Chapter 1

At first, he could barely smell the lotions that were rubbed on his skin. As the week rolled on, however, their stenches got stronger and he started to be able to pick out the scents of individual herbs. He could only recognize hemlock, though.

He hated it.

Over and over again, he tried to get out. But he had been shackled to the wall, and no amount of thrashing and writhing could get his wrists out of the manacles. He still hadn't figured out what the chains were made of; just that they wouldn't break or tear out of the wall.

At least now he knew what kind of person would hang chains in his house – and had part of the answer to why.

The front door closed. It was Mom, back from her visit with relatives. She had been gone all week, on Dad's request. Pity that he still wasn't done when she returned.

Yeah. Pity. Right.

She opened the door and saw him there, chained to the wall with blood trickling down his wrists and sweat coating his bare chest. Her face twisted into an expression of horror and – oh, please no! – sympathy. She whirled and ran, leaving the door open.

He could hear every word said by both his parents. All too well.

"How could you do this to him? He's your son!"

"All the more reason!" Dad was growling; he'd been doing that a lot at his son, for resisting. "He's strong enough to take it!"

"That's not the point! You promised me that you would be a loving father! What kind of father does that to his son?"

"A wolf, damn it! Ulrich's no good to me as a human!"

The rest didn't matter.

No good, no good…he was losing. He could feel it.

His shoulder had been burning for some time; now the burn had spread. He felt like he was on fire from head to toes, and his bones ached far worse than they ever had before. His jaws were the worst off.

He thrashed in silence for as long as he could, but finally a whimper escaped. It wasn't human.

"Ah, finally…" Dad appeared in the doorway. "Yes, you're doing fine, Ulrich; just let it come. Taste it."

He bared half-human teeth at his dad, giving his wolf-pelt sleeping mat a kick. It didn't go far – the floor sloped toward this closet. However many times he kicked it out, it slid back.

Another stab of pain tore through him, finally forcing from him a sound he hadn't wanted to make…

The wolf's howl…

Ulrich woke with a start and surged up, snapping his teeth hard onto something that yelped. Startled, he blinked the sleep from his eyes and looked past his wolf's muzzle.

It was Odd, staring at him with hurt astonishment and a touch of fear. His right arm was extended towards Ulrich, his hand –

Oh, no…

Ulrich's teeth were gripping that hand, hard enough to pierce the skin. He could taste Odd's blood, hot on his tongue. He let go with a sound midway between a howl and a whimper, jerking away and morphing back to full human.

"What were you doing? Why couldn't you have left me alone?" Ulrich demanded. It was almost a wail.

"You were morphing in your sleep," Odd replied, strangely calm even as his eyes widened in horrified fascination at the fang marks in his hand. "I thought I'd give you an anti-lunar before you wrecked another shirt; you were snapping your teeth so much, I figured I could just drop it in…"

Ulrich shook his head. Now he knew Odd was insane. "Get to Yolanda – tell her what happened – exactly what happened. I'm serious."

Odd swung around toward the door and rushed out. Ulrich tried to tell himself that it was because Odd wanted his bleeding hand bandaged now, and not because he was finally afraid of his roommate. He wasn't sure he believed himself.

Ulrich threw himself back down on his bed and pulled his blankets over his head. He didn't even move when Kiwi dared to jump up on his bed and snuggle up against him. All he wanted was for a Return to the Past to undo this miserable night.

Might as well wish for a Return Trip to undo my entire eight years as a werewolf. The one's as likely to happen as the other.