Page 5 of UNAwere

I’m lugging my suitcase downstairs when my sister comes back inside. She’s panting as she goes for the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water and drinking deeply. When she catches my eye, she sets the bottle on the counter.

I smile, putting my bags down at the bottom of the stairs, and I see her eyes go to them. They waver with tears, and she bites down on her bottom lip.

‘Do you wanna go for a run together? In the forest, like the old days?’ I ask, desperate to distract her.

It’s been a while since I’ve Turned, and I can feel my skin crawling with the pent-up desire. Despite us following human customs a lot more closely, it’s not within us to never Turn. And eventually, our Were selves burst from the seams if we haven’t let them free. It makes us sick, weak, to fully ignore our instincts, so, as much as I hate it, I make sure to Turn at least once a month.

‘Okay,’ Maeve says.

The front door opens, and we both spin around, seeing Nolan come in, Drew tailing close behind. I feel my cheeks turn pink and look away. Maeve gives me a quick, wide-eyed glance.

‘Girls,’ Nolan says.

‘Hey, Maeve,’ Drew says, smiling softly. He sees me, and his eyes crease at the sides. ‘Sybbie.’

‘Dreugh.’ I clear my throat, tapping my chest. ‘Drew. Hey. Hi. How are you?’

‘I’m good. How are you?’

‘Good, thanks. How are y—?’ I stop myself, realising I’ve already asked.

But Drew hasn’t seemed to notice.

‘You’re doing such a great thing for our pack,’ he murmurs, his brows screwing inwards slightly. ‘Thank you so much.’

I give him the trifecta of a wink, a click of my tongue, and finger guns, and immediately regret it.

Drew’s Nolan’s second, and I’ve known him since we were both kids. Only three or so years older than me, we were in some of the same circles. And he’s always been cute. Tall. With a head of thick, blond-brown hair. He’s taken to growing stubble lately, which lines his defined jaw, and it somehow makes his blue eyes even more captivating.

I’ve never really had crushes before. But Drew is one of those people that make you stop in your tracks and turn into a silly little puddle, boiling up nonsense. When I look back at my sister, she’s grinning like an idiot.

‘Maeve, are we gonna…?’ I start.

She nods. ‘Oh. Um, yeah.’

‘We’ll be back,’ I tell Nolan. ‘Just going for a run.’

He smiles. ‘Don’t be late. You’ve got about an hour.’

I grab my sister’s hand. ‘We won’t!’

Turning has always made me uncomfortable.

I’m not sure whether it’s the snapping of bones, the grinding of changing ligaments, or the feeling of my teeth lengthening and my jaw extending that sets me on edge.

But every time I do it, it feels like a need rather than a want.

I’ve always been more comfortable in my human form. On two feet instead of four, with my hair in a messy bun instead of all over my body.

Maeve’s beside me, her Turn quick and effortless, and it’s always something I’ve admired about my sister. Her wolf form is as beautiful as her human form: a shiny chestnut coat and cute little ears.

She sits as she watches me struggle, waiting with a cocked head as I claw and grunt in the dirt.

It really shouldn’t be that hard, she says through our mental link.

And yet… I groan.

When I’m done, I lie on the forest floor, catching my breath. Maeve lets out a quick snort, as if amused by my patheticness.