Wolf

The rain started slowly. The day began with the weather being overcast, the smell a heavy, yet clean, summer breeze filling the air. Tree leaves effaced to signal an impending storm. It notified everyone to head indoors and wait until it passed.

Francesca hurried across the field to her quaint cabin just near the edge of the forest. Fallen foliage ruffled around her ankles as she continued her journey home. A great gust of wind played with her hair, throwing it over her eyes. She wiped it away and huddled further into her rain jacket.

Her cabin was in sight. The thought of curling up beneath her blankets with a cup of hot tea satisfied her desires of comfort. A howl of wind alarmed her. Drizzling drops of rain plopped on her head.

The onset of rain pummeled down just as she swung her door open and walked inside. Closing her door, she sighed with relief that she was not going to get soaked. The last time she had walked home from work, she had entirely misjudged the weather and was a sopping wet mess of mud and rain.

This time; however, she endured just a few inconvenient drops of rain.

The shower proved to be the medicine she needed after a long day of work. Her pajamas were a pair of sweatpants and a tank-top, a sweater over top. She was comfortable. All she needed was a cup of hot tea and some warm blankets and she was set to fall asleep in the comfort of her own home.

Settling down on the couch, she snuggled beneath her blankets and a sigh passed her lips. A couple of sips of tea later, and her eye lids were drooping low.

The rain lulled her in a rhythmic pattern to fall asleep.

A loud bang on her door frightened her awake. She figured it was a branch from a tress against her roof knocking. She had experienced this before, yet her roof never caved in. Her heart skipped a few beats as it jumped in her throat. Ignoring the sound, she huddled further beneath the covers.

Another loud bang threatened her door. More came after signaling that there was no branch; rather someone, or something, was at her door.

Scrambling out from beneath her warm safety net, she walked tot he door in a manner that didn't allow her feet to make a sound. She didn't trust this uninvited stranger. She grabbed an umbrella from beside the door and readied it to take action.

Looking through the peephole, she saw the stature of a tall and broad man, about ready to pound on her door once again. His face was covered by the hood he wore. She couldn't smell him through the rain, but no one threatening came to her door anymore. The pack wherein she lived prior didn't afford her the same luxury.

Before he could make another move, Francesca opened the door just a peak. "Hello?" Her voice timid and unsure. She cursed herself quietly, wishing she had more of an authoritative tone. Her wolf bristled at the thought of anyone coming into her space; her own private territory that became their sanctuary.

"I'm sorry to intrude, ma'am, but I got caught in the storm on the way to the House," the man explained. His voice was deep and low, a slight tinge of an unrecognizable accent peaking through his words.

She was aware that not many people, outside of those who lived here, called the Pack House solely "The House." It was a term coined by one of the members haphazardly one day and it stuck. Most other packs would pick austere names to display their pack's power and money.

This pack did not find it necessary.

The Norse Pack was one of power and discipline, yet they did not need to name structures within their land to show their own abilities. Their leader's hearts and minds spoke for themselves.

Her eyes diverted to the unrecognizable car parked in front of her cabin. It's tires were muddied and looked to be sinking into the earth as the rain continued to pour.

His eyes followed hers, looking back at the stuck car and rubbed his cheek with the palm of his hand. "Not the best car for this type of weather, huh? I should've come back with the truck." His tone held a bot of humor and sarcasm.

Her eyes diverted back to the stranger in front of her. He may know what their pack house is called, but she refused to allow this man in without proper identification.

Noticing her reluctance to start a conversation or even let him in, he took down his hood and introduced himself. "My name's Leif Helvig."

Her eyes blinked at him, uncertainty gleaming in them. She's never heard of him before. She recently moved from her old pack a few months ago, seeking sanctuary here. Granted, she didn't know most of the members, but this encounter was rather strange.

Seeing her hesitation, Leif cleared his throat and continued, "I am returning from a duty I recently completed. May I seek refuge in your home?"

Francesca was petrified of this man. His stature hard stature screamed his lethality. The broadness of his shoulders would hot the sides of her entryway and his head would have to duck or else he would surely hit the top. His blue eyes were bright even against the darkness of the storm surrounding them.

His words were kind enough, yet his body stated a different meaning. Her mind raced with the possibilities of his duty he had completed. Perhaps he maimed hundreds of women and children begging for help. His hands seemed large enough to crack the neck of a trained warrior.

That's what he was: a warrior. His body was poised and he looked to be comfortable in his own skin. She noticed a scar starting near the right corner of his bottom lip down beneath wetness of his shirt.

While Francesca was sizing her opponent up, Leif was doing the same to her. He was sure this woman wasn't trusting of him even while he spoke the truth. Unfortunately, the rain washed over the earth so heavily that the heady scent covered up anything that was spoken. She couldn't sense if he was lying or not.

He could not blame this striking woman's reluctance. He knew his height and width was an intimidation factor. It was especially useful for his jobs he was sent to complete by his Alpha. He performed his role well up to the most excellent degree. Yet he became slightly insecure with the woman before him.

"Please," he started again, "I promise I mean you no harm." He put his palms in a supine position before him. He would not hurt this female. He was becoming increasingly chilled and wanted to warm up as soon as possible by whatever means necessary.

"Empty your pockets, please," she stated.

Baffled, Leif ran his hands up and down his body in search for weapons. He even went as far as taking off his shoes and socks. He provided her his wallet and keys, even a knife he carried wherever he went for back-up purposes.

She took his wallet and looked at the strange man's license. Leif Helvig it read just above his date of birth and characteristics. His signature was scrawled just underneath of his name. Goddess, even his license displayed this man's rugged beauty.

Before she could think any further, she closed the wallet and handed it back to him. "Before you come in, either put your knife in your car, or throw it from here."

He chuckled in surprise. "Excuse me?" He was unused to anyone, besides his Alpha, giving him commands.

She lifted a brow. He conceded and put on his soaking socks and shoes before returning to his car and putting away his trusted knife. Either this woman was crazy, or she was protecting herself beyond measure.

He figured it was the latter as her blue eyes were widened in fear and speculative. He would probably react in the same manner if he were a woman and a bulky man showed up unannounced in the middle of a storm.

Upon stepping onto the porch, he shook his hair filled with rain out and twisted the bottom of his shirt and shorts to get as much water out as possible.

She opened the door wider and silently allowed him to come into her humble cabin.