Olivia’s Hunt - Ch 6
Copyright © 2025 Michelle Bolanger
I closed my eyes, leaning forward to brace my head in my hands. She paced incessantly in my mind, pushing, growling. I tried to ignore Her, but She grew more restless. It felt like my insides itched, and She growled louder until suddenly there were images flooding my mind.
Pack fights in broad daylight with humans watching in horror. Pack members in cages and crates being taken to mental hospitals and locked up in prison. Other shifters and the elves hiding, running for their lives, all while I stood by and did nothing. The view shifted and I was looking into a freshly dig hole. I dropped the Linjal, throwing dirt over it as anger and bitterness tingled against my skin, just before a gunshot rang out and the world went dark in a flash of burning pain at the base of my skull.
“No!” I shouted and pushed back from the table. “Please no!”
Dad rounded the table and wrapped me in his arms. “It’s okay. I’m here. You’re safe.” He held me close as the reality of my next choices hit me.
If I refused to move on, chaos would descend on our world. I was the Härskare. The one prophesied who would tame the black wolf, who would lead the next generation of pack shifters and shore up the balance between humans and our world. Losing my mother didn’t change that.
“Dad, I don’t think I can do this.” I whispered into his shoulder. “I can’t do this alone.”
“You’re not alone.” He brushed a hand down my back. “I’m here. The pack will support you. Mason will…”
I jerked back. “What does he have to do with anything?”
Dad smiled softly. “He was your mother’s choice.”
A strange feeling twisted my stomach, and my wolf responded immediately with a curt growl. I’d tried to put the handsome stranger out of my thoughts, but now his face came rushing into focus. Short dark hair cropped close at the sides of his head framed a strong face with a heavy jaw coated in a couple day’s growth of beard. I hadn’t thought I’d paid much attention other than to acknowledge he was good looking, but my mind conjured every detail of his face. And his eyes. Yellow gold in the center spiraling to mossy green, exactly like the eyes of the black wolf who had spoken in my mind.
“Mom knew him?” I asked.
“She and Josey knew the twins when they were kids.” He raked the hair out of his face, and with a quick motion, tied it in a knot at the base of his neck. “Hunter was always a loner, and mom has - “ he flinched, “- had a soft spot for those kind of kids. She tired to get him involved in the pack meetings, but he stayed at the fringe. Mason was the one who jumped right in.”
“Why haven’t I ever met them?” I asked suspiciously. “Why now?”
He released me and reached for the dinner plates. “Josey kept you apart. Said the three of you needed to grow into your strengths before you met.” I helped him clear the table. “She and your mother always suspected one of them would be chosen. Everyone was surprised when it was Hunter.”
I rinsed the plate and put it in the dishwasher. “He looks older than me.”
Dad’s brow creased. “He is. Mason is twenty-seven. It was one of the things we disagreed about.”
Twenty-seven? He was eight years older than me. The thought sent a rush of excitement, then a chill of doubt through me. “Does it matter?”
Dad turned to face me. “That’s up to you.” His voice grew deep. “Your mother and I were not on the same page about this, but it’s the mother’s right to make the first introduction so I stayed out of it, especially when Josey agreed. I never met Hunter, but Mason seems nice enough. Maybe I’ve been wrong about him.” His eyes flashed. “From here forward, it’s your decision. If you don’t want him around, I’ll take care of it.”
My heart tripped in my chest. Mason was handsome, and if mom liked him maybe I should at least try. I stared at the floor and dad tipped my chin up. “You don’t have to decide anything tonight,” he said.
I exhaled and She pawed at me. I glanced out the window at the fading daylight. “There is one thing I need to do.” He cocked his head at me. “I would very much like it if you would run with me tonight. I want to make my first shift.”
His eyes closed and his shoulders relaxed. When he opened his eyes, they were shining. “Thank you.” He said, and kissed my forehead. “There is a fresh robe in your closet. Go change and meet me outside.”
I nodded and did what he asked. As I did, my skin grew tight, the wolf inside nearly shaking with anticipation. My bedroom window was still open, and the mournful howl I’d heard every night sounded again. When She tried to howl back, I couldn’t stop the strange sound that escaped my lips. She was close enough to the surface it felt as though I would burst apart. Her mewling cries clawed at my throat, wanting to answer the call from beyond my window.
Dad rapped at my door, and I spun toward him. His face creased in concern. “Are you all right?”
“I - I don’t know.” My voice rasped, low and husky.
He ticked his head toward the front door, tension leaving his expression. “You’re doing great. She’s just a little anxious.”
I huffed and followed him outside. The moment my bare feet hit the dirt beside the steps, my skin began to tingle and my vision sharpened, making every detail stand out in sharp relief. The wind brought strange smells to my nostrils and I sniffed involuntarily, swinging my head left and right.
Dad’s hand landed on my shoulder and I jumped. “It feels overwhelming, but once you shift it will settle down. Your brain is learning new ways to process what She’s giving you. Take a deep breath and try to relax.” His tone was soothing, and I tried to focus on it, but She resisted. He moved closer, his grip tightening. “Listen to Her carefully, and let Her take the lead until you get comfortable with each other. The key is to trust Her, Olivia. Don’t fight her.”
I nodded once, then closed my eyes trying to hear Her voice, but there was no sound. Only a soft growl at the base of my throat. Dad released me. “Imagine stepping into a shadow and letting the light fall on Her instead of you. Let Her come out, Olivia.”
I did what he said and imagined moving behind the shadowy shape of the wolf in my mind. Sounds became muffled and the sensation of the cotton robe against my skin disappeared. I had to crouch down to get away from the light source, and when I did, the ground under my hands was cool. I opened my eyes to look down.
Where I once had fingers, there were short narrow canine toes covered with soft grey fur and deep black claws. Dad’s voice spoke in my head, filtered through the muted sounds of the outdoors. “You did great. Relax and let Her have control.”
My vision blurred as I tried to swing my head toward the sound of his voice, but She was pressing me to get out of the open. She wanted the safety of the woods.
Trust me.
The voice was loud, and in response, my whole being gave up and laid prostrate. Seconds later, my paws leapt forward and I hurled toward the tree line, little more than a passenger in my own body. But She was delighted. Her pants and chuffs of joy helped me relax even as the odd sensations and movements of being on all fours and hurtling across the lawn were still registering in my brain. She cataloged every scent, the crack of twigs under my paws, and the way the fading sunlight dappled the ground through the leaves.
The sound of another set of paws came up beside me and I slid sideways, glancing behind me.
“You’re beautiful, sweetheart.” Dad’s voice was slightly echoey but easy enough to understand. “Can you hear me?”
I bounced my muzzle in what I hoped would be interpreted as a yes and he blew playfully out his nose.
“Try words.”
I worked my jaw, but quickly realized I no longer had the capacity to form words. Panic crept up my neck until he nuzzled my shoulder.
“Think them and let Her speak them.” He advised.
I cocked my head at him, thinking, then addressed Her. Tell him I can hear him. Nothing happened so I tried again, this time looking at him.
“I can hear you?” My throat tickled as the words came out in a soft growl.
He sat on his haunches and stomped a paw. “I knew you could do it.” He lowered his head. “Can you hear Her?”
I turned my focus inward and listened. Are you there? Can you talk to me?
I am always with you.
“Yes. She says She’s always with me.” Speaking this way was strange, but I somehow knew it was right.
“She is. She probably won’t use words often, only when the Creator tells Her to.”
A fly buzzed into my ear, and I sat to scratch it. “So how do I talk to Her?” I asked.
He rose and turned deeper into the woods. “You run with Her and learn to listen.” His shoulders shook in what was probably supposed to be a shrug. “You’ll figure it out.” He bounded into the brush. “Come on.”
'Olivia’s Hunt' is unpublished and unedited. These stories may or may not be complete and may end on a cliffhanger. All works are the sole property of Michelle Bolanger and published through Risen Fiction. Copyright 2025 Michelle Bolanger. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be copied or reproduced without written consent from the author.