"Gravity explains the motions of planets, but it cannot explain who sets the planets in motion."

-Isaac Newton

OoO

When I was in school, one of the first things we learned in science class was about gravity. An unseeing force that moved the entire cosmos. Planets, stars, and moons alike. You can't see it, touch it, or taste it, but it is always present, keeping you grounded. That was the law of gravity; one single law to govern the entire cosmos. And it was beautiful.

But when the natural order of things is disrupted, even in the tiniest of ways, then chaos ensues.

Now, before I continue, I should probably tell you that I never paid much attention in science class or any classes for that matter. I hated school growing up and by the time I was in high school, I regularly skipped out on classes altogether. I didn't really see the point then in wasting my time sitting at a desk and listening to teachers drone on and on about topics that I didn't care much for. Contrary to what you're probably thinking right now, I wasn't a bad kid. I wasn't dumb either and I knew that getting an education was important for stability and success. School was just never my gig.

However, for some odd reason that I could never quite explain, the concept of gravity stuck with me. The idea that there was just one, single law to govern the entire cosmos was something so— foreign to me and mindboggling and yet, at the same time, so simple to understand and if there is one thing in this world or the next that I can appreciate, it's simplicity in the chaos that is our lives. What goes up must come down is something that everyone universally can understand even if they don't know what gravity is per se. The idea of order within chaos was appealing to me, especially after everything around me came crashing down.

Before my parents died, we had a good life. We had love and stability, everything my brother and I needed to survive and thrive in the world we lived in. My mother was kind and loving, slow to anger, and always full of compassion while my father was wise and quick with a joke. It was my father who taught me and Ezra how to survive in the world we lived in, how to control ourselves and how to recognize and fight our inner demons. He instilled in us values and ethics, that of which are still with us today. Things were so much simpler then; before my parents died and my life turned to shit.

Ever since then, I had done a careful job of trying to put order back into my life. Bit by bit until I had rearranged the scattered pieces of my life and of course, I was damned proud of all I managed to accomplish over the years. I liked order; I didn't like chaos.

Which was why bumping into the man at the Police Station had put me on edge the entire day.

Sitting at a table in the Starbucks with my laptop in front of me and my headphones plugged and with a cup of hot coffee in my hands, I tried not to think about him as I bobbed my head to the music, trying hard to focus on the slew of articles I had found on the internet. I was doing research, trying to locate more information about our very own Lycaon on the web, searching for more clues and evidence and trying so damn hard not to think about him.

And by him, I meant Paul.

I couldn't stop thinking about him. And by that, I don't mean omg he's so dreamy! Let me be clear, I don't really pay a lot of attention to men outside of my pack or my coworkers. I don't date anymore, nor do I even entertain the thought of it. I am single by choice and I prefer it like that. So no, I do not sit for hours after meeting a man thinking about him or ogling him. I hunt men… Well, criminals if you want to get technical and during all my years on the job as well as my years waitressing and bartending, I've learned a thing or two about men and how they think. So no, I wasn't sitting there drinking coffee and daydreaming about how beautiful his eyes were or how bulging his muscles were— although I do have to admit he did have some nice muscle definition…

Oh my God, I totally am daydreaming about him, I thought with a horrible realization before mentally scolding myself.

I drank the rest of my coffee as I focused my attention back on my research. I had been browsing through several different news articles for the past few hours, scouring over them like a hawk, looking for any minor detail that might shed some light on exactly what was going on around here. And I found, much to my surprise, that the trail of terror this Werewolf had left behind actually originated in Astoria when several farmers in the area had reported their livestock being killed in strange ways, their throats and hearts ripped out. While this Werewolf may have killed animals to stave his cravings, somewhere along the way the line between animal and human became blurred. After all, what is the difference to a hungry, rabid Werewolf when in the end it's all just meat? And according to our history, once a Werewolf gets a taste for human flesh— well, let's just say there is no coming back from that.

Including Molly, there was now a grand total of five victims. A young woman who was last seen leaving a popular nightclub in Seattle early in the morning, a male hiker in Clallam County, an elderly man in Aberdeen, and finally Molly in Forks. And as of last night, there was another victim. This one, unlike the others, had not been directly attacked or eaten, but had been with the hiker and had been injured in the attack. She had run onto a nearby road screaming for help, injured and bloodied. She was picked up by medical services and taken to the hospital while the police combed the woods where her brothers mutilated and partially eaten body had been left. She fell into a coma and passed away early this morning due to complications, bringing the actual number of victims to five. And I knew with certainty that there would be more, and soon.

I quickly skimmed through the rest of the article as the door opened and two elderly ladies walked in, both soaked from the torrential downpour as they shook themselves off and ordered their drinks. I glanced at them briefly before returning to my research, but as the two women sat down at a table across from me, I couldn't help but pick up on their conversation with my enhanced hearing.

"…the poor family. I can only imagine what they're going through, losing Molly like that. She was their only child you know," said one of the women as she sipped her coffee.

"They canceled school today so that they could plan out the service. It's going to be held on the football field last I heard," said the other woman as she shook her head.

I glanced at them again, my interest piqued in whatever it was they were discussing. Something about a memorial service for Molly.

"Are you planning on attending?"

One of the women nodded, "I go to church with the family and my granddaughter was classmates with her, so we'll be attending. Anything to show support for that poor family."

"When is it?"

"It's at six."

I tuned out to the rest of their conversation as I glanced at the time on my phone before finishing my coffee and gathering my belongings. I stood up and made my way out of the shop, grimacing as the cold rain hit me like a ton of bricks. I ran out to the rental car as fast as I could, seeking shelter from the wind and rain as I hopped in the driver's seat. I sat there for a few moments, my hands on the wheel as I stared out at the droplets on my windshield, contemplating what my next course of action would be. I had a few hours before the vigil, leaving me plenty of time to do other things.

Making up my mind, I drove towards the scene of Molly's death. I knew that it would still be blocked off by the authorities, but that didn't mean that there wasn't anything I could learn from the scene itself. While the rain was heavy, there was a good chance I could still pick up on the scent and maybe even follow it, which I knew was dangerous but that didn't deter me as I parked my car along the side of the road along the tree line before making my way towards the bus stop where Molly was last seen alive.

The area was rural with only a few houses scattered around, a thick cover of trees on either side which provided the perfect hiding place. I could almost see it from where I stood, a horrible monster lying in wait while Molly exited the school bus. I blocked out the mental images that followed as I shoved my hands into my pockets and made my way towards the trail where her body had been found. She had been snatched from the sidewalk and dragged into the woods; her backpack left on the side of the road. It had been found a few hours later by her parents, which had prompted them to finally call the police. I had read the news report for myself, wishing to familiarize myself with the investigation as much as possible.

The area where Molly was found was roped off and there was already a memorial put in place for her with pictures and flowers and even a crucifix, which had been knocked down by the wind. Bending down, I grabbed a hold of the cross and repositioned it so that it was standing up, my fingers lingering on the wet wood as I closed my eyes.

And then something truly amazing happened.

As if sensing that I was not alone, I opened my eyes and turned around, my eyes scanning the thick forest that surrounded me for something or someone. My Werewolf senses never failed me, and I ended up being right about someone watching me as my eyes fell on something nestled between the trees.

There, watching me silently from his hiding spot, was the silver Wolf from the road.

I couldn't look away from the magnificent creature as our eyes met, a jolt of electricity shooting through my frozen body as we stared at each other. Neither one of us moved for what felt like an eternity. He was large and beautiful, his silver fur standing out against the browns and greens of the forest around us. I almost imagined walking up to him and running my hands through his fur, the desire to close the distance between us growing by the second.

As if reading my thoughts, the Wolf stepped out from the trees and hesitantly walked towards me. I was frozen to the spot as he grew larger and larger with every step he took, but even then, I couldn't look away from him. I was in awe of his beauty, so rugged and wild and yet so breathtaking at the same time. I had always held great respect for the Wolf, not only because of my Werewolf status but because of the wild beauty they possessed. They were hunters, fierce and protective. Unlike Werewolves and humans, they were guided by instincts rather than malice or hatred.

He stared down at me as he stopped a few feet away from me, his head tilting to the side. I suppose any normal person would be frightened, but I wasn't. I had nothing to fear as I watched him sit back on his hind legs, his large intelligent brown eyes never once leaving mine.

I wanted so very badly to reach out and touch him at that moment as I gently rose to my feet and approached him. I was not afraid as I took a small step forward and held my hand out for him. He sniffed my hand, an act that seemed to physically pain him. Usually, other animals were threatened by my presence, which was just a matter of instinct. I was, after all, a predator, but even then, the Wolf did not shy away from me as he allowed me to get closer.

My hand was almost on his fur when my enhanced hearing picked up the sound of humans nearby, their scent wafting over to me as I momentarily glanced back at the trail where two humans were making their way towards the memorial site, no doubt to pay their respects. Seeing that they were still far away enough that they couldn't see us, I turned back to my Wolf only to find that he was long gone. The space where had stood only seconds before was empty, as if he had never been there to begin with.

And while I stood there, in the distance a sad lone howl echoed through the forest.

OoO

My father once told me that the thing that set humans apart from animals was the ability to mourn for people we had never met. I don't think truer words have ever been spoken before, especially as I stood amongst the crowd of Molly Anderson's mourners, their candles the only source of light in the darkness. One candle was enough to outshine the night, but all of them together?

It was breathtaking, and yet so very sad at the same time.

I held my candle as I looked around at all the unfamiliar faces, some of them with tears running down their faces. Even though I knew this was a community event that everyone had been invited to, I still felt like an outsider. I hadn't known Molly personally, having only heard about her until after her death. I wasn't even from the area, and yet I grieved for her. I grieved for her innocence in all of this, just a little girl walking home from the bus stop, in the wrong place at the wrong time. I grieved for her family, the pain that they were going through. And I grieved for the fact that despite it all, no one would ever know the truth about what really happened to Molly Anderson.

On the stage, I could see the grieving parents surrounded by friends and family as well as the school staff and faculty. The Principle of the Elementary School was getting ready to deliver a speech when felt someone approaching me, my senses heightened enough to know that someone was watching me. I turned around to see Chief Swan standing behind me in uniform, his head exposed as he held his hat in his hands as a sign of respect.

"Chief," I said in greeting as I glanced down at his unlit candle. I held mine out expectantly as he glanced at me, giving me a curious glance before he allowed me to light his candle with my own. The light from the fire flickered as he looked away from me and towards the stage, a hardened look crossing his features.

"Did you know her?"

I shook my head as I glanced back at him, "does it really matter any either way?"

He shook his head, "no, I guess it doesn't."

There was a moment of silence as I watched people comfort the grieving parents, whispering words of encouragement and hope to them as well as assurances. They were empty words, of course, fleeting words meant to fill a hole that could never be filled. I could see their pain from where I stood as Molly's parents cried for their daughter, grief-stricken by the loss of a loved one.

I knew their pain; had felt it for myself. The feeling of helplessness, knowing that there was nothing you could do to bring them back, your memories all you have left of them. It was the worst feeling, being able to recall the moments of joy in times of great sorrow.

"Did you know her?" I asked, tearing my eyes off the grieving couple.

He nodded towards the family, "I went to school with her father. We played on the football team together."

I nodded as Charlies continued, "Molly was their only child. They spent years trying to have her. I remember when she was born, they were so happy. They had spent years thinking they would never be able to have a child of their own and—" he shook his head before glancing back at her. "I just don't understand how something as horrific as this could happen to such a nice, normal family."

I looked down at my flickering candle as the Principle took the microphone and began to address the crowd. Charlie listened intently to the speech from beside me, but my attention was elsewhere as my phone buzzed in my back pocket.

"Excuse me," I said to Charlie before making my way out of the crowd and towards the bleachers where I knew I could get some privacy. My brother's name flashed across the screen as I pressed the accept button.

"Hey," I said as I glanced back at the crowd, "what's up?"

"We're stopping for the night in Medford, Oregon," said Ezra as I nodded. "We'll wake up tomorrow and drive the rest of the way in tomorrow. How are things on your end?"

"Crowded," I replied. "They're having a candlelight vigil for one of the victims and I decided to go."

"The little girl?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said with a sigh, "I don't know— I thought I'd come to pay my respects. I didn't know her, but—"

"You don't have to explain yourself," he replied before adding; "I get it. It's rough."

I closed my eyes and nodded. You see, even though I had only been working in Law Enforcement for a few years now, I had seen some pretty bad things, some of it involving kids. The cases involving kids were always the hardest, especially for me.

"Yeah look," I said as I switched my phone to the other ear, "things here in Forks are pretty hectic right now. I didn't get a lot of research done today, but the one who was in the hospital died early this morning. The time between the kills is getting shorter and shorter, which means he's escalating. It won't be long before it kills someone else."

"How are the local authorities handling it?" he asked as I glanced back at Charlie, who had his arms wrapped around a dark-skinned woman with long dark hair.

"As well as can be expected," I replied truthfully. "They have no idea what they're up against and it's not like they have the resources to actually kill the thing. The people are scared and they're pushing for them to act, so they're going to be deputizing a posse to hunt it down."

"That'll just make things ten times worse," replied Ezra as I nodded in agreement.

"It won't stop," I said before adding; "not now and not because of some hunters. They'll never be able to kill it with the weapons they have. It will just keep killing and spreading fear wherever it goes. Ezra, we have to end this."

"And we will," he said, reassuringly. "You don't need to remind me. I know."

I shook my head, "I can't do this alone. I want to hunt him down, I want to end this, but I can't. I—"

"Hey," he said, his voice soothing. "Take a deep breath. Everything's going to be fine, okay? Mason, Brenda, and I will be there tomorrow, and we'll hunt it down together, as a pack."

I did as he told me and inhaled deeply, his soothing and calming voice enough to reassure me.

"And once that's done, we can put this all behind us and go home. Forget this ever happened," he said optimistically. It was in times like this that I wished I was like him, but I was a pessimist. To me, the glass was never half-full.

I knew what he said was easier than done, especially for me. I still tried to take his words to heart, but even then, I knew I was only fooling myself.

"Hey," he said after a few moments of silence, "I love you. Stay safe."

"I love you too," I replied, a soft smile forming on my lips before I ended the call and shoved my phone into my back pocket before glancing back at the procession. Charlie was still standing where I had left him, his arms still wrapped around the woman who I presumed was his wife, but while I was gone a few more people had come to join the couple. Two huge guys were standing there looking awkward as they held candles, which looked ridiculously small in their ginormous hands. One of the guys I recognized from earlier that day, the one who had been with the guy I had accidentally bumped into at the Police Station.

For some reason, their very presence put me on edge as one of the guys coincidentally looked over in my direction, his gaze pausing on me as his entire body went rigid, like a rubber band that was stretched way too thin. He elbowed his friend who looked over at me, both freezing at the sight of me. Just their very presence put me on edge but having them all stare at me as though I had just kicked a puppy? It made me strange, as though I was unwelcomed.

I turned to leave but stopped short at the sight of him.

I was surprised to see him, but clearly not as much as he was as his eyes zeroed in on me, widening in shock and happiness before a dark shadow crossed his features. It was as if he was happy to see me at first, but then suddenly remembered that he hated my guts.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, voice low and almost threatening.

"Excuse me?" I asked, incredulous. "Who the hell are you?"

I could sense the other's making their way towards us, but I stood my ground as he visibly tensed.

You see, the thing about me is that ever since I was eight years old, I was dealing with assholes. Asshole cops, asshole foster parents, asshole people who thought they could take advantage of me because I was an orphan or because I was a girl. I had learned early on how to deal with people like that and then I became a cop and a Bounty Hunter and that skill was only amplified. I had learned how to not only deal with the garden variety of assholes, but asshole criminals who thought they were above the law. And unfortunately for me, I sometimes had to deal with asshole misogynistic cops who thought that Law Enforcement should be a gentlemen's club. So, because of experience, I had learned to live by three golden rules.

Rule number one, never back down. Always stand your ground. Weakness is a trait that will always be used against you if you let it be known. Don't let them think for a moment that they can walk all over you because the moment that you do, you become nothing but a doormat. Rule number two, choose your language wisely. And by this, I don't mean use kind words only. No. Fuck that. Make sure they know that you're not someone to be messed with but also try not to be too inflammatory. It's never a good idea to pour gasoline on an already raging fire. Rule number three, if they come swinging at you, all is fair game.

"Paul," said one of the guys as he stepped towards his friend, "man, you need to calm down."

It was the guy from earlier, the one that had been with Paul at the Police Station. He looked between his friend and me, giving me an unreadable expression before he turned his attention back to Paul, clearly wishing to de-escalate an already out of control situation.

"Don't tell me what to do," growled Paul. Wait… Did he just actually growl?

"Look, dude," I said as I crossed my arms over my chest, "I have no fucking clue who you are what your problem is, but usually it's polite to introduce yourself before coming off as an arrogant prick."

The guy I didn't know snickered while the other one raised both of his eyebrows in surprise as if that was the last thing he had ever expected to come out of my mouth. Paul, on the other hand, looked absolutely livid as he began to visibly shake.

What the fuck?

"Is everything okay here?" asked Charlie as he made his way over to us, concern lacing his voice as he glanced between the two of us, his eyes lingering on a shaking Paul. I glanced up at the Chief before glancing at his wife, who was standing a few feet away from us. She stared at Paul with a knowing look before she gave me an unreadable expression, one that put me even more on edge. I then glanced back at the crowd of people who had come to pay their respects, something which I did not want to detract from as I shook my head.

"Um, yeah," I said, clearing my throat. "Everything's fine. In fact, I was just leaving. Now."

I quickly turned to leave, wishing to de-escalate the situation and get out of there before we caused a scene. No such luck.

"No wait!" yelled Paul as he took a few large steps toward me as if to prevent me from leaving. There was a panic in his eyes, a wild sort of look that made him look deranged as he tried to grab my arm, but my reflexes were faster as I pulled away from him. The other two guys immediately grabbed a hold of him and began to drag him away in front of my very eyes.

"Come on Paul," said one of the guys, "just let her go."

Paul looked at me as I stood frozen to the spot, his eyes boring into mine as he opened his mouth to speak. What he said next was enough to shake me to my very core as the ghost of a whisper escaped his lips, just loud enough for me to hear.

"What are you?"

I felt my eyes widen as my jaw went completely slack with shock as all three of them disappeared into the woods. I don't know how long I stood there, frozen in shock and confusion at whatever had just happened. When I finally did turn around, I was met with a slew of gawking faces, including that of Charlie who looked absolutely dumbfounded. His wife, on the other hand, looked less surprised than he did. In fact, she looked as though she knew exactly what had just happened, but she remained silent.

"I think," I said as I cleared my throat, "that it would be best if I left."

I didn't wait for either one of them to reply as I ran past them, pissed off and angry at both myself and at stupid fucking Paul as I made a beeline towards the rental car. I got into the driver's seat and rested my head against the seat, my knuckles white as they grasped the steering wheel.

I closed my eyes as Paul's words echoed through my mind.

What are you?

OoO

Coming Next: Another victim and a terrifying encounter with a legendary creature

AN: I hope you enjoyed it! Don't forget to review and tell me what you thought. Feedback is always welcome!