Everything was in place long before the wolves returned.
I watch from Zacharias’ bedroom window as they all flood in from the forest, earthly hues racing against the rising sun. Their muscles lock and relax as they run on four limbs; free, careless and wild. The wind blows their fur messy, disheveling them the way it dishevels the trees. Everything is disordered.
I recognize Zacharias as he leads his wolves, ebony fur glinting like metallic strands in the early morning light. His head is elevated and proud, ears flat, emerald eyes flashing brilliantly. I’m so mesmerized by his beauty. I know it will be the last time I see him in this form. I need to take it in while I can.
I look for James and I find him not far from Zacharias. He runs, undisturbed, his tongue drooping from his mouth. I
