A/N: While researching for this story, I found out that Pititchu is Quileute for moon. I thought it was a good name.
I sat with my cousins, listening to Grandfather tell us about Taha Aki, our Spirit Chief, and how he had shared the body of a wolf after Utlapa stole his body. The tale was riveting. I'd seen the wolf-men, his sons, and admired them, but Taha Aki himself tended to pitch his tent at the edge of the village, away from others. Grandfather explained that Taha Aki had guarded his solitude since the passing of his second wife. That had been many years ago, before I was born. It was so strange, living with a legend — the last Spirit Warrior.
Grandfather told the tale vividly, describing Taha Aki drifting bodiless, torn by the other spirits that shared the realm with him, never finding a place of safety or rest as he watched the terrible deeds done in his name. I imagined being free of my body, free to soar on the wind with the eagles and ravens. I imagined sharing that special place with Taha Aki, having him guide me in it. It was a child's fantasy — too simple to ever be, but a nice dream.
Grandfather told us about Taha Aki finally finding rest in the wolf's body and trying to explain to his people — our people — that the man wearing his face wasn't him. I felt terrible for him. How hard would that be, trying to speak and never being understood? My youngest brother had a lisp until he was seven, and everyone had trouble understanding him. He'd cry and rage with frustration. What could a wolf do? Howl? I supposed that was right.
The tale continued, and the wolf became a man, the same man that lived just a short way from our fire. Grandfather told us about Taha Aki's sons, men we knew, who could turn into wolves at will. Not all of them did, but those who chose to stopped aging, like their father.
"I'm going to Taha Aki's fire tonight," my cousin, Running Buck, told me in a whisper. He was thirteen and very proud to nearly be a man. "Are you going to come?"
"Why?" I whispered back. "Were you invited?"
He rolled his eyes at me. "Of course not. I want to see him. Are you coming?" he asked again.
"Yes." My answer was emphatic. We would probably be in trouble if we were caught. Taha Aki didn't appreciate being bothered with less than the tribe's direst needs, preferring we deal with our own affairs. Grandfather had said that he felt he was too old to be relevant, that his ways were old ways and we should find our own. I thought that was silly. So what if he didn't age? That didn't mean he couldn't change, couldn't learn and adapt. But I was just a girl, barely twelve, what did I know? Surely not as much as the Spirit Chief.
So after all our cousins were in their tents, and our parents were asleep — or occupied in the case of mine — we slipped out and made our way silently through the trees toward his tent. He was there, sitting by his fire and smoking his pipe. He looked like any other young man of the tribe, appearing in his twenties. He had long black hair that fell untied and unbraided over his shoulders. The fire-light was reflected in his black eyes, throwing shadows over the angles of his face — all lines and planes. His jacket hung open, showing his hard chest. I thought he was very handsome but would never tell that to anyone. I swallowed, instantly taken by this man who meant so much to our people. Running Buck tugged my arm then, and I backed away with him. If Taha Aki saw or heard us, he gave no sign, and we started hooting and giggling once we were far enough away.
"I thought he'd be taller," Running Buck said when we slowed to a walk. "He looks so... ordinary."
My mouth fell open a little. Ordinary?
"Don't get caught sneaking back in," he told me as he veered off for his tent.
I scoffed. My parents had seen me leave and probably thought I was off to pee. They might have been upset that I was gone for so long, but they were so busy with each other that they might not notice the time. The latter turned out to be the case, and my mother was just curling up on my father's chest, both looking content. I stumbled to my deerskin and slipped under, tucking myself next to my sister. She murmured but drifted back to sleep immediately. I joined her soon after, dreaming of the man who was a legend.
I slipped off to Taha Aki's tent several more times in the following years, unable to resist the chance of seeing him again. My mother noticed my extended absences and rightly assumed I going to see a boy. He wasn't a boy, but the intention was certainly the same.
"Who is he?" she asked with a broad smile when I returned to the tent one night. My father was already snoring, and she wore only the fur draped around her shoulders. Hugging me, she pulled me to sit with her. "Come, you can tell me. Is he handsome?"
"Very," I answered immediately. I blushed and looked away, embarrassed by my feelings for a man who surely wouldn't return them.
"What? Pititchu, you are old enough to have a boy you like. You're sixteen already. You could marry a boy you liked! Has he kissed you?" She continued grinning and occasionally giggling, seeming like just a girl herself.
My eyes went wide, and my mouth fell open. "No!" I said loudly. Too loudly. My youngest brother woke and Mother had to settle him down again. I used the opportunity to slide under my own cover.
"You have to tell me more," she told me as she kissed my forehead. "I'm so happy for you."
I flushed furiously, but my dreams that night followed my mother's thoughts, and Taha Aki did kiss me. I had kissed two boys in the past year, although neither were more than fleeting interests, and I meant just as little to them. I did know a little about kissing, though, and I'd certainly seen and heard my parents enough times to know something about lovemaking. As a result, my dreams that night were entirely too vivid, and my sister had been scandalized when she woke me in the morning.
"You were touching yourself!" she accused.
I blushed and hid under my cover until my mother came to my rescue. "And you've never touched yourself? Shoo, Rabbit. Go on." She waited until all my siblings were gone before hugging me around the shoulders. "You must point him out to me," she said, kissing my temple again. "Take your time. I'll keep them out."
"N-no!" I stuttered, jumping up. "I'm finished." I nearly ran from the tent and my mother.
That night, I didn't come to the tent after dinner. If my mother knew what I was about, why should I continue to be circumspect? I did approach with stealth as I neared his tent again; he didn't need to be disturbed by a lovesick girl. I knew I had to get over this obsession. I should probably try kissing other boys. Surely I'd find one I liked eventually.
His fire drew me, though, and I sat watching him for nearly an hour while he smoked his pipe and watched his fire. As always, I wondered what he thought about, if he ever got lonely. Sometimes his sons came to visit him, but not often. They spent time with their families, with their wives' families — well, the ones who had married within the tribe.
"I know you're out there." The sudden sound of his voice startled me. I broke several twigs, giving myself away. "I'm used to being an occasional interest, but most get bored quickly and leave me alone. You keep coming back. How long has it been? Three weeks? Let me see you."
Deeply embarrassed, and bearing the proof in my cheeks, I stepped toward his fire, my head bowed.
"So, I am to be your nightly entertainment, am I? Surely I'm not that interesting, child."
My head came up in surprise. Not interesting? He was amazing. Of course, he didn't do anything while I watched, but he was... he was Taha Aki! Everything he had done, everything he could do, the things he must think about and remember... my mind reeled, pondering the legends night after night.
His pipe fell to the ground with a wooden clatter. I surged forward to recover it for him.
"Thank you, child. But you aren't a child, are you? How old are you?"
"Sixteen," I told him, averting my eyes, looking my moccasins, instead.
"And who are your parents?"
I drew a small circle with the toe of one foot. "Wading Heron and Jumping Deer." My voice was little more than a whisper. I felt so intimidated by him.
"Relax, and look at me, please."
His tone surprised me. It had been gruff before, when accusing me, but now it was soft. When I managed to look up, I saw his eyes were warmer, too, fixed on mine.
"Please, what is your name?" He reached a hand toward me, and I bent so he could touch my cheek. I closed my eyes and my breath caught. His touch was so warm! It might have been from sitting near the fire, but he felt feverish. My lips parted at this, the barest whisper of my dreams coming true. He touched me. Then he kissed me.
My eyes flew open to see his eyes closed and his brow furrowed. Had I believed it possible, I would have thought he was weeping. I broke the kiss gently, pulling very slightly from him. He was on his knees now so he could reach my face with his own. I dropped quickly to my own knees, allowing him to settle back on his heels. It was only once I was down that I noticed my hand on his knee. I pulled it back as though I had touched fire, and in a way, I had. He was so warm, so dangerous, but so important at the same time.
He snatched my hand in his own. He didn't put it back on his knee but held it, stroking the back of my hand with his thumb. I couldn't take my eyes from his slightly darker skin against mine, the callouses of his thumb stroking my hand.
"Your name?" he asked again, leaning closer to me. Our foreheads touched, and I straightened in shock, breaking the connection again.
"Pi-Pitichu."
He closed his eyes and repeated it back to me. "Pititchu, my maiden of the moon. Only a name so beautiful could suit you."
I bit down on my lip, hard. I had to be dreaming. Had I gone back to my tent after all? Or maybe I'd fallen asleep watching the Chief at his fire. It had happened before.
"Pititchu?" he asked, pulling me from chastising thoughts for letting my dreams get the better of me. "May I meet your parents? I would very much like to speak with them."
"Huh?" I grunted in wonder. "Uh, of course." I smiled, but it felt wrong. Why did he want to meet my parents?
"There is something I would ask of you as well. Will you come back tomorrow night, for dinner? Share my meal?"
No harm in dreaming, I reminded myself. "It would be an honor, Spirit Chief." He stiffened a little, and his thumb stopped moving on my hand.
"Please, call me Taha Aki."
My mouth fell open again and I closed it with a click. "Of course, Taha Aki." The name came out as a whisper, and I felt myself blush again.
"Another request? May I kiss you again, Pititchu?" His other hand came to my cheek, and I leaned my head into it.
"Please," I murmured, my breath rasping again already.
This kiss was very different from the one before. That had been a brief meeting of lips, not unlike my first kisses. This was like my more recent ones. Only instead of bumping my nose and teeth against his, or feeling like I was drowning in the saliva spilling from his mouth to mine — not all my kisses before had been pleasant — I felt Taha Aki's nose brush mine, his lips part mine, and his tongue touch.
I thought I might wake from the bliss of that kiss. It started small and familiar, pecking my lips, drawing them to him; then it deepened. My hands were no longer content being held his, and I plunged my fingers into his hair, twisting in it and pulling him closer to me. The result was my nose crushed to his cheek and me feeling witless.
He chuckled once before wrapping his arms around me and lifting his face from mine very slightly, just enough to initiate another searing kiss that sealed my lips to his.
Believing this another dream, I let myself go, licking his lip only to realize I was as inept at kissing as my previous partners. Taha Aki didn't seem to mind, though, demonstrating his technique by running his tongue along my teeth and the inside of my lip.
I gasped and panted as he continued to kiss me. He pulled me closer and bent me further back, until I was flat on the ground next to his dying fire. I pulled one leg up along the outside of his. He caught it and held it for a moment before stroking his hand from my knee to my ankle, easing it back to the ground.
"Tempting, very tempting, but I'd like to know I'm not overwhelming you. Tomorrow, if you do that again, I won't say no," he promised, growling in my ear and kissing my throat.
"I don't know if I'll dream this well tomorrow."
He stopped kissing me, pulling away entirely. "Dreaming? This isn't a dream, Pititchu. All the more reason to wait." He pulled me to my feet. "Can I walk you to your tent?"
I wasn't dreaming? I shook my head, trying to clear it.
"No? Well..."
"Yes!" I shouted, seizing his arm. "Please!"
He chuckled at my fervor. "Sixteen," he murmured. "Old enough to marry."
I stumbled, and he had to catch me. He held me a few moments longer than necessary to make sure I was steady on my feet. I had never used that trick to get a boy to hold me, but I might try it again along the way. Was he suggesting marrying me?
"I'm not dreaming?" I asked aloud this time, brow furrowing.
"No," he said softly. "You're… something I've never known, Pititchu. You are the wife of my soul."
I didn't understand that at all, but that was probably because I was too giddy thinking of myself as his wife.
Outside my tent, he brushed my hair back, hot fingers brushing my cheek, and I sighed at the gentleness, my lips parting. He joined his lips to mine, holding me tightly as he kissed me wildly. I thought I might faint but somehow managed not to. He pecked me once more before turning to go.
"Sweet dreams, Pititchu."
"Sweet dreams, Taha Aki," I answered, my pulse picking up as I used his name.
I slipped into my tent and made my way to my covers.
"So?" my mother asked.
"I think I might have found a husband," I answered, barely daring to believe it myself.
She let out a small cry of excitement and hugged me tightly to her. "So who is he? When will we meet him?"
"Soon. He wants to talk to you," I told her. "Mother... he is..." I couldn't say it. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth.
She shook her head, understanding my predicament. "Very well. Tomorrow. Or very soon, anyway."
"Yes, very soon," I agreed as I crawled into my bed.
I emerged behind my brothers and sisters the next morning and froze in shock. Taha Aki was talking with my mother over our fire. My siblings didn't recognize him, but I noticed Running Buck where he had stopped dead outside his tent. I trotted toward him, hoping he would help me. He hadn't married yet but had gone on his own dream-quest before the snows came. He would probably marry soon.
"Why is he here?" Running Buck asked as soon as I was close enough to hear him. "Where is Grandfather?" We both bobbed on our toes, expecting to see our grandparents nearby, but neither had risen yet, it seemed. They would recognize Taha Aki as well. They knew him when he took his second wife.
My mother called me then. "Pititchu, come stir this for me." She indicated the pot hanging over the flames. I obeyed, taking her spoon from her, freeing her to speak with the legend among us. It seemed she didn't know who he was, asking where he came from and if he was staying long with the tribe. I bit my lip and tried not to gape.
"Your daughter is lovely. Is she your oldest?" he asked, touching my hair where it fell unbound down my back. I would braid it after breakfast.
"No, third oldest. My son and daughter have both married. She went to the Makah. He is spending time near his wife's family's tent." She gestured toward the tent, passing her gaze where Running Buck stood, still staring. Mother tossed a mollusk shell at him and it bounced off his skull. "What are you gaping at, boy? Go help your mother."
Running Buck puffed up his chest. "I'm a boy no longer, Aunt," he reminded her, but he did move toward his family's fire.
"He is right. Just as your daughter is no girl."
"True, though it makes me feel old to think it." Mother's cooler hand replaced Taha Aki's, stroking my hair.
"Has she told you she was at my fire last night?"
I bit my lip harder and tried not to look at my mother. Curiosity got the better of me, and I peeked out of the corner of my eye to see her response. She was grinning down at me.
"No!" she exclaimed in surprise and statlement. "She hadn't. I knew she was meeting someone, but I had thought it was one of the young men of the tribe. I had no idea it was... you." She finished finally looking at him again. Her eyes narrowed slightly. "How long have you been camped with us?"
I wanted to save my mother more embarrassment. "Mother, that's Taha Aki," I whispered under my breath.
My mother's mouth fell open in an expression I was sure mirrored mine when I was surprised. I almost expected insects to fly right in, though I'd never noticed any fly into mine.
She folded her hands on her chest in deference. "It is an honor to meet you, Spirit Chief," she murmured. At that, all my siblings and cousins flooded in around us.
"Are you really Taha Aki?" one of the younger ones asked.
"Can you really turn into a wolf?"
"How many wives did you have?"
"Stop!" I left the spoon in the pot to clap my hands. All the children recognized the gesture and snapped themselves up. "This is our Spirit Chief. Do not bombard him like one of your uncles! Go and play or sit and listen, but do not interrupt."
"Yes, Pititchu," several children whispered as they sat on the ground near the fire. The youngest ones stood there for a moment or two but were quickly bored and ran off to play.
"I apologize, Spirit Chief." I noticed his mouth turn very slightly down. "Taha Aki," I corrected myself, though I flushed to use his name. When I turned back, I was met with his warm smile. It was remarkable how the lines of his face changed when he smiled, turning from a man of stone to one of flesh. My eyes widened at the images arising from the thought 'man of flesh', and I stared back into the pot, stirring our breakfast nearly fast enough to make it slop.
"It is fine. I understand curiosity. Perhaps they will treat me as an uncle one day."
There was sizzling and a pop as I did slop the mash over the side of the pot.
"Careful, Pititchu. Here, give me that and visit with our Chief. After all, I think you are the one he came to see," Mother said with a grin, pressing her forehead to mine and rubbing my nose with her own. "I'm so proud of you," she whispered low enough for only me to hear.
I giggled like the girl I was. Could I have found a more honorable husband? Certainly not!
Leaving the spoon in the pot, I stepped aside and toward Taha Aki. "You really want to marry me?" I asked in disbelief. My cousins and siblings gasped and gaped.
"He wants to marry her? But she's just a girl."
"She's just a sister," my youngest brother said with derision, making me roll my eyes and look at him before making a face. He laughed at it, as he usually did, and kept quiet after that.
I heard another deeper laugh and whipped my head back to see Taha Aki, chuckling. "I hope you never give me that face."
That made me laugh, too, and laughing settled the last of my nerves. "Have you met my father?" I asked with my new-found boldness.
"No, will you show me to him?" Taha Aki asked. I took his hand, leading him to the set of fallen logs where my father and uncles sat. My grandfather was just hobbling up to join them. He paused when he saw us, staring at Taha Aki.
"No, can't be. My eyes have gotten worse," he muttered.
I went to help my Grandfather arrange his skins to cover his constantly cold bones. "Who do you think he is?" I asked quietly.
"He looks the way I remember Taha Aki."
I hugged him around the neck. "He is Taha Aki, Grandfather, and he wants to marry me," I told him, unable to hold back my excitement.
I thought I'd kept my voice low enough for just my grandfather to hear, but there was a clatter of wooden pipes falling from my father and uncles' fingers.
My father rose to his feet unsteadily. "You want to marry my daughter?" he asked in disbelief and awe.
"If you would allow," Taha Aki said formally, bowing his head slightly to my father, looking every bit a young man seeking a father's blessing.
"Allow it?" my father nearly roared in surprise. "Come here girl and let me hug you." I ran to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. "I knew you were something special, but I never imagined..."
"Special?" I whispered. He'd never told me I was special.
"Why do you think you weren't named after an animal like your brothers and sisters? Your mother stayed in the woods until nearly dawn the night after you were born, and the only thing that could hold her eye was the moon. I knew then you were different from the others."
Taha Aki stepped closer. "She is special. More than any of my other wives, and I loved each very much."
Pulling a little from my father's hug, I turned back to Taha Aki. Lifting my hand, he took it, helping me step over the logs.
"I would rather not spend another night without Pititchu at my side," he said, his low voice making my nerves tingle and my knees shake a little. Did he mean... tonight?
"I understand. Once I'd decided to marry Wading Heron, I could hardly wait to have her mine. The Creator watch over you both."
I felt Taha Aki's arm at my hip, pulling me closer to him, and for a moment, I was afraid. I looked up to Taha Aki, wondering what he might expect of me. I was young, barely old enough to be a wife. I would be unused to caring for the pair of us on my own and would make many mistakes. What would he think of me then?
His smile melted all my fears, and my lips curled to match his. He bent down to kiss me, and I heard my uncles cheer for us.
As soon as Taha Aki left to return to his own tent, my aunts pulled me into one of ours and began washing and dressing me, painting my face and breasts with symbols for fertility, happiness and long life. I shook a little as they did so, feeling my fear returning.
"It's going to hurt, isn't it?" I asked my mother.
She smoothed my hair again; it still hadn't been braided. "Yes, but not for long. You will heal quickly. And he knows. He will be gentle with you. You are lucky to have a husband who has had a wife. It will not be a surprise to you both."
I was lucky, amazingly fortunate — I was marrying a legend. When my aunts pulled me from my tent, he was waiting.
"I'd like to introduce you to my sons," he told us. I had met a few but had been only a girl at the time, not his bride. Each time that thought came to me, my heart and belly both fluttered in anticipation.
"That would be nice," I told him, taking the hand he held out. It soon dropped my hand and wrapped around my waist, resting on my hip. He seemed unable to pull me close enough, and I stepped on his foot once or twice as we walked through the circles of tents.
He had many sons, though less than a handful were wolf-men. It took a long time to meet all of them, but finally, we were headed back to his tent. There were baskets upon baskets piled outside.
"What are all these?" I asked, falling to my knees beside the first and pulling back the covering.
"Gifts, probably," he answered, hands on my shoulders. "Food, I hope. I have little need for anything else." Of course, his tent had been furnished with furs and cushions over many years. He was right, most of it was food, gathered fruits and roots, water skins, a few carcasses that I started to set about cleaning before he pulled me away.
"Those will keep. Here, eat these," he offered giving me some of the first berries of the spring, small and sweet. "Then come inside. I'll make something for us later."
He nearly carried me into the tent, and his smile broadened as he did so. "They gave them so that I could have you to myself, so you wouldn't have to cook or gather or clean," he explained, his nose at my ear. It sent a shiver down my side, making my skin tingle the whole length to my toes. "So I can have you to myself," he murmured again, taking my ear in his lips. I was sitting on one of the many furs lining the floor of his tent, and I tightened my fingers in the soft hair of a fox.
"What would you do with me?" I asked, half in anticipation, half in fear.
"Devour you," he told me, his voice growling almost like the wolf he could become. He proceeded to do just that, taking nipping bites of my jaw and throat. Shifting, he hovered over me, and urged me to lie back on the carpet of fur. My eyes still wide on him, I did, my knees coming up to his chest.
One of his large calloused hands wrapped around my ankle and slid slowly up my leg to my knee, catching the bottom of my dress on his hand and pushing it as he slid it down my thigh. My hands reached out to grab his shoulders, unsure what I should do. His hand pushed my knee out slightly, and he moved into the space between my thighs.
My breathing came quicker as I realized what he sought.
"I know it seems too soon, Pititchu, but I love you. I love you in a way I have never loved a woman before." Then this legend, this man, laid his head on my still developing breast, closing his eyes and sighing at the pillow he had found. "You mean everything to me. You are the moon, and the sun, and the sea. You are the world. It is as though the Creator formed me only to be here for you."
"That makes no sense. Surely I was made for you," I murmured, sliding my hands from his shoulders into his hair, combing it out over his back. "You existed long before I did. I must be His gift to you."
"Perhaps," Taha Aki mused, "but I don't think so. It doesn't seem that way to me." He started sliding lower, pushing my dress higher again. "It feels like I am here only for you." His head was between my knees, kissing my inner thighs. I let out a high-pitched keen as my legs tightened around his head. It felt so good. I had touched myself there, but it didn't feel like this. "I want to do everything I can to make you happy, to be your husband." He kissed his way down my thigh, making me tense more and my stomach flip.
"I don't know what to do," I admitted, blushing.
"I do," he answered, his lips even closer to my most sensitive places. "Let me show you."
I gasped as his tongue touched me, hot and wet where I already was both. I had started to think there must be something wrong; I didn't get so wet touching myself. But he seemed unsurprised, licking at what I had produced. I shivered and shook with the sensations, my hands still tangled in his hair. I had never found another place for them.
"Oh, Taha Aki," I murmured, thinking to how many times I had dreamed of him simply touching me, and now, he was doing so much more.
"My name sounds perfect on your lips," he answered, lifting my hips with one hand and sweeping my dress out from under me with the other. He pulled the simple sheath up and off. He chuckled a little at my painted body. "You don't need those to make you beautiful," he promised, kissing one design after another.
"Wait," I stopped him as he started to move down my body again. "Kiss me?" I asked.
He growled again, a rumbling in his chest that made my hips tighten on his where he rested between them. I clutched his shoulders, some of his hair still under my hands, pulling him up to me. His lips seemed to crash into mine, pushing me fully onto my back, my head thumping on the fur beneath it. I lost myself in his mouth, in the feeling of my tongue on his, of his lips between mine, of his teeth scraping over my lips.
"Ah!" I gasped when his touch resumed. I could feel him now, hard against the inside of my leg, and I knew I wanted to feel that closer. However, I couldn't focus on it as his fingers touched me in ways similar to how I touched myself, but so much better. He delved into me in a way I couldn't, and I lifted my hips to it, rocking in time with his fingers. I began to weep with the pleasure of it, my lips still moving on his. "You make me feel so good," I told him, my breath coming in shorter and shorter gasps.
"I can tell. It makes me feel good," he told me, rubbing himself on my thigh. My back arched at that, wanting to make him feel good but lost in the way he was making me feel.
As our kiss broke with my arching, he moved his lips down my body again, finding more and more places to touch and kiss that made me writhe and burn. I had never found so many, but it seemed every patch of skin he touched ignited into flame and passion.
"Yes," I told him, not wanting him to stop, wanting more. "Yes."
"Mmm." He almost purred in his growling. "Yes."
"Yes," I said again, reaching my hands down to his hips, pulling him up by them, digging my fingers into his skin.
His growl intensified, but he kept his hand in me, even as he complied otherwise. "You should have more of this," he explained, rubbing me and making me arch further. "That can wait."
"No," I told him, reaching down to stroke the hardness that had been pressed to my leg so long. "No, I want to feel you."
His teeth tightened, and I saw his face grow more lines as his eyes squeezed shut and his brow knit down. He almost looked in pain. I started to let go.
"No," he groaned, drawing his hand from me to wrap around mine. "Keep doing that. Your hand is so soft." His fingers ghosted over the back of my hand before finding every sensitive spot in their reach.
I pulled viciously on him as he teased me with more pleasure than I knew I could handle. I heard him groan and felt him throb just before wetness pooled on me. That pulsing, I knew what that meant, I knew that this was the making of life and the thought of that happening inside me blew my mind to the wind. I rocked harder on his hand and gasped more loudly, whispering to Creator to keep me safe as I left my body behind.
I didn't actually leave my body, though it felt like I must. Taha Aki's hand stilled and eventually my hips did as well. We were both gasping, his forehead pinned to mine. His dark eyes were locked on mine as our breathing eased.
"You are my life, wife." He moved his hand again, and I gasped, my back arching. His lips found my throat, sucking and nipping it. "I would share forever with you."
"I don't think I can last forever," I admitted.
He laughed, stilling his hand and kissing me gently. "Perhaps not. We'll take it slowly."
I groaned a little, feeling the tenderness in my thighs where I had squeezed so hard. They weren't used to it. "How slowly?" I wondered. Although I was tired, and my body felt sensitive everywhere, I still wanted to feel him inside me. I tried to explain by stroking him again.
He flinched and put his hand around mine. "Slow," he said. Shuddering, he rubbed himself on me, and I closed my eyes at the feeling.
"I'm ready," I told him. I wasn't afraid. This would hurt, but I wanted it. I wanted to feel it.
"You are," he agreed, leaning over me before pushing slowly, filling me an inch at a time. I started to lift my hips, but he pinned them down. I was glad he had when he thrust suddenly and tore me.
I clutched his back, scraping my nails on him as the pain gripped me. He pulled out of me quickly. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "So sorry."
As soon as he was out, the pain lessened. Tears had already escaped my eyes, and he kissed them away.
"I'm fine," I told him. Then I kissed him again. "I can't wait to feel that again, properly." Before he tore me, the pleasure had been intense, being able to close myself around him.
He growled again. "Neither can I. Soon," he promised. "In the morning. For now, let me get you something to eat."
I was surprised how dark it had gotten outside. Had we been in each other's arms that long? He started the fire and I made my way through the baskets, taking portions to add to a pot for cooking or a bowl for sharing. Finally, I picked up one of his knives and began removing the skin from a rabbit.
"You don't have to do that," he reminded me.
"Shouldn't a wife care for her husband?" I asked. "Aren't you hungry for meat with your meal?" I smiled, knowing the answer. If he was any part of the wolf he became, he craved meat often. I had seen him some nights tearing apart carcasses not fully cooked. He had looked so savage those times. Blushing at the memory, I spitted the rabbit and put it over his fire.
His breath was in my ear again. "What were you thinking?" he whispered, his tongue touching my earlobe.
I licked my lips and closed my eyes. "You, eating another rabbit, on another night."
He nipped the lobe and I gasped, flinching. "Yes, I would rather feed on you again."
That sent more shivers through me, thinking of just minutes or hours before when he tasted me. Then I thought of something I'd seen my mother do once. Being on the edge of the camp, neither of us had dressed. I licked my lips and thought to try eating him.
I had only just shifted between his legs when he cupped my cheeks, holding me in place. "You don't have to do that," he told me.
"I'm hungry," I claimed with a smile, "and the rabbit will take a while to cook." I lifted him — he was sagging slightly — and licked up to the top where there was a small gap in the skin. I tucked my tongue into that and lowered my mouth, setting my lips around it as I thought my mother had done. It had been dark, and I had been half-asleep, but I was sure this was how it went.
"Pititchu," he moaned, his hands on my cheeks tightening, fingers curling under my chin. My insides throbbed a little when he started pulsing. I still hurt where he had torn me, but I was also hot there, aching now and longing to feel this where I burned.
The longer I licked and kissed him, the further the skin pulled back, until a dark head emerged. I licked up this, tasting a thick, salty fluid — his seed. It was my turn to growl, and I lowered myself over him, wanting to drink the white liquid I had worn just a little while before.
"Pititchu!" he cried again and the throbbing intensified, rewarding me with a stream of what I sought. I pulled back to swallow it and felt a thread of it drip over my chin. I licked my lips and started to reach for it, but he pulled me up onto his lap, licking up from my breasts over my chin and to my lips.
"I should turn the..." I started to twist, thinking to turn the spit. He reached past me and wrenched it over, bringing his hand back with a small slap.
"You aren't moving," he told me, his lips at my neck again. His fingers teased me again, and my legs crossed behind his back, pulling me tighter to him. "You are staying right here," he told me, rubbing me faster.
"Yes, right here..." I answered, my head tilting back. He turned quickly, saving my hair from the fire. I doubt I would have noticed. His skin was so warm and I felt so hot, melting in his arms as he rubbed me to a new peak. My mind seemed to run away in fear of so much pleasure.
I blinked, head buried in his neck, my eyes filled with his beautiful red brown skin, my mouth open and tongue on his salty, sweat-laced shoulder. I blew out my nose and watched his hair move in the ripple of air.
"Am I allowed to move now?" I asked, a little wearily. I felt a twitch against the skin of my belly, but Taha Aki pulled me a little away from himself.
"Yes, we should eat. After all, I want you to keep your strength."
The implication made me shudder and blush again. He tore a leg off the rabbit for me, and I ate quickly, ignoring the burn in my mouth. I was famished. I felt like I'd run through the trees all day instead of visiting a few people and lying in the tent. Taha Aki also dished out root vegetables for me, and I ate these more slowly, watching him chew and swallow, the way his throat moved.
His eyes flicked in my direction, catching me in my scrutiny. It was hard not to; I had been watching him for so long.
"Ready for more?" he asked, turning to me.
"N-no."
He chuckled a little. "Ready for sleep? I expect I'll sleep better tonight than I have in years."
"Why?" I asked, surprised.
"I grew used to sharing my covers with someone. I miss it." He held the tent flap for me, and I ducked inside. "You might find it more difficult. It can take a while to get used to someone else's elbows and knees bumping you all night." He pulled a skin over and settled himself under it.
I curled into him easily. "Oh, I got used to my sister's long ago. I think I'll sleep well enough." I yawned for proof.
"You might find I have more than elbows and knees to bump you," he warned, and I felt the twitch of him moving. I shivered.
"That... might keep me awake," I agreed.
He took my hand and wrapped it around him. "You know how to deal with that, though."
I laughed and stroked him once. "Not well, but I suppose I do." Then I set my head on his chest as I had so often dreamed of doing, breathing his scent deep, and held him in my hand as I drifted to sleep.
After a week, our gifts began to dwindle, and Taha Aki finally agreed that we couldn't spend forever in our tent. He reluctantly went hunting while I gathered more berries, roots and nuts for us. I met some of my cousins in the woods, including Raven Wing who had recently married. She looked much as I did, permanently disheveled with a too-broad smile on her face. We separated a little from the others.
"Isn't it amazing?" she asked me. "Did you ever imagine that anything could feel that good?"
I shook my head. "Never. I never expected he would want me so often, either. I thought it was only my father who was insatiable."
Raven Wing giggled. "I know. Even when he's lying there, obviously finished, he can't stop touching me."
When I returned to our tent, I noticed for the first time just how isolated it was.
"Taha Aki?" I asked as I cooked our meal. "Do you think you might be willing to move our tent closer to my family's? I ran into my cousin today and..."
"Of course we can," he answered. I looked up in surprise and saw the smile that softened all the lines of his face. "I only separated myself to avoid unwanted attention. The attention of your family is not unwanted," he assured me.
It was only the first time he bent so quickly to my wishes, but not the last. It seemed there was nothing he wouldn't indulge me. I started to wonder if he was humoring me, or patronizing. Until one of his son's came to share our meal.
"You were never so with my mother," he mused. "It seemed the two of you bickered constantly."
"I know. I just... can't bear to fight with her. All of her requests have been so small, so easy to agree to, that I didn't even consider not doing so." He looked at me and smiled.
His son, one who hadn't taken the shape of the wolf, and his wife were very friendly, but both much older than me. It made me feel out of place. I felt much easier sharing breakfast with my cousin and her husband or Running Buck and his wife. He had married only months after I married Taha Aki. I also enjoyed bringing him breakfast where he sat with my father, uncles and grandfather. Some of the legend-like quality seeped out of him during that time, and he became just a man again.
There was one thing I desired that he couldn't simply give me, though he tried again and again, until I thought I was dying from pleasure. After several years, we still had no children of our own. His sons brought him grandchildren to bless and hold, but I couldn't give him a son. I tried not to let it strain our marriage, but he could tell each night when we curled up that I was praying this time, this night, we would conceive our child.
"Relax, Pititchu. It will come. Relax."
It was the same advice my mother gave. "A watched pot doesn't boil and a woman seeking a child doesn't get one. Enjoy your husband and forget the son. He will come when you least expect it. Besides, you will have less time to enjoy your husband once he comes. Indulge, girl." Mother had never seemed deterred by us, not that I had noticed. Unless they had actually made love more often before we were born. That hardly seemed possible. They'd never get anything done!
Eventually, on the seventh anniversary of our marriage, I asked my husband, as Chief, to bless me on a Spirit Quest in search of our son. He nodded gravely and chanted over me, praying I would return safe with what I sought.
I headed toward the rising sun, away from the ocean where I found safety. I walked for weeks, months, until the cold of winter started to sting my hands and feet, but I found no spirit guide, no child's soul to bring back with me.
The first snow had started falling when I found the strangest men I had ever seen. Their clothing was only in part made from skins — I didn't know what the rest was made of — and they rode behind creatures with hard feet. I had seen wild horses before, and they resembled these, but these were much larger, much shaggier and were chained to the sled the men rode on. A sled with wheels. Strangest of all, the men had white skin. I followed them west until they stopped for the night. That was when they first saw me.
They seemed as startled by me as I was of them. "It's all right. We won't hurt you. Come sit by our fire."
I didn't understand their words, but their gestures and smiles were familiar enough. I warmed my hands and feet. "Thank you."
They didn't understand my language either, but again, the sentiment was simple enough. I listened to them talk and gesture to each other and laughed when they did, smiled when they did. Being around these odd, exuberant men reminded me of Taha Aki and how much I had missed him during my quest. The longer I sat with them, the more I realized that as much as I longed for a child, what I really needed was my husband.
I thanked the men again as I rose. A wolf howled and I frowned slightly.
"Maybe you should stay. Might not be safe with all those animals about."
I gathered that they were worried for me by their expressions, but I was sure I knew that howl. I drew my knife to show them I could protect myself and bowed away from their fire. They called a few more times, but I didn't turn back.
"Come out, husband. No wonder I can't find our son with you around!" I shook my head in exasperation with him. I had never seen him as wolf, but his howl and growl were similar to those I heard in our tent when I reduced him to such noises.
"I'm sorry, Pititchu. I couldn't bear to be without you." He hung his head in shame.
"How long have you been following?" I wondered aloud.
He hung his head further and even went to his knees. "A week after you left. I'm sorry, I missed you too bitterly. It felt like my heart had left with you."
"There are lines at your eyes," I noted, tracing them with my fingers.
"I can't live without you, Pititchu. When you die, so will I. I haven't been the wolf since I met you because I want to die with you."
"You can't!" I argued immediately. "The tribe needs you. I can die, but you can't!"
"The tribe doesn't need me," he scoffed, wrapping his arms around my waist. "Not like I need you. They have my sons, your cousins and uncles."
"But none of them are Spirit Chief," I argued, stroking his hair down his back.
"I will not live without you, Pititchu," he declared.
"Well, I guess I'd better not die then," I muttered in exasperation. "Why did you reveal yourself tonight?"
"I don't trust those men," he said sulkily. "They aren't right."
I chuckled. "They were kind enough. You're just jealous." He growled a little and hid his face further in my dress. "I'm glad you came," I told him. "The nights are cold without you, and I miss you more than I want a son."
His head lifted. "Really?"
I laughed, stroking his cheek. "Really." I knelt down, hugging him tightly. "I love you, Taha Aki, Chief of my Soul."
"I love you, Pititchu, Wife of my Soul."
That night, when I'd finally given up the search, finally contented myself with my husband, our son was conceived.
More children followed. Yaha Uta was followed by a pair of girls, twins. After that came another girl, and then four boys, one after another. I rejoiced at my heaping of blessings after so long without. Taha Aki greeted each one with blessings and kisses and played with them as much as his rapidly aging body allowed.
It was strange how quickly Taha Aki aged. I had expected he would grow old at the same pace I did, but for every single gray hair Yaha Uta gave me, Taha Aki seemed to grow six. By the time Yaha Uta was twelve, our Spirit Chief resembled my uncles more than my cousins. There had been a time — shortly after we were married — that I worried I would grow old while he stayed young, as he had for so long. However, it seemed the opposite was happening — my cheeks remained smooth while his became sunken and wrinkled.
That's not to say my cheeks did stay smooth. With the coming of the children, my body began to sag and wrinkle as well, but I still seemed much younger than him. It didn't bother either of us or the tribe, except to concern them that they were going to lose their Spirit Chief one day. He had many talks with his sons about that and raised his eldest wolf-son, Taha Wi, to lead in his place. We settled in our tent, raising our children.
Yaha Uta joined Taha Wi when he came of age, turning into a wolf that rivaled his father's for thickness and beauty of fur. Not for size, though. He was certainly among the smallest of the pack, just as I had been among my cousins and sisters. He didn't seem to mind, though. Once Yaha Uta joined the pack, I made more of an effort to invite my stepsons for dinner. All the children from Taha Aki's previous wives who hadn't chosen the wolf were very old or dead, but his wolf-sons were still young, as young as Yaha Uta, as young as Taha Aki when I married him.
Taha Wi had taken a wife among the Makah and came back from a visit to them to share a disturbing story from their tribe. Several young women had disappeared, including Taha Wi's most recent wife's younger cousin.
"They want to blame the mysterious wolf-men," he said with a small snicker. No one outside the tribe knew which Quileute men became wolves. "Obviously they're wrong. I couldn't suggest too much to them, but I thought we might help search for their daughters." Taha Wi tore another piece of meat from the bone he held in his hand.
"Ah, and you were thinking of taking some of your brothers?" I suggested with a smile.
"Exactly," he answered with a grin. "We'll have much better luck tracking than any of their men."
His wife took his hand and stroked it. "Thank you,"
He moved the hand around her shoulders and kissed her cheek. "You thought I wouldn't care for your family? I'm just disappointed they didn't come to us for help, instead spreading those awful speculations. Not that I don't think one of my brothers wouldn't like to drag off your cousin, but I'm sure he'd return her after." He chuckled until his wife punched him in the small ribs. "Ow, sorry, but if she's half as pretty as you ..." he suggested, putting a finger under her chin to lift her face to his. Her eyes sparkled even as his did.
"Ewww. I see that enough in your head, Taha Wi. Take her to bed," Yaha Uta complained. I thumped him gently to remind him of his manners.
"You would take the whole pack?" Taha Aki asked his eldest son.
Taha Wi nodded, curling his wife into his side and stroking her. "I thought so. I'll gather the others in the morning."
"I'll let them know," Yaha Uta offered, rising from the fire. His younger brothers followed after him like ducklings. "Shoo, into bed, all of you," he told them. With his sisters coming between, the oldest of the boys was only twelve himself. They were all in awe of their brother who could become a wolf.
"He's right. Into bed. Raven, Crow, help me get them settled?" I asked my eldest daughters, the twins.
"Be careful," Taha Aki warned his son. "The Spirits are not quiet."
"We will. We'll watch for each other. Now I'm going to take my youngest brother's advice. Thank you for the meal, Pititchu," he called to me. I poked out of the tent just in time to see him scoop his wife and run for his tent. She was giggling and grinning.
"Do you remember when I was so young?" I asked Taha Aki.
"Was? I'm sure I can make you giggle like that again," he murmured into my neck, fingers tickling my ribs.
"Ewww," Yaha Uta complained as he returned to find us tangled by the remains of the fire. "Aren't you too old for that?"
"You only hope to be as virile as your father when you get old," I told him, throwing a shell from the meal after him.
"Sure, sure," he replied, ducking in the tent.
"Do you remember when I was as young as him?" Taha Aki asked.
I laughed loudly. "I hadn't been born yet!" That earned me a lot more tickling.
I sat many afternoons with Taha Aki while the wolves were gone. The Spirits were not quiet, and I could see how they troubled him.
"Why don't you don the wolf again. Learn what they know?" I suggested.
He shook his head. "I will age with you. I have no intention of delaying my death a day."
I leaned my head on his arm. "You don't have to die with me. I would die happy knowing you'd outlive our children."
"No," he grumbled. "I'm a man now. A wolf no longer. I'm yours." He shifted, his arm tightening around my waist as I leaned my head on his shoulder. "It's not age that makes me irritable," he explained. "Nor is it not knowing why they've been gone for so long. It is the Spirits. They know something's wrong, and they're trying to tell me what it is."
"Perhaps you should go on a Spirit Quest. I won't follow you," I promised with a smirk.
His eyes narrowed. "I wouldn't go if you didn't come. And our children need us. I will wait and learn what our sons find."
The next night, Yaha Uta, along with the next two oldest among the wolves, returned, explaining what they had found, what was putting Taha Aki at such ill ease.
"He sent us back, Father," Yaha Uta explained. "He knew you would want to know. We found a strange piercing scent. Taha Wi said he had smelled it in the Makah tents, but not so strongly as we found it as we tracked. It burned our noses, but we followed. We found traces of the girls — blood, some hair — but had already been tracking for days, so Taha Wi sent us back. They hadn't found... the girls last night."
"This predator is not like any we've met. It is something that makes even the forest Spirits uneasy," Taha Aki declared. "It is evil. It was good of Taha Wi to send word, but after a day or two rest, you should return and help him. This evil will take many of you to kill it." Taha Aki blew smoke from his pipe, and I watched his expression grow darker still.
"Yes, Father," Yaha Uta agreed.
Yaha Uta spent the next day with his younger brothers, hunting with them. He even took the youngest, little Otter, who was barely five. I spent the day with his father, my husband.
"Are you sure you won't go with them? If it is such a great evil, will they not need all our wolves?"
"I'm no longer a wolf, Pititchu."
I held him tightly. "You'll always be my wolf, Taha Aki," I reminded him.
He let out a huff of breath before kissing me. I returned it with interest, my hands running over his still hard chest.
"You will be the death of me, woman," he complained as he indulged me, sliding his hand between my legs.
"This doesn't kill you," I murmured in his ear, my hands pulling the string holding up his pants. "This makes your stronger."
He growled again for me, proving himself my wolf.
Yaha Uta and the others were never able to contact or find Taha Wi. They returned grief-stricken, and the tribe began to mourn. Taha Aki held himself separate from our funeral rites. The Spirits still troubled him and refused to give him peace enough to mourn his sons.
The Makah, after learning that we lost sons to what had taken their daughters, called on us for help when more were taken. Yaha Uta and his brothers ventured north again, though Taha Aki wished he could make them stay. The Spirits knew what awaited them, and the Spirit Chief was sure he would lose more sons.
He did. Yaha Uta returned to us, alone, with a skin-wrapped bundle on his back. He looked ashen, beaten. He had new scars on both his body and his heart.
"It was terrible, Father. The one with the sharp scent is shaped like a man but cold, hard and white. He had two of the women from Makah, one already dead. She looked like she'd been dead for days, except that no flies gathered. She was so pale. The other... he fed from. His mouth was on her neck and her blood on his lips. It was evil, Father. The most evil thing I have ever seen. Our knives were useless, and we shifted to teeth quickly. We could barely manage to bite into it. Each bite jarred and the taste was worse than rancid meat. Not only was he cold and hard, he was fast — faster than us. Stronger than us, too. He ripped Taha Ho in two. Yaha Ata and I were more cautious, working from opposite sides, trying to trick him into letting down his guard enough for one of us to manage more than a small hurt. Yaha Ata fell, though. While the monster's attention was on Yaha Ata, I managed to bite into his neck and remove his head. It was too late for Yaha Ata, but I tore apart what was left of the monster so that I could bring it back, like this."
"Raven, Crow," Taha Aki barked, "gather the eldest men and bring them here. I want the whole tribe to know." Our daughters ran to do as their father instructed.
Otter was whimpering. The other boys looked like they weren't far from it. I scooped him up and moved nearer them. "Shh, Yaha Uta has beaten this monster. We are safe. Now that we know, we will be wary next time."
"Yes. White men are evil, devils!" one of my boys said. I remembered the men I had met long ago. They had been neither devils nor evil.
"I think it isn't all white men, Sleeping Bear. I think some are people like us. This one, however, was not. Be wary of them, children. Be wary of strangers." I hugged them individually and settled them in their blankets. The girls came in just as I had finished.
"Yaha Uta is unwrapping his bundle, Mother. Father wants you to come and see."
I hurried out, the girls behind me. It was good that they did. The twins were old enough to be married, old enough to know the truth, whatever that might be.
The pieces did look like the white men I had shared the fire with, yet different. The head, even bearing a snarl of pain or anger, was far more beautiful than any of those I had seen. The skin was even whiter than I remembered as well, if that were possible. They had seemed so white, but I was sure their cheeks had been rosy in the cold. This head's cheeks bore no color at all. When my father, sitting among the elders, nudged a hand with a stick, it continued to move after prodding, seeming to pull itself toward the arm that lay a short distance from it.
Crow screamed and I nearly joined her. "Hush!" I ordered. "You will wake the children!"
"Burn it," Taha Aki declared. "I want it destroyed. Two fires. We won't let the pieces touch."
The girls and I began helping pile wood for the fires. As I passed the pieces, I couldn't fight the urge to reach out and touch this demon. Yaha Uta had said he was cold. I had only brushed the leg of one of the men sharing my fire, but he hadn't been any colder than I. Of course, even a Quileute would be cold at this point, dead and severed. Still. I couldn't stop my curiosity.
The hand I held felt like stone, like a carving of a hand, until the fingers closed around mine, seeming to grip me.
Raven, standing behind me, screamed. I put my hand that was not wrapped in stone to her mouth. "Stop! Don't tell your father. It hasn't hurt me," I told her and released her to begin prying the demon hand off my own. It took work. The fingers of the stone hand would not open, but I managed to wiggle my own free. Then I threw it on the fire with the rest.
"Why did you do it, Mother?" Raven asked.
"To know. To understand. Your father was not at ease when Yaha Uta returned. The Spirits haven't stilled yet. I think there may be more than one of these demons."
"Creator protect us," Raven whispered.
Taha Aki joined us later, both girls still badly shaken. He tried to comfort them. "This will be the end of this demon. I will keep the ash to be sure."
His comfort was inadequate. We felt his unease and knew the demon had not come alone.
I was with my daughters when I heard the screams. I quickly counted my children's heads as the warning cries reached us, making sure each was nearby and safe. They were, all but Otter who had gone to play with my cousin's children. My father and some of the elders sat at our fire as well, taking a noon meal. There were only two running toward us. I didn't have time to urge the youngest into the tent before the young men were yelling.
"A white demon woman!"
"She killed all of us!"
"The blood! So much blood!"
"She stunned us with her beauty and then killed us."
The two hadn't even finished their explanations when Yaha Uta dropped his jacket and pants, becoming a wolf in our midst. His brothers were torn between awe and worry, but Taha Aki and the elders followed. I followed with the children, desperate to find Otter and hoping Yaha Uta would find and dispatch the demon before we saw her.
We didn't find her, but we found bodies — broken bloodless bodies, some with splatter and gore, all dead. The children huddled more closely. When I found and cradled Otter, Crow and Raven closed on either side of me. He looked to be sleeping, except that his head hung far too limply, his neck broken. I screamed in grief, needing my husband. He didn't answer of course, focused on the demon still at large.
"Mother!" Sleeping Bear shouted. "Look! She's beautiful."
I turned to follow his eye. I did not see beauty — I saw horror. The woman was unnatural — too pale with hair a strange gold and eyes that were blood red. She was disgusting and evil, but the men seemed drawn to her all the same. All but Yaha Uta who was preparing to charge her. She spoke in the same language as the white men, and although I didn't know the words, I knew what her pointing at Yaha Uta meant. She wanted him, blamed him, would kill him.
I had already lost one son, my little Otter, was I to lose another so quickly? I strode forward, planning to fight this woman myself, as a woman, but Taha Aki stopped me.
"She kills wolves, Pititchu. You cannot fight her. Yaha Uta has fought one before. He will defeat her."
Frowning, I watched my son. He was a better fighter than her, anticipating her attacks, but still slower. Each crack of a broken bone, each howl he gave, made me colder, harder. I was turning into ice like the monster in front of me.
Then it happened. The monster tore Yaha Uta's throat, crushing it, and he went limp. My roar was lost in that of my husband, my wolf. His muzzle was white and his snarl was rabid. He attacked with a fury that rivaled the demon's own.
Why? How had Yaha Uta lost? How had he won before and lost now? How could I bear losing two sons? I shook my head to focus. My husband would lose, too, unless I could beat this monster. How had he won? He had taken the demon from behind. He had waited until the monster was killing Yaha Ata.
I looked up to see my beautiful husband, my wolf, fighting and losing. She was breaking his bones as easily as she had Yaha Uta's. She was strong, hard and cold. That was what I had to be. Pulling out my work knife, I ran screaming toward them.
I heard my daughters' screams and felt them grab for me, hair pulling free in their hands. My sons cried out, begging me to stay, to not go. My father's voice somehow reached me through all that.
"You are even more special than I knew."
The woman looked at me and seemed to laugh. I laughed back at her, tipping my head and howling with mirth at the irony of life. I could have outlived my husband — the legend that lived forever — instead, I outlived two sons. When the demon stopped laughing, I knew she would be coming for me, to kill me as she had Otter, not to feed on me. Gripping the knife, I lifted it and threw myself forward on it, the blade burying in my chest.
The cold that had crept in with the death of my sons, the thought of losing my husband, was melted in the heat of that pain. The demon came, mouth open wide, obviously craving the blood I so freely offered.
After losing coldness, I ceased to be hard, collapsing as my husband, my wolf, jumped and bit. Then another wolf came, and another. Using the last of my strength, I turned my head to see only my daughters among the elders. My boys were aiding their father. The demon would die.
So could I.
My family became blurry, and the last thing I saw was a white muzzled wolf before my sight left entirely. I still wasn't quite dead, though, because after that came a howl, more haunting or chilling than any I had heard. I knew it was Taha Aki, mourning me.
Finally, I ceased to be strong, floating away with the Spirits who welcomed me. I sensed Taha Aki there and clung to him as the last of my strength faded and even my spirit left.
I had saved him. I had saved the rest of our children.
How sad that we should remember her but not her name: the third wife.