Chapter 3 March 20th

***

"Keep running, and whatever you do, don't look back...do you understand me, Raven?" The familiar, comforting sound of a stranger's voice echoes through my blurred dream. I'm standing somewhere amongst the trees, bound to a fate that I can't change no matter what I do. Somewhere off in the darkness of a forest, cloudy silhouettes hunched close to the ground inch closer and closer to me, but that's all I can see.

It's all I ever see.

"Shit...you have to shift!" he shouts once more, but I've given up trying to respond, remember or recognize my protector. It's been too long at this point. Too many years of trying and coming up empty handed.

"I love you Rae, you can do this without us..." He offers one final plea before the sensation of waking reality pulls me back.

***

I gasp for air and clutch the white sheets of my bed in hand. I stare at the popcorns ceiling for a moment and try to steady my breathing just as I do every other morning. I comb my fingers through my long, wavy black hair and pause at my temples to massage my fingertips against them.

Every single night since I was 16 years old, I've had the same exact dream. Someone's frantic voice is calling to me, begging me to shift and leave them behind. We dart through the darkness and approach an open clearing in the middle of the night, but I never see their face. I don't discover what happens afterwards, and it's just another one of the many memories I'll never be able to revive. Another piece of my past and history as a shapeshifter that I'll never discover.

Unfortunately, none of this is a foreign concept to me. For the past nine years, I have struggled to remember the first sixteen years of my life. I have pushed my mind to its absolute limit in an attempt to get some type of memories to come forward, but they never do. The first few years, I racked my brain all day, every day as I desperately clung to the idea that maybe...just maybe, I'd remember something. But after a while, I gave up. The way I look at it, I am twenty four going on twenty five years old and if I haven't even had a glimpse of any reveries at this point in my life, I seriously doubt that I ever will. Nine years of trying, hoping and praying only to come up fruitless will kill that dream, trust me.

I let out a deep sigh as bright rays of sunshine peak through my ivory drapes and stream into my eyes, temporarily blinding me and forcing me to get out of bed. I groan in protest before swinging my legs over the edge and extending my arms above my head to stretch. I yawn profusely due to the lack of sleep I so often experience and shuffle my way into my bathroom.

The door to my bedroom flies open and I feel my heart stop in my chest. "I can't even believe you're actually up right now. It must be some sort of Spring Solstice miracle," Tessa points out in her usual upbeat voice.

"Do you really need to burst in here without knocking every time you need something?" I roll my eyes only to continue to the original task of brushing my teeth.

"Uhh, yes? Is that even a real question?" she mater-of-factly answers.

"Guess not..." I mumble through my toothbrush. Tessa and I have been living together since we were sixteen years old and we basically picked up right where we left off in the friendship department. Once I came out of my coma, I still don't remember anything about her before the age of sixteen, but my level of comfortability around her stayed. She's the only person I know whose physical touch and presence doesn't bother me at all. As far as our friendship goes, the theory of 'opposites attracting' certainly applies. Her disposition is about as subtle as a loaded gun and she always speaks her mind, but it is a much needed trait to balance out my more passive nature. I don't really like conflict, or people for that matter, so I tend to avoid confrontation like the plague.

Tessa walks over to my cherry wood wardrobe and yanks the second drawer from the top open. She scours the contents to find me something suitable to wear until she zeros in on a pair of leggings, a green tank top and a light jacket. She tosses them to me as I exit the bathroom and sigh loudly, proceeding to put them on.

I'm not looking forward to this day at all and Tessa knows it.

Today's date is March 20th, 2018, the first day of the Spring Solstice. Not only is it the date that marks the beginning of Spring, it also symbolizes our first quarterly cluster gathering of the year.

A 'cluster' is essentially a fancier term for a 'pack' when referring to shapeshifters instead of werewolves, although we aren't nearly as close when it comes to the familial connections. Werewolf packs are generally bound together so tightly that they can hear each other's thoughts through mind-linking, they'd defend one another to the ends of the earth and are one big glorified family. Shapeshifters, on the other hand, aren't typically so tightly knit. We tend to live a more solitary lifestyle than pack-oriented werewolves and we only congregate together when it's necessary. I couldn't tell you where half of the people in Noctis live, what they like to do for fun or any personal information about them. I see these strangers four times per year and I hardly know most of them from one another.

So, this is how we've arrived at Exhibit A; the quarterly cluster meetings.

For some reason completely unbeknownst to me, my entire cluster, known as the Noctis cluster, crams twenty-something of us into the fancy ballroom of Noctis Manor for a glorified 'meeting of the minds' every three months.

Let me take a moment to put this in perspective for you.

Imagine that you're attending a family reunion with a bunch of distant relatives; all twice removed, most boasting a shitty sense of entitlement and some who are just plain weird. You've got the creepy uncle who won't stop staring at you, the annoying bitchy cousins that think the world revolves around them, and the aunts who won't shut the fuck up about how much you need to find 'a nice, shifter man' to settle down with. The entire time, you have to paint on this fake smile and pretend like you've missed them all oh-so-much when really, you've been enjoying the solitude. Every moment of relative peace, quiet and freedom that you've experienced not spent in their presence has been a blessing.

But wait, there's more!

In addition to being forced into enjoying each other's company, we are all obligated to keep our mouths shut for the next four to six painstaking hours as Zander, our averagely built, temporary Alpha drones on endlessly about anything shifter related. The highly stimulating topics range from strategic plans, running surveillance, avoiding detection by other supernatural entities, to how we should wipe our asses. Unfortunately, one of his main demands is to show up for each and every quarterly meeting without question, rain or shine. So I do, but it doesn't mean that I have to enjoy or like it in any way, shape or form.

Does it sound like fun yet?

If you say yes, I would have to let out the world's most genuine laugh and highly disagree with you. Every time I think about the inevitable Noctis cluster congregation, I want to run away and never return. Especially today. Sooner than I care to admit, I am set to take my rightful place as the Alpha of my cluster, and this is our last meeting before that happens. Stepping up as Alpha is a position that I neither qualify for nor want in the first place and the thought of taking over just makes me want to disappear. I can barely even keep myself afloat, let alone the entirety of Noctis.

What I want or desire doesn't matter though; by right of blood, I am required to ascend at the age of 25. Someone can challenge me for the title, but no one will. They're all far too passive to make that dream of mine become a reality. Even though I was born to be a leader, that's not how I feel inside and I don't particularly want to be the head of a group of people I don't connect with.

"Do you think Zander would notice if we just didn't show up?" I grumble as we make our way towards the old wooden stairs of our dated home. It's a wood-frame dwelling built in the 1920′s that constantly needs to be tented for termites, but the rent is cheap and it's in our territory. Beggars can't be choosers.

"He will absolutely notice," Tessa huffs as she reaches the bottom of the stairs. She skips ahead to pull the front door open, beaming at me over her shoulder. "Now, less bitching, more shifting!"

I sigh as we make our way down the faded white steps of the front porch and out into the sea of brown yard space. Tessa immediately begins stripping off her pink jacket while we crunch through the dead grass and head into the woods. The old decaying leaves from the previous winter audibly crumble underneath my boots and I draw in a deep breath, enjoying the smell of the outdoors. All of the dense pine trees and cedar are finally beginning to gain their color back, tiny chutes of green leaves and needles lining the treetops. I gaze up towards the clear blue sky and smile, knowing that in a few short minutes I will finally have two hours of pure, unfiltered happiness in my life. After our brief fifteen minute walk, we finally reach a clearing in the center of the woods and Tessa begins to remove the rest of her clothing. She heaps it all into a little mountain and stands naked in front of me, stretching out with a huge smile on her face.

She drops to the ground and begins shifting into her animal of choice; an oversized Canadian Lynx. Her skin starts splitting apart in all places, giving way to dark grey fur spanning across her entire body. Pointed ears accented with black fur expand on top of her head, and a short bob tail shoots out from her back. Her arms and legs transform into long limbs and paws, the bones stretching and reforming. Within a matter of seconds, her shift is complete as she stands before me and gently shakes out the fur of her newly transformed body.

As shapeshifters, we have the ability to shift into almost any animal, so long as we have come in physical contact with it before. The exception to that rule being humans, insects, and oddly enough, wolves. The possibilities are vast, but most of us mainly stick to a few animals; this is for two main reasons.

First, the transition becomes easier and quicker the more we shift into one animal. It's not exactly a comfortable transformation in general, but it does get significantly less taxing if you pick one and stick with it. The second reason is that we usually connect with a specific animal or two and don't really feel the need to shift into anything else. Tessa is a cat lover at heart and due to her job at the local Big Cat Sanctuary, she has the ability to shift into almost every large cat that you can think of. Tigers, mountain lions, bobcats, panthers, jaguars. You name it, she can shift into it. But out of all the felines, her favorite seems to be a Canadian Lynx, so she tends to select that more often than not.

Now, it's my turn.

I begin picturing a medium-sized black bird in my mind. I envision its glossy black feathers with a light bluish tinge, it's talons as they grasp onto a tree branch swaying in the breeze.

I think about a raven, to be precise.

My body quickly begins to transform as my arms shrink inward, the bones becoming less dense and more hollow. Before I know it, tiny goosebumps filled with feathers scatter across my bare skin and two of my limbs are now wings. My legs rapidly degrade in size as scaled black talons expand from where my feet once were. My teeth recede and my mouth forms into a pointed beak, my nose disappearing into two small holes atop my feathered face. In a matter of seconds, my transition is complete. The anxiousness to fly sets in and I flap my wings to begin my ascent above the treetops. I drive upwards through the branches and break free, surveying all of our surroundings. Tessa runs beneath me, clearly enjoying the feeling of extended stamina, heightened senses and peace. I effortlessly glide through the air, doing a quick barrel roll with excitement before straightening back out.

This right here; soaring above the treetops without a care in the world, having the ability to go anywhere I please with a simple flap of my wings. This is freedom, and it's the one thing I desperately want, but will never truly have.

Countless members of my cluster have always wondered why my shift of choice is a small raven. They don't understand why my preference is a tiny bird when I could be any other animal of my choosing. I could select something fierce like a bear, stealthy and quick like a fox, or even a bird of prey like an eagle - but they aren't me. Ravens are the one animal I truly connect with, and I couldn't even tell you why. I'm already locked in place in nearly every aspect of my life, so it only seems fitting that I pick an animal within my comfort zone.

I am bound to Noctis as their future leader whether I like it or not, and it isn't something that I can simply walk away from. Even more important than that; my mind is its own form of hellacious purgatory. Sixteen years of memories have been completely blocked and essentially flushed down the toilet. No matter how hard I try, I can never remember anything from before I was that age. So for me, the only sliver of freedom that I will ever temporarily be able to enjoy is in the form of a bird. For just a moment, I can close my eyes and pretend that I am letting my wings carry me to a faraway place with no specific destination.

Somewhere I can be free of this hell that I call my life and my mind.

•••

All too soon, the feeling of autonomy that I experience while soaring through the air is quickly snuffed out when the daunting peaks of Noctis Manor come into my frame of view. The trees gradually begin to thin out, giving way to sprawling fertilized grass, immaculately trimmed hedges and shrubbery surrounding the grey mansion. The Manor was built sometime in the early 1900′s, so it's got that old block foundation, cone pointed building tops and bleak looking charcoal shingles that give it a 'Haunted Mansion at Disney' sort of vibe. I grew up here for almost sixteen years with my family when my parents were in charge, but I obviously don't remember any of that. The only thing that I do know for sure is that every time I see this building come into view, I shudder a little bit inside. Not because I can remember anything about my time on this piece of property, but because of what I've heard happened to my family and I here.

That's one thing I never wish to remember.

I gradually begin descending towards the ground behind a thin veil of trees, landing on the soft grass with a gentle flap of my wings. Tessa closes in right behind me and drops our clothes to the ground before her. I double over onto the earth and the tips of my wings begin to form into fingers that grasp onto the cool grass. My talons slowly begin to lose their hardness and I feel them softening back into human legs. I stand up from my hunched over position as the last of my transition takes place. I shake out the dark tendrils of my hair, pulling it back into a messy bun. I bend down and grab my clothes that now have a small amount of Canadian Lynx spit on them and quickly toss everything on. I glance over at Tessa who is now fully clothed as well and notice the long line of cars parked in the driveway. She also sees the congregation of cars and lets out a sharp sigh.

"Great, we're running half an hour late," Tessa grumbles with annoyance. "We'd better get inside to avoid Zander's lecture about how we're never on time."

I open my mouth to make some sort of smartass comment, but the sound of shuffling feet approaching from behind me stops the words from leaving my mouth. I turn around to face the Manor as Zander walks with a purpose in our direction. I paint on the fakest smile that I can muster and apologetically smile because I have to. He's giving me the look of irritation I often receive when I'm not here on time.

Zander McCain is average in pretty much every way. He stands at about 5′9″ with short salt and peppered hair, a body type that falls into the healthy percentile and deep-set brown eyes rimmed with fine lines and wrinkles. He's a nice enough guy, he means well and always puts the cluster first, but damn does he annoy the ever living shit out of me. His approach to running Noctis is essentially convincing everyone to avoid all other supernatural entities (namely werewolves). We've been told to run like hell if we come in contact with any of them. He doesn't believe in using our shifting abilities to defend ourselves and his main selling point is that keeping us alive is more important than teaching us to fight. So, if we get into a situation where we have to choose fight or flight, he wants us to always choose flight. He's essentially the reason why our cluster has become so complacent and soft. Supposedly Noctis used to be a little fiercer, but that seems to have fallen by the wayside when Zander temporarily took over as Alpha. Despite my issues with him, he is still our current leader. We are all bound to his command and forced to obey.

"You're late...again," he states and I nod my head in acknowledgement.

"I know, I apologize. We got held up," I reply with an innocent smile even though I'm not actually sorry. If it were up to me, I'd never have showed up to a single one of these events and he knows it.

Zander huffs at my empty apology and turns on his heel, starting back towards the manor at a quick pace. Tessa and I follow suit and I sigh as the three of us approach the ten foot archways of the painted glass doors leading into the ballroom. Zander props the door open and ushers us inside. We enter the room and my tan Uggs quietly slide across the cream marbled tiles. The warm, beige painted drywall and staggered variety of paintings lining the walls always makes me feel like I am walking through the old British parliament. The standard sensation of eyes glued to me as we immerse ourselves in the other cluster members only makes me want to hightail it out of here even more. Tessa and I strategically position ourselves at the back of the crowd like always. I hate being the center of attention, but that's about to reach a screeching halt. In three short months, I won't have a choice in the matter.

A few random people flash me some fake smiles or offer little exaggerated waves of excitement, so I simply nod my head and smile back in response. Tessa files in to my left hand side and sighs, stuffing her palms into the front pocket of her hoodie. My eyes follow Zander as he skirts around the crowd of people who are all softly chatting with one another. He walks up onto the split stairwell so he is strategically positioned on a higher level than everyone else and he gazes out at the crowd. He likes to have the ability to lock eyes with each and every one of us to ensure that we are paying attention, especially me.

"Greetings everyone, and thank you all for coming to the first quarterly meeting of the year!" he bellows out, excitedly grinning from ear to ear.

Yeah, it's not like we had much of a choice buddy.

"As you know, we have quite a few things to discuss today, so I won't waste any of your time with small talk...there seems to have been some recent werewolf activity in the area directly bordering our territory, so I'd like you all to use caution, even while operating inside of our boarders. So far, I'm not sure why there has been an influx, but rest assured that I am looking into it. I know I've said this many times before, but I will say it again - if you happen to come in contact with a werewolf, I do not want any of you to engage them physically or verbally. There are countless reasons we don't coexist with one another and I aim to keep it that way for our own safety," he explains. "The only thing wolves want from us is to see our species go extinct. We have known this for centuries, and killing us is nothing more than a game to them...almost nine years ago, we were reminded of this fact the hard way when we lost our dear Nathaniel, Nadia, and Alexander." His face drops with sadness as he mentions my family. Like clockwork, people start turning around to face me, shooting me their rehearsed, sympathetic smiles and downtrodden stares. Meanwhile, I bite my tongue so hard that I taste iron. Zander always brings up my deceased parents and brother which, in turn, causes everyone in the room to give me these solicitous, pitying looks. He forces me to be the center of attention. He does this at every single meeting, and I can only react one of two ways;

The first reaction – act like I am visibly upset while staring at the ground, feigning dejection. I frown and bear it while everyone in the room gazes at me with empathy.

The second reaction - I snap and tell him to shut the fuck up. I tell him to quit making me the focal point, to let my deceased family exist as just that. Deceased.

Trust me, I know the latter sounds harsh, but do you know how hard it is to miss people that you can't even remember? I miss the concept of my family, I miss what that blood connection represented and how happy I'm sure I was when they were alive, but that's about it. I can't long for the things that I don't know I experienced. More accurately, I can't miss what I don't remember.

But, me being my usual passive self, I simply do the same thing that I always do in this situation. I go with option one, accepting everyone's misplaced sympathy because it's easier this way. There is far less conflict and drama if I unambiguously follow along with the reaction he wants from me, so I bite the bullet and let it go.

"Now, onward to the next topic up for discussion today - " he states with a renewed sense of purpose, effortlessly flowing into his next subject.

Tess reaches over and grabs my hand while Zander's voice fades off in the background, giving it a little reassuring squeeze. She knows exactly how I feel about this entire situation, but she also knows there is nothing we can do about it. Trying to change the meticulous way Zander functions and runs Noctis is an impossibility. Any adjustments to his way of running things won't happen while he is in charge. It will only take root once I am thrown into the Alpha position and I force change onto everyone.

Unless I disappear into the night and live as a rogue, never paying these people another thought.

That's always a valid option