***

Rafe glanced back at me, then ducked into a small cave entrance about a half-mile from the wolves' den. “You can come in. It's empty,” he called out.

I ducked under the stone lip and was surprised to find a wide cavern beyond. The ground sloped downhill to a flat place about the size of an average living room. The charcoaled remains of an old fire sat near the entrance, while the rest of the cave was littered with pieces of wood, a few scraps of clothing, and what looked like an old bear hide. A camper's cooler sat in one corner, while crystal clear water trickled down the other side to form a tiny pool.

Rafe cupped his hand in the water and drank from it, then motioned for me to do the same. The water was so cool and fresh it tasted like how the bottled water commercials always portrayed their products, the difference being that any brand of bottled water tasted the same to me, while the pool in Rafe's cave tasted like mineral-laced snow fresh from the highest peak. I took another drink and glanced up to find Rafe watching me. Water dripped down my chin and I wiped it away with an embarrassed smile.

He went to the cooler and opened it with the reverence of a child unveiling his most prized possessions. He set out a wind-up radio worn with use, a canteen, a pair of shoelaces, a small Swiss Army knife, a marble, a length of rope, and a battered crayon drawing of a man, woman, and little boy.

My heart slowed when I realized what he showed me. “How long have you been here?”

He picked up the child's drawing and stared at it intently. “Since I was four.”

I didn't know what to say. My stomach twisted and I fought for words, but nothing came.

He ran his fingers softly over the man and woman in the drawing. “I drew this by the campfire while my dad and mom cooked tinfoil dinners. Uncle Mitch and Aunt Diana had come to spend the night with us. Mitch was Dad's only brother and was a great uncle. I was so happy when he came.”

Rafe fell quiet, his eyes distant. I waited in silence, afraid to break his reverie, but also afraid of what his pain-filled gaze would reveal.

He brushed his hair back from his face and looked at the cave ceiling. “I liked to climb. It was a game of ours for me to climb a tree and Dad to find me.” His voice took on a strange tone. “I didn't realize until later that he always found me so easily because he was a werewolf and could just smell me out.”

His brow furrowed and he closed his eyes. “I climbed a tree just outside the light of the fire and waited for Dad to find me. Dad suddenly straightened up and looked me right in the eyes. 'Stay there, Rafey,' he said, as calmly as that. Then they were attacked.”

“By what?” I couldn't keep still. The horror on his face made my skin crawl, and I wanted more than anything to give him a hug and protect him from whatever had happened, but he was still caught in the memory.

“Men with guns, machetes, and knives attacked my parents and aunt and uncle before they could defend themselves. They were shot, then hacked apart while they were still alive.” He rubbed his closed eyes. “My mom screamed again and again, but tree branches were in the way and I couldn't see what they were doing to her. But my dad had fallen below the tree when they shot him. He kept his eyes on mine while they cut off his arms and legs. He mouthed, 'I love you,' before they cut off his head.”

A tear leaked from the corner of his eye, but he seemed not to notice. “I stayed up there for two days, long after they had carried away the bodies and destroyed the campsite.” He turned and looked at me, his golden eyes haunted. “This picture was the only thing they left. It was as if they knew I was out there somewhere.”

“That's horrible,” I said softly. He fell silent and even though he looked at me, I could tell he was seeing something else. I tried to think of anything to take his mind off it. “What about the wolves? How did you come to live with them?”

He blinked and looked around the cave. “Paul, the old alpha,” he paused and glanced at me. “I guess it's weird I named him after my father. It was the only name I could think of at the time.” He gave a sad half-smile. “Paul and his pack came to the remains of the camp and he looked right up at me like my father had. I slid down from the tree, phased into a wolf for the first time in my life, and followed them away.”

“I thought werewolves phase for the first time when they turn seven.”

He shrugged. “Desperate times call for desperate measures. I needed to be a wolf, so I was.” He tipped his head back against the cave wall. “I went back later that night for the picture and found this place to keep it safe.”

“Where did you learn how to speak so well?”

He gestured to the radio. “I began to miss being human, so I would phase and sneak into camps late at night and raid things I could use, like clothes and the radio.” A shadow of a smile touched his lips. “When I got older and more daring, I used to invite myself to their campfires and talk with them, just to enjoy being human for a bit. But I never met another werewolf and I thought I was a fluke.”

“Until you were captured by Tannin's men,” I concluded.

He nodded. “Then it was easier not to speak because I was so used to being silent.”

I was about to ask another question when a deep howl reverberated through the cave. Rafe's face lit up and he glanced at me, then cupped his hands around his mouth and sent back an answering howl. A chill ran through my body at the sound along with a shuddering need to phase and be a wolf.

Rafe gave an understanding smile. “I'll meet you outside.” He disappeared through the cave entrance before I could say anything.

The shudder ran through my body again and I was surprised to find that I was looking forward to phasing and experiencing the wolf side that had been such a part of Rafe's life. Heaviness hung over my thoughts at what he had been through. I couldn't imagine anyone living through that and turning out even remotely normal. The fact that Rafe handled what he had been through at Tannin's hands so calmly showed a depth of animal nature, the instinct to take everything in stride and keep on fighting no matter what. I saw the things I hadn't understood about him before in a new light, and it made me happy that I had chosen to go with Rafe instead of returning to a society of walls and restrictions.

I set my backpack down with the remainder of the supplies and turned the power off on the cell phone, then slid it into the back pocket. I looked at the cave around me while I pulled off my gas station clothes. Rough drawings in charcoal covered the wall at a child's height, changing to stone etchings and intricate paintings with earthen colors as the distance from the floor increased. It was as though I watched him grow up through the drawings on the walls.