As I looked down at Cathy, who stared up at me in a mixture of fear, love, and awe, I closed my eyes. “I gotta change back,” I thought. I could feel my panic build, and then a weird calmness came over me. This was what I was meant to be. There was no need to fear it. I could control this if I just concentrated. I didn't make a wish, I didn't even try. I only thought about changing back, and I could feel my muscles beginning to tremble and my body shrinking back to its normal dimensions. I wish I could give you a better description of how it felt, but I can't, beyond saying that it's the absolute weirdest sensation I ever felt.
When I opened my eyes, Cathy immediately gave me a hard kiss. “James..that was..oh wow..” she said, staring at me with undisguised adoration. “You were..oh wow...”
“Oh wow, indeed,” I said, kissing her again. I smiled. All the worry I had about being a werewolf was gone, to the point that it felt silly to have ever worried at all.
“Do I even need to explain how that totally shouldn't have happened?” she asked. “Any new werewolf with or without our condition NEEDS the full moon for their first shift. What just happened LITERALLY has never happened in the modern history of werewolves.” Her face showed a mix of wonder with the barest hint of concern. “And your presence..James...” she reached out to stroke my cheek, “holy shit..your PRESENCE..looking into your eyes, it was..it was like staring out at the full moon..”
I laughed softly as I leaned into her touch. “So I take it that isn't normal?”
Cathy looked at me like I was retarded. “No, James, it's not.” It was a flat, deadpan stare. Her finger playfully jabbed my ribs. “But I think even YOU realize that,” she said with that girlish giggle she always seemed to get when she was genuinely happy. “But no..that's again, literally never happened, at least not to me. I have heard about situations where an alpha has managed to force an omega to change with their presence...but..” she frowned. “Those aren't good situations.”
“What's an omega?” I asked. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew what she was talking about, like a distant memory, but I couldn't recall it.
“An omega is the bottom of the pack hierarchy. In most packs, you have the alpha male, and an alpha female. Usually they're mated, but not always. Sometimes it's a business arrangement, or a formal social contract designed to be a compromise between two packs that have territory overlap. Depending on pack size, there's between one and four betas, with no real set rules about gender or whatnot. Those are basically the most trusted friends of the alphas, though sometimes you'll see a rival of the alpha attain beta status in the pack. Usually it's either a sign of confidence by the alpha, like 'you're no threat to me' or respect, like 'you're a prick, but it would be wrong not to acknowledge your strength'.”
It was almost like she was lecturing me, like a teacher would. Like a good student, I listened, wanting to absorb the knowledge. Though in the back of my mind, I continued to have the nagging feeling I knew all of this once. It was less like she was teaching me and more like she was reminding me.
“The rest of the pack members don't have titles, generally speaking, beyond things that might denote their duties, like 'pack record keeper' or things like that. But the omega..that's a punishment. It means that you're the bottom of the bottom. You're worthless. You're trash. In any reasonable pack, the only way you're getting that distinction, that..INSULT,” her face showed revulsion, “is if you betrayed the pack to such a degree that they considered killing you. And so, in those cases, there's such a difference in dominance that on rare occasions, I've heard of an alpha being able to force an omega to change.”
“But I didn't force you,” I replied.
“No, you didn't,” Cathy agreed. “You freed me.” She touched my chest lightly and gently kissed my lips, then laid her forehead against mine. I couldn't say how long we stood there in silence, with her body against mine, just enjoying the soft embrace.
She pulled away for a second. “I'm uhh..gonna go clean myself up a bit. Cold jizz on the skin isn't exactly the best feeling in the world.” She smiled and we both laughed at the awkward and candid statement.
I started to grab my clothes only to remember they'd been quite shredded in the rut. “I wish I had a spare set of clothes here,” I absentmindedly said. I heard the sound of something dropping behind me, something made out of fabric. I turned around, and saw a fresh shirt and pair of shorts, along with boxers. Wait..the ring was working again?
As I started to get dressed, Cathy came back out. I could see the confusion on her face, and I simply said, “I had a spare set in my car.” She nodded, accepting it at face value. I slipped my shorts on, when my stomach made a loud rumbling sound, and I was acutely aware of how hungry I was.
“Sounds like somebody's hungry,” Cathy said, wrapping an arm around me. “How about I make us dinner?” she asked. Everything about her body language had changed toward me since I'd knotted her.
There was no more conflict in it, where she'd seem happy, only to pull away and deny herself. She was comfortable with me, and strangely enough, seemed more comfortable with herself.