Alright, here goes. This is my very first Shiver fanfic, and I'm proud of it! ^_^ This is a fic taking place after Forever (**SPOILER!**), so do not read if you haven't finished the series! Thanks to stigmafan123 for reading it and putting up with my endless questions. Please review!

Disclaimer: Don't own Shiver, unfortunately. All credit goes to my God, Maggie Stiefvater.

~Grace~

Sam had shifted three weeks ago, a wolf once again, running with the pack in the new territory. I'd managed to stay human longer than him, but the cold was seeping into my body and mind the way that coaxes me back to my other nature. My other half.

Huddled in the cabin, wrapped in a thick purple wool blanket, I watched the screen for the pack from my warm spot on the couch. We'd installed web cams all over the peninsula, so we could watch them from the safety of the old cabin. The only modern looking things in the cabin were my laptop, the new super insulated windows, and my sleek red coffeepot.

The cabin itself had an antique atmosphere to it. The building itself was small, maybe fifteen feet by twenty feet, just enough room for Sam and I. A futon occupied a fourth of the space, one of the many crucial things we'd bought for the place. The other things consisted of a microwave, a small, portable oven, a mini fridge and a bookshelf. The bookshelf was already full of foreign poetry and nonfiction textbooks, all different heights and thicknesses. The fridge was mostly empty, except for a small carton of milk, a few apples and a container of pasta. All the appliances were on the left wall on top of the already built counter, lined up and organized. An old fashioned wooden table sat about 2 feet from the counter, covered by a pale, sky blue cloth. A small cabinet on the floor was where we stashed the few dishes we had, along with a nice set of utensils from Isabel.

The walls used to be covered in peeling green wallpaper, a dark forest color that matched it's surroundings. We'd torn it off, and painted them a soft orange, the color of the clouds at sunset. Three windows lined the walls, each one a two part sliding glass, made for easy opening. The windows were triple pane, for insulating the warmth.

The screen flickered, and steadied. I turned back to it, examining the action. Three wolves padded across the screen, each with something clamped in his jaws. A kill.

Smiling, I shut the computer, dropped it onto the couch, and walked over to the closest window.

The copper and gold practically glowed from every surface, the sky, the ground. My breath clouded the glass, shrouding the outside world from me. I traced a heart into the white so that it made a curving line of transparency.

Leaving my blanket of warmth on a chair, I walked over to my dresser and put on a few more layers before heading out.

Once fully equipped and outside, I made my way through the seemingly familiar woods. Evening light, bright and friendly, streamed through the leaves overhead and spotted the leafy floor. The woods were becoming less and less of a dark unknown to my eyes, and more a welcoming shelter for me and the wolves. They were already accustomed to it, loping around and weaving their way trustingly through it's trees. I continued to walk cautiously.

I took a left and eventually came upon signs of success. The smell of fresh blood made my eyes prick and my stomach turn, my heart tearing at me from within. The kill was nearby.

Closing my eyes, I took in the scent of my territory. The kill was most prominent in my mind, a frail doe brought down swiftly, mangled now and hidden from scavengers. The leaves my feet crushed put off a fresh smell, the smell of change, which I feared and hoped for. Autumn is the best season. With all the gold and copper, it's the most colorful part of the year for us. Plus, the air is always crisp and alive, crackling with brisk energy. Of course, hunting is more difficult, with all prey more quiet and careful in the cold, which made this meal more special. But we love the cold. And winter came soon, which guaranteed us our cold time.

I remembered watching videos of us jumping through powdered snow, the white sticking to their coats and making us look graceful and fast. We used our hind legs to run on top of the snow, which we can do because of our adapted paws. Wolves look quiet and powerful in the winter, majestic and beautiful.

Suddenly, another scent assaulted my sensitive nose. Sam.

An image exploded in my mind, so clear and concise that my brain fumbled to wrap itself into the right way to understand it. It was a question, bitter in truth but joyful in meaning; a picture of a handsome white wolf looking deeply into the eyes of a golden wolf. Grace.

Whipping around, eyes flashing open, I scanned the surrounding trees for any sign of him. A shadow streaked away, light dancing in his wake. My vision flashed between shades of black and red, and all color. Pain flashed through me, leaving a searing burn in it's path. I felt the change, the difference. My mind scattered, leaving me with only my instincts and my twisting shape.

Sam.

Sam.

For a fleeting moment I considered that it might be my turn to shift, but my thoughts blurred and suddenly, the forest was all I knew.

~Sam~

Grace.

Grace.

Grace.

The woods flashed by in an amazing streak of fire. Another wolf danced in front of me, at first twisting furiously, then bounding around me in a frenzied circle. Happiness sent thoughts through my head, but only those from this half of me.

Grace.

Grace.

Grace yipped and pounced on me, knocking us over and rolling us down into a shrub. Barking back, I licked her muzzle before jumping up and running off into the forest. She followed, sending me images. Images of her longing to hear my howl and touch my fur and see me. To finally see me again. We were too far away for too long.

Grace.

How long?

Stopping, I whimpered quietly, bending down to paw at my muzzle. Light cut through me in a cruel twisting way, pushing my mind too far from this shape.

Three weeks. Three weeks of being

I barked out sharply, falling down and curling up.

Three weeks of being

human.

Grace stood above me, looking around for any sign of danger. She new I was vulnerable, and she was defending me. Agony continued to tear me through and pierce my consciousness in a way that pulled me up and away.

human.

Grace shied away, lowering herself down onto the ground, crunching leaves. Her eyes burned silently.

She sent me a picture, too bold in meaning. A human, walking away from her, leaving her alone in the dark forest.

It was too much.

human.

Grace was quivering, still fearful, but now a different fear. I heard Grace snarl in pain, but my eyes were closed and I watched as unknown colors flashed in my mind. They were too bright and too much and too

human.

I twisted into a different, more familiar form.

~Sam~

Grace.

Grace.

Wolf.

Sam.

I blinked, but squeezed my eyes shut again against the brilliant surge of light.

Sam.

I am Sam.

Gasping, I stood, opening my eyes to search for what I needed to see.

After a moment I found it. Grace's dark shape, crumpled in a heap on the forest floor. I fell to my knees beside her, reaching out my hand. My mind raced, trying to figure out which of me was I and what half of her was she before I heard the one thing that settled it all into place.

"Sam?"