"To look into the eyes of a wolf is to see your own soul – hope you like what you see."

-Aldo Leopold


"Oh man, I really slept like crap last night," Lola ran a hand through her messy brown hair and slouched into her chair beside Zoe, who slurped at her Caramel Macchiato and shot her drowsy-eyed friend an amused look. "Well, not for nothing, Lo, but you look like it, too."

"Charming, thank you. You now, just when I came to love the new you, you fire insults at me."

"You practically made me the new me, so stop complaining."

"Oh, no, sweetie, that new you is entirely your mystery lover. I spent ages trying to get you to wear lingerie with even a tiny lace-trimming, you wouldn't have it. He comes along; you empty Victoria's Secrets' racks. What's next, Agent Provocateur? Kama Sutra instead of Bible?"

Zoe just smiled and assigned her lips the job of emptying her drink instead of answering that.

"You're supposed to deny me now. Say that he has nothing to do with it, that he was a one-night thing…that kind of assurance? No?"

"Sorry, Lola, but I happen to have had an amazing night. Not much sleep, either, but reviving it was nonetheless."

Lola debated whether to make yet another snarky comment about Zoe's newly discovered promiscuity or go after matters more important. She settled for the latter. "Does he have a brother?"

"I don't know, didn't really come up between the sheets."

"You've been doing the man for what, three months now? And never bothered asking what his background was?"

"Oh, wait, actually, we did talk about that, and yes, he has a brother. Sorry, suffered from momentary memory loss due to world-shattering orgasm."

"Good for you, sweetie, now, before I commit a murder out of jealousy, hand over the brother's number."

"I don't have it, Lola. Because other than that one talk, we really didn't bother with each other's life stories."

"Well, get it, then."

"So I'm just supposed to go up to Sam and say: 'Oh, by the way, Sam, I know that we only ever really connected on a physical basis, but see, my lecherous and sexually frustrated friend would really like to screw your brother, think you can give her his number?'"

Lola pouted and pretended to think about that. "Yeah. Sounds about right. Just leave out the sexually frustrated part."

"Forget it."

"Why, because you're worried that digging into your lover's background will bring shady secrets to the light? Because to me, it sounds like you don't want to talk to him about it."

"You know what, I don't. I'd really much rather screw him than hammer him."

"Don't buy it," Lola quipped. "Look, Zo, maybe you can turn from God's lamb to Sex Goddess within a couple of weeks, but you're fooling yourself only when you say that you don't care that you know crap about who you're sharing your bed with. You care about that kind of stuff, and you wouldn't be Zoe if you didn't, Sex Goddess or not."

Zoe bit her lip, flinching from the unexpected soreness of it; she hadn't been aware Sam and she had kissed each other that heatedly. "You know, I never accounted you that high of a Social IQ."

"Pff, you kidding me? A guy could have figured that one out, and don't I know that they ain't too big on the feelings and understanding women."

Zoe chuckled and made a vow to herself she'd ask Sam about more of his life… after all the intimate nights they'd shared, she thought herself to be entitled to the truth. "Alright, I'll dig. Back to you, though, sweetie: Since I assume you didn't get lucky last night for once, judging from the unhappy look on your face, what is it that kept you up? Wasn't cramming for the exams, I take it."

"No," Lola groaned and buried her head in her hands. "Stupid full moon, that's what."

"That was yesterday?"

"Nope, tonight, but I'm a little premature. Always toss and turn one night before and after, too."

"Wow, sucks for you."

"That would have been your cue for empathy."

"Yeah, that was sacrificed on the altar along with my virginity, sorry," Zoe chuckled and rubbed Lola's back encouragingly. "Come on, let's head to another riveting lesson of our favourite professor."

"You know, irony still sounds creepy coming out of your mouth."


"I don't know, Bobby, he just," Dean looked for the right word, "took off, left me with the case only half-finished…"

"Well, the kid had a lot to deal with lately," Bobby Singer idly watched the milk pour into the glass. This was far from the first talk of this kind he'd had with Dean.

"Yeah, and since when does Sam deal with the serious crap on his own? He was the one who went full Oprah on me and pestered me for months to talk about my time in hell. It's not Sam's style, that's all."

"I'm not sure you're hearing me here, Dean. Sam was in Lucifer's Cage for over a year and had his broken soul shoved back into him. Give him time to deal."

Dean sighed and ran a hand over his face wearily. It wasn't just worry about Sam that tore him up lately, it wasn't even the Mother of All business going on, either; a fair share of guilt meddled with him here. Dean knew he couldn't have let his little brother's soul rot in hell, of course not; but maybe what he'd done, bringing it back with just a feeble wall between Sam and a whole other kind of hell, hadn't been favour of the year, either.

"Sam's not you, Dean. Johnny Walker and rage might have worked for you, but Sam's always been the brooding pensive type. You let him off the leash a little here, it'll be fine."

"Yeah, I guess," Dean replied automatically and sank onto the motel bed, this time with psychedelic orange-green covers. "Thanks, Bobby."

"You take care of yourself."

"You, too. See ya," Dean hung up and tossed the phone onto the nightstand. He let his gaze wander emptily over his surroundings, his mind anywhere but here in this sleepy town somewhere in Arizona. Or had it been New Mexico? Dean couldn't bother to remember. It all swam around loosely in his head; if you never knew a home other than a car and the road, you stopped caring about places and states. The only fixed mark Dean had ever known was Sam. Now even he was acting out of sorts...

Dean pulled his gun from the waistband of his jeans and pushed it under his pillow; a 0.45 always ensured safe, if not sweet, dreams. Following the famous Kansas song, Dean laid his weary head to rest.

He could sleep under the most awkward of conditions; hunting taught you that much. In the backseat of the Impala under a nosy bridge – no problem. On the ground of some rundown house in the middle of nowhere – Sure. However, that damn moon was irritating him, shining preposterously brightly right into his eyes.

"Typical," Dean growled and dragged his body into a vertical position. On his way to close the curtains, it suddenly struck him; A pattern. There was a goddamn pattern.

"Son of a bitch."

'You let him off the leash a little here…'

"Son of a bitch!"


"Hey, Z, did you hear from your Mom lately?" Lola asked carefully.

"Nope. Not since the almost-wedding," Zoe replied and chewed on her dinner, "Can't say I miss her all too much. Life's a lot more fun without her preaching her morals to me."

"I bet," Lola huffed and shook her head laughingly. "So, what's your highscore?"

"Of…?"

"Orgasms a night."

Zoe stayed silent.

"Come on, Zo, don't hold out on me!"

"I'm counting!"

Lola's mouth fell open. "Wow. I never thought I'd ever hear you say that in regards to orgasms. So, what's your memory telling you?"

"Like… five… or seven." Zoe had lost count; last night hadn't been part of this world for her anymore. Sam had made her come closer to heaven than church ever had.

"Are we still talking a night? Or in your overall relationship?"

"Former."

"Holy fucking God, that is, I mean, damn," Lola hadn't believed herself to be easily impressed; up til now, anyways. "Find out his brother's location and number ASAP. I'm hoping that kind of skills run in the family…"

"Right. Topic change, please?"

"Ahh, a prude streak, thank you! Finally. For a moment there, I was afraid we would actually have a whole day of naughty fun. Creepy thought, that."

"Bite me."

"Sam beat me to that punch, I believe," Lola stated matter-of-factly and pulled Zoe's hair back from her neck to reveal impressive love bites. Not that Zoe knew, but it had been all Sam could do not to sink his teeth into her tempting warm flesh and turn her while making her scream with otherworldly pleasure. The pattern of bruises and love bites that covered her whole body? That was Zoe getting off easy…

Zoe squatted Lola's hand away, "Yeah, yeah. So, what's up, other than you looking like a Thriller music video participant?"

"Bite me," Lola growled.

"You just wish I did."

"Okay, I am so not ready for having you even imply Lesbian sex!"

"Pure jealousy."

"You got me there. Can we switch topics?"

Zoe grinned; she actually really enjoyed the witty, teasing conversations and not having to answer to anyone about what she was doing (or rather, who). It made her feel alive and independent, like she could actually decide over what she wanted to do with her life. "Sure. Talk ahead."

"Alright, I'll start with some venting."

"Sounds promising."

Zoe wasn't disappointed. "Who the fuck does Prof Hayden think he fucking is?"

"What'd he do now?" Zoe sipped at her wine, rather unimpressed by her friend's outburst of temper. Lola and Professor Hayden were like a tank of gasoline and a lit match; didn't mix well and the outcome of a meeting was always unpleasant and destructive.

"He has all the time of the world for his freaking Mythology students, but when I come with a question about Anthropology, he's suddenly busier than the Times Square! What the fucking hell!"

Zoe nodded sympathetically as Lola ranted on and on and eventually concluded with: "What's up with Mythology, anyways? Who needs that?"

"People who want to become professors later on and teach about it?" Zoe suggested.

"I mean, what is there to teach, anyways? I visited a class once some years back, and honestly, not too much interesting stuff going down."

"How is that any different to the other classes?" Zoe raised her eyebrows and shot a glance outside, noticing it was slowly getting dark. As the light faded outside, a hungry emptiness inside her grew, demanding to be filled…

Quickly shaking that feeling off, Zoe sought distraction: "What was that lesson about?"

"Not quite sure, ended up making out with Bernd Haley after ten minutes," Lola shrugged, "Maybe that was the real reason I think Mythology is boring… Anyways, something with the importance of full moon for the pagan lore, then I think I dropped out."

"Made out, would be more like it." Zoe replied, her thoughts racing ten steps ahead: Full moon. Why did the sound of that taste strange on her tongue? "Hey, Lo, I've got to go and check something out, I'll see you tomorrow."

Zoe slipped her jacket on, grabbed her purse and headed for the public library.


Sam could hear Zoe's scent singing to him long before she parked her car in front of the apartment building. It was stronger than usual, and held a bitter note of anger, and an ever so slight note of fear, which made it even more intoxicating. Damn, he wanted to sink his teeth into her neck and ram into her as he did…

Sam could hear Zoe fumble with the keys and her hands shake as she unlocked the door. The fact she was unsettled, possibly afraid and angry, didn't remotely affect him; all the human emotions of the world wouldn't stop him tonight.

Zoe didn't know if she should even close the door, since she intended to stay no longer than necessary – alright, so she'd passed that point a long time ago, in fact, she shouldn't even have come here. Yet, here she was, facing Sam, who hadn't bothered with putting on more than jeans today; but this time, she wouldn't allow his deceivingly divine looks to lure her in any further and shut the trap close that she'd so blue-eyedly walked in.

"Zo." It was a statement, spoken more like an order than a welcome.

The moon, on the rise, cast dangerous shadows on Sam's face, whereby Zoe had no idea how shadows could look dangerous. All she knew was that she was damn scared right now, but also too pissed to just walk away without having a word with him. "What…" She swallowed the lump in her throat. "What the hell are you?"

"What do you think?"

Zoe stumbled backwards against the door. "So you're not even going to try to deny it, to…?"

Sam shrugged carelessly; no matter what he said or did, Zoe would be his one way or another. "Why should I deny the truth?"

"Oh, maybe because you've been denying it to me the whole fucking time!" Zoe exploded, flinching from surprise at herself.

"Alright. So, before I confess to wrong things and make any further mistakes when it comes to the truth; what is it you're accusing me of?"

"Tell me what the hell you are, because you're not human."

"No," Sam replied, "I'm not."

"Well, don't sugarcoat it for me!" Zoe hissed and turned on her heel, but didn't as much as take one step before she found her arms grabbed by Sam and his muscular chest pressed against her back, not fooling her for one second about the capabilities his strength gave him.

"Do you want to say it or shall I?" He whispered hoarsely, voice rough with suppressed desire and lack of humanity.

"There's nothing I want to say to you," Zoe struggled against his grip, which turned out to be as successful a mission as making a stone swim.

"Oh, really?"

Zoe tensed up, forcing herself not to look at Sam and not to let herself be beguiled by his captivating voice. She bit her lip and let Sam turn her around roughly, making her face him and see the horrible truth about what he was in his animalish eyes. "No. Actually, I've got a few things to say. Werewolf."

"Apparently, college education does pay off after all," Sam said in a tone as if he'd observed a fact he knew to be true in the first place.

Suspecting it was one thing, but to have him affirm it instead of calling her a nutcase was a whole other matter – Zoe was gripped by fear and using the element of surprise, she managed to break free of Sam's grip on her and darted towards the door. "Stay the hell away from me!"

"Don't you think it's a little late for that?" Sam said lazily and watched her entertaining attempt of flight.

"No, I don't!" Zoe screeched and pressed the door handle down, only to find her head was swimming with the speed Sam had whirled her around and crashed her against the wall.

"Well. I think differently." He snarled against her neck.

"Everyone's entitled to their opinion, now let me the fuck go!"

"Zoe, really, cussing?"

Zoe ignored his input. She'd heard of adrenaline rushes making people do the craziest things, but getting pissed at a monster more than capable of killing you, that was definitely taking the cake. "You know, I should have seen it before. All those freaking signs, and I just allotted our 'connection' to chemistry or I don't know what other shit."

"Human romantic crap," Sam just said and brushed her hair away from her shoulders, reveling in the sight of her perfect, spotless skin and that enticing scent wavering off of her... he was so done resisting. "It's basic instinct, nothing more."

"I get that, thank you very much. I'm afraid you're going to have to find another virgin for your breeding program, 'cause I am so dropping out of it!"

"No, you're not."

"Uh, yes I am!"

"How you're going to do that, hm?"

The simple truth would be: Zoe had no idea. The brutal truth was: Her anger was fading and therewith her willpower. The longer Sam had her pinned painfully against the door, the more frightened she got; and more turned on, too. No woman would admit to it, but being controlled and dominated wasn't that rare a desire among them. And being pushed up against the wall, caged in by arms strong enough to snap her neck; that definitely was being controlled and dominated.

"Thought so," Sam said and crushed his lips on hers.

'No,' Zoe thought helplessly. She didn't get away now, she'd be dead… best case scenario. Drawing together what little of sense she had left, Zoe clawed at Sam's chest, pushing him off of her just far enough for her to breathe again. "No."

"Zo, cut the drama. You can't escape me, for one, and two, even if you could, you wouldn't."

Zoe was so sick and tired of people telling her what to do and not do. "Watch me." Therewith she finally managed to open the door and escape the lethal confinement of her apartment that had begun to resemble a death row cell more than her home.

Sam sighed lazily and watched her run down the stairs as if it really mattered how fast she ran; like a hamster in his wheel, she could run and run, but get nowhere in the end.

Sure, thrill of the chase was nice and all, but enough was enough. Sam calmly turned towards the window.


Tears streamed out of Zoe's eyes, and she couldn't tell whether the salty river flowing down her face originated from anger or fear, a combination of both, or maybe even hatred of herself and her ignorance. It didn't exactly help her situation that while he legs may move in the one direction, her heart – or rather more nether regions - ordered her to head the opposite.

'No, Zo, not now, not now… tell your damn libido to stick it. Alright, bad choice of words…'

It should have struck her as odd that Sam didn't even try to follow her after his brash determination to keep her here; but to say Zoe's mind was otherwise occupied would have been an understatement. Central Station was a damn recreational area compared to the rush hour that went down in her head.

'Where the hell am I even going?' Zoe had reached the last flight of stairs, mere steps away from freedom now, but the moonlight shining in through the nearing front door held nothing comforting. However this would turn out, something was already taken from Zoe forever; her innocence for one, and the ability of finding peace at night for another. She'd never be able to look at the world the same, just when she thought she'd begun to finally figure it out…

"Can we cut to the chase now? It's getting boring."

Zoe's screams didn't dare leave her throat, as if they didn't want to attract any attention in fear of getting ripped to shreds. If Zoe could, she'd have followed their example. Sadly, however, she was too corporeal as to just disappear. "How did you…?"

Sam just looked heavenwards, which in Zoe's opinion, was touching on blasphemy, however cooled off her relationship to God may have gotten.

"That's impossible," Zoe breathed, hoping some Godly entity would turn her words into reality.

"So you're willing to believe in the paranormal, but won't allot it some supernatural abilities?"

Zoe took back everything she'd said about the uselessness of Mythology class; had she bothered to take it, she wouldn't stand here facing a… monster, defenseless and wondering which creature it was again that had to be invited in and could be repelled by garlic.

A shocking epiphany unkindly revealed to Zoe that those were vampires, not werewolves.

She was either screwed in the 'Killed by a werewolf' way, or the 'fucked to the point of insanity by a werewolf' way, and wasn't quite sure which would be the more desirable fate.

"Sam, please, don't do this," Zoe stumbled backwards. She knew begging was hopeless, but in her devastation, she would try anything. Resistance hadn't worked and never would, so she would give pleading a shot. After that, she could only resort to crying, and if that wouldn't work, there wasn't much left to do but lie down and die.

But it didn't seem like Sam wanted her dead. Though he surely did seem to want her to lie down.

"Don't do what, Zoe?" With every step he took towards her, she stumbled further back into the house, and she wasn't sure if it would turn out to be her death trap or her salvation.

"You know what," she whimpered and rather fell up the stairs than climbed them. Tears of fear were running down her cheeks, while more southern regions of her body were leaking different kinds of fluids. Even though, or especially because, she knew the horrid truth now, Sam seemed even more irresistible to her. Zoe found herself trapped between lust and terror, and it wasn't the most pleasant of sensations.

"Not exactly, no," By now, they were back in her apartment, and Sam locked the door behind them. "Don't kill you, don't hurt you, don't turn you? Or don't fuck you?"

Zoe flinched. Death, pain and sex, that she had reckoned with. But him turning her? That hadn't been on her radar whatsoever, and she had a feeling that that was the iceberg that would bring her to sink.