My husband won the race fair and square—at least that was the story I intended to stick to. I heard him howl a piercing, triumphant, yet purely animal sound and knew the exact moment that he had reached the stream.

Not wanting to give the wolf reason to come after me, I quickened my pace to it and eventually saw him by the stream, moving anxiously, sniffing the air and calculating my distance. I love my husband, but at the present moment he wasn't Paul. He was the werewolf. ...