THE LAST WEREWOLF

CHAPTER 5 (Avery)

Avery lived in a duplex unit on the northern edge of town at the foot of the mountains, where the forest began its ominous climb into the higher elevations. Outside her bedroom, moonlight poured through her half-open window, seeping through the slits in her blinds, which were angled down but parted enough to permit a small pool of light to gather on her hardwood floor. She sat at her desk with her bed behind her and a nightstand lamp lit up in the far corner of the room, its luminance holding the perfect balance between light and darkness as to not drown out the moon.

She watched as the pool of light grew pale and disappeared, reminding her of when Dorian had been so close to kissing her over an hour ago. Now, that moment seemed so far away. She saw it in his eyes; he was interested in her, but something had held him back. Yes, they had only met that morning, but it felt like they had known each other for much longer, especially when he asked about her pendant. He was so eager to learn who gave it to her, almost as if he already knew the answer, but just wanted to find out what she knew about it. But what had stopped him from making a move? Their moment seemed so real. She couldn't have imagined it. As she pondered their dinner and their conversation, she realized that if he would have tried to kiss her, she would have let him. At least in her moment of weakness, she would have.

Avery leaned over to see why the moonlight had stopped shining through her window and saw that a scattering of clouds had moved in and were now blocking the heavenly body from view, at least temporarily.

She sighed with discontent in the quietness of her bedroom.

She switched on a desk lamp next to her laptop and opened a leather-bound book that she'd had since she was a child. As she flipped through the first few pages, she touched the pendant, which she still wore, even after changing into the comfortable pair of silky shorts and the pajama top she slept in every night. Her fingertips glided over a particular page, the one she had written seventeen years ago when she was eight. Her mind drifted back to a warm summer evening with the sun beaming so brightly she had to squint against its glare as it hung in a clear blue sky. They had a giant oak tree in their backyard with a tire swing tied to a thick branch by a rope.

She had always wanted to climb that rope. The branch above her head looked so strong and far away, so high in the sky.

The tree trunk was enormous, large enough that her dad couldn't wrap his arms around it. Now, as she thought about it, even her mom wouldn't have been able to help him hug the big oak. She doubted she could have helped them complete the circle of their family, hand in hand, especially considering how small her little wingspan was back then. She kept peering up at the length of the rope, her eyes straining to see the place where it coiled around the branch.

There were no other limbs low enough to make it possible to climb the tree. Only the rope.

With her eight-year-old hands, she started up its length, pulling her little body higher. As she tugged and grunted, she found her arms were quite strong enough to handle her body weight. Once she got to where her feet could rest on top of the tire, she paused and regathered her strength. A warm smile spread over her face as she stared back at the French doors leading into the back of her house. In a window, she noticed her mom washing dishes in the sink and her dad hugging her from behind, kissing her mother on the cheek. They would be so proud of her. Or probably not. They might stop her if they looked outside and saw what she was doing. In reality, they would likely scold her for attempting such a foolish feat.

She had to act fast. This was her moment. Her chance to do something big.

Avery summoned the courage and started up the rope, her fists biting down hard to keep from falling. She could no longer feel the security of the tire beneath her feet, but her palms burned with each lunging grasp. The higher she went, the more the world fell away under her. Before long, she found herself close enough to lay hold on the branch.