions regarding her past or lack of aging. Quietly, he approached Mara’s chair and smiled down at the little one in her arms. May I? he asked.

She smiled at him. Of course.

The chaplain lowered his head and placed one hand lightly on the baby's forehead. Closing his eyes, he spoke a prayer. Mara felt his energy surge and extend to the child, filling her with love and good will. Mara smiled at him again before he straightened and walked to the next baby. Mara burped the little one in her arms then adjusted her hold, breathing in deeply as the gentle baby contentedly curled her fingers around Mara’s shirt and drifted off to sleep.

Durante rubbed his arm, the phantom pain of the old injury distracting him. His arm had long since healed, but every hundred years of so, he experienced the pain again, almost as intensely as that night. It had taken centuries for the arm to grow back, a very painful process, as flesh, bones and nerves re-grew, replacing the arm he’d lost. He’d hardly believed it was happening at first, having accepted the loss as permanent, but in time he couldn’t ignore the changes. Even without the arm, he’d been a formidable opponent – with its return, he was unstoppable. There wasn’t a mortal or werewolf alive who could pose any real threat to him, save one. Whoever held the pendant could still harm him, because something about the pendant enhanced the abilities of the wearer. He’d sensed it the first time he’d seen her wearing it. She was different, stronger, with an air of power about her. Even her scent had changed.

She’d asked him again to stop his attacks on her people – she could be so naïve. They hated her, nearly as much as they feared him. He’d heard the things they said about her when she wasn’t around. While they should have referred to her in respectful, deferential tones, calling her ‘Queen’ or ‘Highness’, they instead called her ‘Foreigner’, their derision apparent." She’d been an outsider before she’d been married to their king. Her beliefs and customs varied greatly from their own, and they resented her position and power. She’d known this and still she defended them, insisting they had redeemable qualities, insisting they were good people. Durante sneered. She’d thought he was a good person, too. He had no such delusions – he knew what he was. He ignored her pleas.

The king had welcomed a new group of warriors shortly thereafter who’d heard of Durante’s attacks and come to kill him. They weren’t the first. From the beginning of the battle, Durante had known the leader of the group was different to those he’d faced before, a man who possessed inhuman strength, speed and agility. During the fight, his tunic had shifted with a thrust from his sword and Durante discovered the source of his abilities – her pendant hung from his neck. She couldn’t bring herself to kill him, so she’d given her magical pendant to someone who could.

Durante found her eyes across the room moments before the warrior’s blade bit into his shoulder. Searing pain shot through his nerve endings and instinct kicked in where thought failed him.

He found himself alone and bloody in his cave howling in outrage and pain for hours. He’d known she possessed a misguided loyalty toward the villagers, but he’d never suspected she would go this far. How could she choose those close-minded fools over him? They’d murdered his mother, they deserved to die. It was his right to take vengeance on them. It didn’t matter that not everyone was directly guilty – they were all guilty by association. Before their unprovoked attack on his mother, when they’d caught her unawares at the lake and taken her head as a prize, he’d been content to avoid them.

But she’d argued only the men involved in the attack were to blame. The others were innocent.

No one was innocent. Not even her.

Durante took a deep breath and flexed his hands, punching the wall with his once-missing arm. Brick crumbled into dust on the floor. It helped to calm his thoughts and brought him back to the present. All the centuries of waiting would soon come to an end, and he would make Mara pay for her betrayal.

And may her goddess have mercy on anyone unfortunate enough to get in his way.

He heard a moan and turned back to the basement cell. Two limp forms, secured by chains, rested against the wall. They would be waking soon, his sleep suggestion could only last so long. In the next day or so, they would wake from their long, hibernating sleep. It was both a mercy and a self-serving motivation to keep them asleep as much as possible. He held no direct hatred toward them, they were merely a means to an end. They served his purposes just as well asleep as they would awake, and this way, they were much less trouble to care for.

He could sense when the suggestion was wearing off. Occasionally, one or both of them would rouse briefly for food and water, only to fall asleep again a day or two later. In all, they had both only woken for a handful of days since he’d brought them here. Their werewolf natures kept them in good health, despite the long captivity. He had noticed, however, that they grew much more restless as their daughter grew more powerful. With Artemis gone, perhaps their usefulness was at an end. Honestly, he grew tired of this entire game. It had been fun at first, but now he was bored again. Maybe it was time to stop hiding and reveal to her that he was still alive. What good was revenge, if she didn't know its source?

Durante shook his head and headed upstairs, entering his room. He brushed his fingers over the mass of unruly hair on his chin and head, trying to remember the last time he’d bothered to look at himself. There wasn't a mirror to be found throughout the house, a personal choice, and in public he never made himself visible to others, so it hadn’t mattered what he looked like. There was a metal tray on the bathroom counter which held toiletries, and he used it to try and get a look at himself. Distorted and dark, the image reflected at him was hardly helpful. He put the tray down and wondered what that girl, Katie, had seen?

He hadn’t thought much of her at first. She’d been the victim of an attack and near to death. But she’d kept fighting. Unlike so many other humans he’d met and watched over the centuries, she’d kept fighting, even when her body tried to give up on her. It was that determination which had led to him helping her. He respected strength – that was all it was. Her efforts had earned her a chance to live. What he’d never expected was her ability to see him. For some reason, she could see through his illusions as no one else could, and she wasn’t afraid of him. How strange it had been, to finally be seen. Still, all she’d seen was this one form, he had another form, terrifying and feral. Even she would be unnerved if confronted by that