Page 153 of Such Sharp Teeth

This time, it comes from me. It’s all of me. All my rage, all my pain, all my strength, all my love. When I howl, I howl with everything I am, every fiber of me, in every form, every phase. Past, present, future.

There is no me and the wolf. I am the wolf. This body is mine; it belongs to me. I’m here inside it, in control.

I’m on my feet. I run.

And goddamn, I’m fast.

I’m on her. I pull her away from him, her neck in my jaws.

I taste the faint tang of her blood.

If I were to clamp down, bring my teeth together.

If I were to feed.

Rip out her throat, rip out her spine. Mash her bones. Lick her dust, let what remains dissolve on my tongue like a snowflake.

The frenzy threatens to take me back. Take over.

There’s a loud humming. An engine. I look up, see taillights fading into darkness. Ian driving away.

Distracted by the car, I lose my grip on Mia and she breaks free, swiping at me, opening a deep gash on my snout. She hits me again, and I meet the pavement. My skull ricochets, neck twists. Silver blood squirts from my mouth as I yank my head back in the right direction. But I have no time. She wrestles me into the woods, pins me down.

I get an arm underneath me and push, bucking her off me. She hits a tree with a nasty crack. Crumples forward.

I approach her slowly, cautiously. We’re in a clearing, and the moonlight is strong and true. I watch as she stirs, as she lifts her head. She shoots forward with lethal speed. We claw at each other. My jaws overflow with blood and fur, and I can’t tell if it’s my own, if it belongs to me or to her.

I get her down.

Above us a cloud drifts over the moon, and without it I can’t tell where I end and she begins.

Mia. My friend.

I sniff, and there’s a trace of gardenia. Her perfume.

The scene around me becomes grievously clear.

Look at what the world has done to us and look at what we’re doing to each other because of it.

I release her, and she howls in anguish. She attempts another strike, but I dodge her. I can see her anger. Feel her rage.

“Mia,” I say. “Stop.”

She lunges at me, her teeth grazing my fur, drawing blood. She barks.

“Stop!” I growl.

But she won’t. I know she won’t. She doesn’t want to. She’s going to force me to make her.

This time, when she comes for me, I’m ready. I bring her down, sink my nails into her.

I don’t want to do this, but she’s not giving me a choice. I press my blood-slick snout into her chest. Her heart beats fast not with fear but with defiance. With hate.

I bury my face in her side.

I take a bite.

The taste is bitter. She whimpers underneath me.