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Skylar

"Is this about the werewolves?" I ask, hoping to god that this guy doesn't believe the mumbo jumbo the townsfolk talk about.

They think I don't know. While no one has directly mentioned it to me, the rumor mill is rife with this. And it boggles my mind. Every new person who comes into town is suspected of being a werewolf. They probably thought I was one when I arrived. I'm convinced that when people live in one place for too long, they find things to keep them occupied, and this seems like one of them.

"You know about the rumors," Dmitri states, looking at me with a blank expression.

"Come on, you don't really believe in that stuff, right? The people around here are old blood and have nothing better to do than make up stories." A smile forms on my face as I recall hearing this werewolf rumor for the first time when I was walking behind two elderly residents in town one day. I had seen this married couple around before, and I knew he wore a hearing aid. Sometimes he wouldn't have it switched on properly, perhaps on purpose, and his wife would end up shouting at him. That day was no different, and I overheard their entire conversation. They were commenting on how many werewolves were wandering around the place and how soon the town would belong to them. It was ludicrous.

But even as I think that, my smile falters when Dmitri doesn't comment on the absurdity of such an outlandish rumor.

"You believe it, don't you?" I put my feet back on the ground, shifting in my chair as if this conversation requires a more serious posture.

"So, what are you trying to tell me? The bear last night—that was because of werewolves?" I'm chuckling as I ask my questions. I wait for a response, taking another sip of my wine.

Dmitri remains silent, not moving, just eyeing me intently, his wine glass untouched on the table. Is this why he wanted to see me? To chat about werewolves? Surely not.

"Skylar, the rumors are true. Werewolves exist." He is dead serious, and I pull back slightly, frowning as I try to comprehend what he is saying.

"That wasn't bear blood on my hands last night. It was werewolf blood. A werewolf from my pack."

I nearly laugh, but looking at his deadpan expression, I decide against it. He is serious. And a little time as I have spent with Dmitri, even I know he doesn't joke easily, so this must be what? True?

I put my wineglass down, not sure what I'm feeling.

If what he is saying is true, which it can't be, then he is a werewolf if this other werewolf was from his pack. My gaze drops to his arms, expecting to see an abnormal amount of hair there based on pictures I have seen in fiction books and movies. But it looks perfectly normal. Big, but normal. Even his teeth looked normal, with no expected long and pointy canines in sight. So how was this true? How did it work?

Apart from his massive size, his unusual off-white hair, and his almost photo-shopped green eyes, he looked normal. And then my mind goes back to all the very muscular people I have been seeing in town lately and at the diner. Ugh. I was starting to panic. The more I think about it, the more abnormal everything seems now that I am looking at it from a new perspective. And who was I kidding? None of it was normal.

I look down and away from Dmitri as my stomach feels queasy and my heart rate increases. My breathing is jagged, and I wonder if I am hyperventilating.

"Calm down, Skylar."

He gets up from his chair and moves around the table before hunching down in front of me, his jeans nearly bursting at the seams where his huge thighs pull on the material. His big werewolf thighs, I think, shaking my head as I try to dislodge the thought.

Dmitri slowly moves his hand to my back, stroking it as he helps me calm down, until eventually my breathing normalizes.

"I'm okay now," I mumble, grabbing my glass and downing the remainder of the wine as he moves back to his chair.

"You can ask me anything, Skylar. I will try to answer as fully as possible."

He looks at me expectantly, waiting for my onslaught of questions. I don't even know where to start. I decide the best place to start is with last night's events. It was close to my home, which made me wonder whether it was coincidental or linked to him.

"What happened last night?" I pick up the bottle of wine and top up my glass, as ready as I will ever be to potentially have everything I have ever believed ripped to shreds. And who better to do that than a supposed werewolf.

Dmitri

Sky sits dead still, her expression unreadable as I recount the events of last night. How I smelled blood, Ruan's death, me tracking the hunter, and eventually his capture. I leave out the torture of said captive, sure that might just be too much for now.

"That brings us to this moment in time." I finish my monologue, watching and waiting for Sky's reaction.

Instead of hysteria, she asks a very logical question.

"What are hunters?"

"Hunters are specially trained members of an organization called The Guardians. The group was created centuries ago when there was a need to protect humans from a rogue group of power-hungry werewolves who went on a rampage, killing innocent people. That group of werewolves nearly caused the extinction of the entire werewolf species."

She nods and sips her wine while I continue.

"Those of us left knew that to coexist on this planet with humans, we would need to change our ways. We entered into agreements with humans in neighboring towns bordering our pack territories, ensuring their protection from the few of us who were still out there seeking to harm them, as well as from other supernatural beings. In exchange, over the years, we became nothing more than rumors, able to live side by side with humans. As the years went on, our protection extended to include protection against the very organization that had been created to protect them, The Guardians. With us no longer being the threat we were at their inception, what The Guardians stood for slowly started to rot and change, making them the organization they are today. An organization that will kill anyone for a price. No matter the species."

Sky has finished her wine, the glass back on the table, and her cheeks are rosy red as the alcohol takes effect.

"Other supernatural beings—what does that even mean?" she asks, a frown on her beautiful face.

"Vampires, witches, warlocks, fairies, that sort of thing." I am frankly surprised at how well she has been taking everything until now. I know it's a lot. Maybe the wine is making her more pliable in accepting what she is being told.

"And our government, they know about all of this?" she asks, confusion still lacing her tone.

"They know. But they mostly leave us alone. There are some agreements in place that have been carried over for decades that have helped keep the peace."

While that was mostly true, there were rumors of disappearances amongst the supernatural species over the years. While we couldn't prove it, we suspected that the human government was involved. We were not naïve enough to think they would just leave us alone, not planning for a day when a war might erupt between the species.

Then she asks me the most important question.

"So, what does any of this have to do with me?"

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