I just wanted to take a nice walk through the woods after one of the most stressful days of my life. A brisk stroll, really. 

But no. Now I have to deal with some crazy woman (currently hanging from a tree) who possibly just watched me shift. 

I was sceptical when Mom announced I'd be starting at Havenly High School- my first time in public school after eight years. I had been begging since I was too young to know not to.

 I had given up any hope of yellow buses and playdates after about three years of brain-numbing homeschool. She had decided It was better for the family to keep me at home after Dad had died. Easier to make me the stand-in parent while she was grieving her mate rather than have to deal with another child. 

I would have thought a day I'd been anticipating for over half my life would have been less...terrifying. There were so many people, who had so many smells, and a lot more classes than seemed necessary for one building to hold.

A few of my pack mates had tried to help. Showing me to classes and walking me to school before splitting up for our separate classes. (I've managed to not share a single subject with the bozoos)  

The day would have been overwhelming enough by constantly having to mask my scent without random people badgering me throughout the day. The only reason I even had to shift in the first place was because I was so pent up from suppressing my instincts around humans. 

Which brings me back to the current bane of my existence. Startled eyes grow wider as a small embossed pouch falls from the sky. Her now unshrouded scent hits me hard. Cinnamon and orange fill the small clearing and line my nose with a warm and spicy fragrance. The drawstring bag must have been concealing her scent the same way my wolf hides mine. 

I snap my gaze back to dark eyes and I finally know where I recognize that purple hair. The seat snatcher from before deals me a lopsided (albeit upside-down) grin. I would almost believe she's the perfect picture of arrogance if she weren't dangling from a branch like a life-sized Christmas ornament. 

A growl rumbles through my chest at the nuisance. I was supposed to fetch the twins from pre-school by now but I can't risk leaving and being followed back to pack territory by a...witch? She carries talismans that mask her essence and can track a shifter in their wolf form through the overgrown wilderness, so it feels safe to assume she's some kind of magic user.

As if reading my mind, the haphazard woman begins to speak. 

"Hey," She draws out the vowels, practically singing the word. " I didn't know you liked hanging around in creepy woods during sunset too. It's crazy how much we have in common." 

My lip curls up in a snarl when I realize she's right. The winter sun can barely be seen above twig-ridden treetops. Moms gonna be so pissed. My stalker takes the brief distraction as an opportunity to detangle her legs from the branch they'd been pinched around. Crumbling to the cold ground arms first and pivoting into a hunched crouch. Now that she's at eye level (and the right side up) I can fully appreciate her sharp features; Square face, sharp-slited eyes and a strong jaw. 

In any other situation, I might find her attractive. 

I pace circles around the stranger, trapping her while I decide on my next move. I can't change back, and I can't run through the streets of Havenly as a wolf without some jerk calling pest control. 

I close quarters around the woman, warry as she extends a hesitant hand to carefully pluck the embroidered bag from the undergrowth. 

Her scent immediately recedes, along with the strange smells that came with it. 

With her tang gone, the surrounding aromas of the forest fill my snout. The breeze carries smells of ancient oak trees, migrating sparrows and frozen sap. The sleepy grove seems to sit outside of time, but the darkening sky and bleach-blond pain in my neck remind me of my packed schedule and dependant family. 

Guilt stabs through me at the thought of Cate and Rick shivering on the pavement, waiting in the cold wind for hours while I play cat and dog in the woods. 

I huff out a frustrated sigh, barely containing another growl at the witch. 

We stay in that tense silence for several moments. 

Staring each other down, waiting for the other to break contact and admit failure. I  have to force my wolf to glance away, much to her dismay, at the discarded clothing littering the forest floor. 

I move backwards, paw sliding over paw as I drop to my central gravity and raise my hackles as I slink over to my belongings, still glowering at the stranger as I prepare to make my escape. 

I dip my head to grab my bag and discarded garb between my teeth, deciding to bolt in my wolf form and avoid any damaging confrontations. 

I'm about to reach the edge of the clearing when my wolf hearing picks up on a mumbled Oh no you don't. Glass hurdles through the air and hits the ground in front of me, shattering. A sickly yellow substance oozes out and pools on the frozen mud. I gag at the stench, my wolf jerks and shudders at the stench permeating the air. 

Stars explode across my vision as I'm forced to shift. My wolf cowardly retreats into my psyche, completely at odds with her usual reluctance to transform. 

The only other time I had no control while shifting had been equally as jarring. It had been the first time my wolf had woken up - earlier than most - a year after it had happened.

My human hands clutch at my stomach as I writhe on the ground. A sickening wave of nausea roils through my abdomen and threatens to empty my cafeteria-bought lunch onto an unlucky set of tree roots. 

"Has no one told you it's rude to leave before finishing a conversation," A lilting tone teases from beyond my bush. 

My eyes snap open. Pure furry tinges the surrounding shrubbery varying shades of red. 

I clamber onto unsteady feet before realizing the witling bush acts as a poor modesty screen and quickly sink to my knees. 

The stranger's smirk widens. 

"What the hell is your problem!?"  My voice is hoarse and cracks enough times to startle a murder of crows from their perches from above. Loud keens and caws consume the glade as black wings meld with bruised sky. 

"I'm sorry, but -" I cut her off immediately.

" You forced me to shift! Did you follow me here? I swear I'm gonna kill -" It's her turn to interrupt.

" I did not tramp miles through flee-infested grass for some forsaken wolf to run away with her tail tucked between her legs before I could get a word in." It's said through a teeth-bearing smile, a threat lurking behind her words.

My human instincts are telling me to shuck on my clothes and get as far away from this argument as possible. Unfortunately, my wolf is a beta and doesn't tolerate orders well. (funny, how she gets to tap out  around scary smells, but still has the power to dam me) 

" You stalking piece of -" She has the gaul to shush me. Again.

My mouth widens, ready for a yelling match. Before any sound has the chance to emerge she's already speaking over me.

"Uhuh." 

"I -" 

"Nope" 

" Would you -" 

"Shut it" 

I've managed to reach a new level of exasperation. My lips work hard, but no words are formed by them. My free arm waves and shakes in the air ( Trying to replace English with wild gestures), and my other stays wrapped around my naked torso. 

With hands set on strong hips, the seat snatcher imbues her next words with an amount of attitude and mockery I didn't know was possible. 

"Are you done now, or do you need a time-out before we continue?" The nerve of this woman! 

"I'm not a child." I bark out. She raises an eyebrow, fox grin growing amused. 

"Could've fooled me," the wind tousels her short hair in a way that resembles a rooster throwing around his cockscrown at a hen. 

My eyes narrow in bafflement. She tracked me into the middle of nowhere and has the audacity to further insult me after violating my wolf. I remind her of this, and she...she shrugs, as though she hadn't committed several crimes in the last two hours. 

An icy wind steals the next words out of my mouth, pricing along my skin and raising the hair on my neck. A small shiver steals through me as I'm reminded of my nudeness and the blatantly staring stranger. The cold has nothing to do with the flush that colours my face.

Ignoring the raucous chuckles from beyond the crumbling bush, I grab at the pile of forgotten clothes, struggling to untangle the muddied fabric and narrowly avoiding shards of broken glass. 

"'I'll take that as a no," The voice is closer this time. I have to suppress a gasp as I tilt my head up and nearly smash into eager, beady black eyes. 

"Ugh," I become frantic now, shrugging on jackets without bothering to put a shirt on, returning my attention to the main goal; getting the fuck out of the woods as fast as possible while flashing the least amount of people possible. 

The looming figure is the picture of faux patience. Hands tucked behind her back, shoulders squared and bent at the hip to prop herself over the short hedge. 

After yanking the zipper of my jumper to my chin and hoisting the waistband of my pants past my belly button, I jump to my feet - finally restoring my dominating height over the much shorter witch. 

A Tiny part of me revels in the height difference. My need to high-tail home is much larger though. 

Ignoring my wolf's urge to gloat, I turn on my heel and begin the long walk through ankle-deep foilage. 

The intruder does not take the hint and is at my side before I can make it three steps through the underbrush. 

I pick up the speed and hope to out-manoeuvre my stalker long enough to take refuge in some ally way back in town. 

Alas, she's impossibly fast and gains the upper hand, jogging far enough ahead of me to spin around and walk backwards. Sidestepping low-hanging branches and hopping over bulging roots as though she had eyes in the back of her skull. 

"Not one for chatter, are ya? Fine. I'll start,"  Her tone is smooth and even, even though we're both practically sprinting around shrubbery and fallen logs.  (I'm a born runner, it's in my genetics, and I'm panting). 

" My name's Astra. I'm fifteen, I like long walks through secluded woods in the middle of the night, and my type is  tall dark and annoying." 

 Finally, I can put a name to an extremely irritating face. 

I don't deign her with a response, only grumbling my frustration. 

"This is usually when you tell me your name," The cocky tone is back and so is my migraine.   

I stay silent.

"Don't make me read your mind."   

I narrow my eyes, sceptical. Can witches read minds? She can force a wolf to shift to their human form, intrusive mind-reading seems entirely plausible. 

I decide to play it safe and give her what she wants. 

"Rhina," I mumble my name like it's poison on my tongue. 

Astra's wicked grin widens, threatening to spill over with laughter. 

"What was that, I couldn't hear you over your pout," 

"Rhina," I growl into mirthful eyes. 

"Pretty name for such a sour face," Each word is drawn out like lyrics to a song. It almost makes you forget you're being insulted. 

"Go. Away." I can already hear the cars zipping down main street. I need to ditch the witch soon. 

" I will when you agree," She slows enough to drop back to my side. (Did I say she walks beside me? Because I meant she perpetually melds herself along the side of my body like a bush baby.) 

"Agree to what," I grunt. 

" To be my familiar," She pivots so she faces me again, placing a palm on my chest as if to stop and have 'real talk'. 

I push past her, ready to be home and in bed, and, most importantly, away from psycho-stalking witches. 

"I don't know what that is," I deadpan, "and no." 

" Well, since you asked," Crap, " a familiar is like a...magical bestie," she says it like that's something to be admired. 

" I'm not looking to be anyone's pet," What? I've watched Sabrina. 

"That's a huge misconception. A familiar is a person of age that a witch bonds with on her sixteenth birthday so that her growing powers don't overwhelm and kill her." She says, as though it's the most normal and casual thing to mention. 

"It's a grounding ritual," She continues, "To make sure my expanding magic won't obliterate me as soon as the stars align," 

I let up, stopping in my tracks to praise the witch. 

"That sounds terrible," I concede. 

" That's not even the worst part," She sighs, layering on the drama, "If I can't find the perfect person to perform the ritual with, It defaults to my mother," I wince at the thought of being irrevocably connected to my mother. 

Still, why is this woman's lack of a social life my responsibility? The last thing I need is another obligation. 

"Why is that my problem?" I relent. 

"My charming personality," she remarks with a flutter of long lashes.

"Goodbye,"  

"I'm also a practising witch who can curse your ass six ways to Sunday. Not to mention, I've watched you shift, twice. A fact I doubt the Noctuturns pack would be overly pleased about," She states. The same danger from earlier has returned to her voice. 

"So you're blackmailing me into ownership," I spit the lost word. 

"No, I'm blackmailing you into a... trial period," She shrugs. 

"So much better, thank you," I snort. 

"Look, I don't need you in specific, I just need someone. So...you can either agree to be my familiar in five months, or you can spend that time helping me find a replacement." All previous amusement is gone as she stares me down.

We hold the stare down for another moment before I break. 

"If I agree will you please, let me go home," I'm practically begging now. 

Astra merely steps to the side, grinning wide enough to be seen without any light.