by Bella Colt
I know its Wolf’s instinct causing this intense reaction, and I let him have this moment as we follow her from school. He needs this. I can sense happiness radiating from him that wasn’t there before. I'm careful to stay a discrete distance from her, but it's damn near impossible to fight against instinct. A lesser wolf would’ve just claimed her first and explained later. Even though I know she’s different, it’s not hard to smell the she-wolf on her. Watching her walk home like this makes me feel like a stalker, but I must know more about her before I can attempt to meet her again. I need to learn how to make a good impression on her because I know I won’t be able to stay away from her for long. As time progresses in this form, it's getting harder to keep Wolf under control because he is pushing me to the background of our subconscious.
Suddenly, she stops in her tracks on the sidewalk and slowly turns in a full circle, almost as if she can sense that someone is watching her. I watch her hungrily as she turns her face up to the sky. Her hood falls back enough to see her pale face and big eyes.
“I must be crazy!” She says. Speaking so quietly, that if I were a human, I wouldn’t hear her.
She shakes her head and continues on her way. Just being this close has Wolf in a horny fit and he's making it hard to concentrate by dominating my vision with X-rated images of her. Mmmm… those lips of hers they look so soft and fuckable. I can’t help but be curious if she tastes as good as she smells. Fucking Wolf!
‘Stop that shit, I need to concentrate!’ I scold him with a mental growl.
‘Mate! Claim!’ He demands.
I internally sigh. His kind of logic doesn’t work in a modern society but try explaining the culture, evolution, and other changes in the human world to a wolf.
‘You have a one-track mind, calm down!’ I sneer mentally, getting frustrated with this fight already.
Regaining my focus, I watch her as she crosses the main street and enters a rundown looking duplex. It is the sort of place most people avoid. The most unsavory people live there. Staying in the shadows, I sit down and watch a male, about Amara’s age, enter the duplex about ten minutes after her. It’s a little after three and still too bright out. The clouds are out, darkening the November sky, but there is too much light to get closer. I settle down behind some trees across the street and close my eyes to help me focus on hearing what’s going on in the house. Perks of being a werewolf, I think with a smile. Or perhaps a snarl, since that is most likely what it looks like to humans.
Chapter 8: Amara
I'm filled with relief when I walk into the apartment, and no one is home. Gradually, I release the breath that I started holding when I began twisting the doorknob. I'm always walking on eggshells here, and it's utterly exhausting. I walk through the dirty living room, furnished with Bob’s brown-stained La-Z-Boy that I believe had initially been an off-white fabric. I don’t even want to know what it takes to make stains that dark. Luckily, we also have a recycled black love seat that we got from a neighbor as they were moving out. There is no television anywhere to be seen, just an old radio that still has large circular knobs to scan the stations. The receiver sits next to a lamp with no shade on a side table next to Bob’s chair. An old upturned milk crate, acting as a coffee table, is covered in dirty dishes.
Ignoring the nasty feeling the room gives me, I walk down the hallway, past the bathroom, and into my bedroom. Turning my back on Derrick’s ugly Death Metal Posters, covering his bedroom door, I shut mine behind me. I’m wishing my lock worked especially since Bob has been going out and drinking more. Typically, by the time he stumbles his drunk ass home, he is in a more touchy and vulgar mood. I don’t get much sleep on those nights. I’m kept awake with fear from the subsequent sounds coming through the thin walls. I just hope that he doesn’t get worse before I can finally leave. I mentally send up a quick prayer begging that I can leave this place before things get terrible, though I’m not a deeply religious person.
As I plop down on my bed, I begin pulling out my books to do homework when I hear the front door open. My breath catches while I wait and listen. The door then slams shut, and I jump up off my bed and out of habit, I stand up and put my head down.
“Amara, where in the hell are you?” Derrick yells across the tiny apartment.
“Shit!” I whisper.
Derrick is the lesser of the two evils. He hasn’t touched me physically in any way, thankfully. I feel like Derrick holds himself back. Probably because I do my best not to make him mad, but he is insanely good at verbal abuse and "foster parent of the year," Bob ultimately encourages it. Talk about a sociopath in training. Unfortunately, because he’s a guy, I must do whatever he says, or Bob will punish me. I would much rather deal with Derrick than Bob, any day.
“Right here,” I say walking out of my room keeping my head down.
“Took you long enough lazy ass. Make me a sandwich and do it right this time or I'm gonna fuck you up!” Derrick threatens eyes gleaming menacingly.
He is obviously enjoying himself. I don't even think to hesitate; instead, I walk quickly to the fridge as I try and control my shaking body.
Something is different with Derrick today; he has never threatened me so directly or looked as happy as he does right now. My body’s fight or flight response is telling me to run, but where would I go?
So, I make him a turkey sandwich with cheese, mayonnaise, and mustard with the crust cut off and I pour him a glass of milk. I hastily take the lunch to Derrick, who’s sitting on the couch, and place the drink on the crate in front of him. He takes two bites of the sandwich and then a big gulp. Instantly, he spits out the milk causing it to spray everywhere but mostly in my face.
“You stupid fucking bitch, do you think it’s funny to give me expired milk?
You did that on purpose, didn’t you!” He screams, looking at me with murderous intent.
His calm smile twists the hard knot in my gut as my breath rapidly saws in and out of my lungs.
'Oh, fuck!'
I’m so scared, completely frozen in fear by the look on his face, that my gaze is glued to his.
‘MOVE,’ I scream to myself mentally.
As he stands up from where he is sitting on the couch, I am completely frozen. I watch as he cocks back his arm, with the glass of milk still in hand, and throws it at me as hard as he can. Before I can blink, the glass is making contact with my face. The pain is excruciating, causing me to lose my balance. I fall to the ground, for the third time today, with an audible thud and immediately start feeling a warm thickness spreading down my face. My head is in so much pain; I can’t even tell if the blood is coming from my nose or my forehead.
Black dots are blurring my vision as I feel, more than see, Derrick standing over me. His intentions are clear. I feel the hair being ripped out as he grabs a handful and lifts me off the ground before I hear the door smash open. I thought I heard banging, but I just assumed it was my head throbbing. Derrick quickly releases his grip of my hair, causing me to fall back to the ground.
'I'm so sick of falling on my ass today’ I think, as I moan in pain and my vision starts losing focus.
As I succumb to the darkness, the last thing I hear is a loud feral growl.
Chapter 9: Declan
I am listening to what is going on inside Amara’s house after the boy enters, and immediately I don’t like what I hear.
“Amara, where in the hell are you?” the male yells across the tiny apartment.
“Shit; right here.” I hear her say quietly from a different room.
Then I hear him call her lazy and order her to make him a sandwich before threatening her. The tone he uses makes my stomach churn.
‘Kill! It’s our right; he threatened our mate!’ Wolf screams in my head.
‘We can’t just barge in there and tear him up...What would she think of us?’ I point out.
I take a deep breath to calm myself, so I can listen more intently. I hear a fridge open and close a few times, then I hear feet shuffling
along the floor and glass being set down on a table. A few moments of silence pass, but I can smell the fear coming from the apartment. It’s her fear. It has permeated the air surrounding the whole apartment building, making my hairs stand on end. I'm done fucking waiting for something bad to happen to her. I start prowling towards the apartment when I hear the male spit fluid out of his mouth.
“You stupid fucking bitch, do you think it’s funny to give me expired milk? You did that on purpose, didn’t you!” The male shouts.
I can taste and feel her fear as it sends shockwaves through me as if it’s exploding from her physically. I’m across the street and running, grateful that I’m in wolf form because it means I will get there quickly. I'm halfway to her door when I hear glass shattering against something and then hear a muffled feminine cry immediately followed by the smell of blood. I know it isn’t his blood because of the sweet non-human scent.
‘Ours... injured!’ Wolf yelps in my mind.
The need to overpower me and to protect her is driving him insane. I run at a full sprint into the door, causing it to fall to the ground with a resounding BOOM! Once I'm inside, I hear her moan in pain on the floor, and I instantly want to kill him! Amara is covered in so much blood she’s barely recognizable. The scum is standing over my mate, so I let out a loud growl. His face turns white, and I can smell him pissing himself. Wolf is wickedly laughing in my head as I jump onto the male who dares to touch what is mine!
‘WHAT IS OURS!’ Wolf quickly amends my thoughts.
‘Mine!’ I repeat.
I’m not entirely ready to share yet, and I fear what Wolf will do if he gains full control of our shared consciousness.
As I complete the distance, I latch onto the male’s throat, sinking in my fangs as I bring him to the ground with the force of my body weight. I shake my head, just a bit, before biting a little harder. The fucking coward is gasping for air and clawing at my mane. I desperately want to clamp down and kill this punk, but I know better. I’m not at The Den, and there are pack consequences for hurting humans. If I were to kill him, it would also draw attention and could bring Hunters, or worse, down on us. The pack consequences would be worth it, though!
‘Kill!’ Wolf demands, wanting vengeance for what he has done to our mate.
‘I agree. He has a debt in blood, but we are pack. We can’t just kill him.’ I imprint with finality.
I am quickly thinking of reasons to justify doing it though as my skull rings with Wolf’s howl at the injustice. The male starts sobbing and makes gurgled attempts to beg for his life, so I release him from my grip. I sit across his chest while digging my claws into his arms, let my whole weight settle, and push the air out of his lungs with every exhale. I’m enjoying the sight of his blood pooling under my claws, but after a few moments he passes out. No respectable being would do anything to an unconscious person…even if he does deserve it.
Slowly, I get up and pad my way to Amara in case she is awake. As soon as I’m close enough, I can tell she is still unconscious. While I put aside thoughts about any further bodily damage that I can cause, I move her, managing to get Amara situated on my back while still in wolf form. It took a lot of maneuvering, so we will have to go slow to ensure she doesn’t fall off. With Amara precariously placed on my back, I leave and make my way towards the side of her apartment. Thankfully there are a lot of trees for cover and astoundingly, not one soul is outside, so I carefully make my way into the woods and head towards The Den.
I make it to the gate and shimmy Amara off my back. She lightly lands in some soft bushes by the biometric scanner while I phase back to my human form. The crunching and shifting of bone go almost entirely unnoticed as I stare at the rise and fall of Amara’s chest. Taking a few minutes to get my head straight after the change is difficult with her near me, especially when she's hurt so bad. I complete my phase and walk over to the side of the wall where the pack usually tries to keep spare clothes. This way we don’t have to go around naked if someone phases by accident, which tends to happen a lot around here. I pull on a pair of sweats that are bigger than me in the waist, causing them to hang low, but they serve their purpose.
After I place my left index finger on the scanner, I quickly walk back to pick Amara off the ground when I hear a feminine voice say, “Access granted,” as the gates start to open. While walking up the long drive to the house, she starts snuggling into my chest unconsciously. Looking down at her, I realize that I’ve yet to see what she indeed looks like. I’ve seen her face for a moment, once. Now, looking at it covered in blood, Wolf starts raking me over the coals about it.
'We failed. If we would have claimed her before, then nobody would have dared to touch her!’ Wolf shoots at me.
I understand his flawed logic but decide not to respond to him; humans don’t recognize our ways and have no problems touching what is ours if they want. Most of the time, they have no idea what they’re doing, resulting in a lot of unnecessary fights and sometimes deaths. These conflicts are a big part of why we live in our separate communities. This way, our traditions are respected, and our families can be safe and protected.
Looking down again, I stare at her and think her face is looking less swollen and marginally better as if its already begun to heal. I walk through the front door, praying no one is home, as I immediately make a beeline for the stairs.
“What in the hell is going on? Who is that?” Mom shrieks, stopping me in my tracks.
She must have smelled Amara’s blood or heard me with her sonic hearing.
“I’ll have to explain later. Get the pack doctor here immediately!” I plead.
Looking a little pale, she nods in understanding as she takes in the amount of blood on my mate’s body and clothes. Once I dash to my room, I gently place Amara on my bed while sitting down on edge next to her. Feeling uneasy, I watch her chest rise and fall in the dark as her breathing becomes even and deep.
Chapter 10: Declan
“So how is she, Dr. Adams?” I ask, twisting my hands together anxiously as we step from the bedroom and into the hallway.
Dr. Adams is the second doctor I’ve had come over to examine Amara, and I'm not very confident in his abilities. Dr. Kraus, Adam’s mentor, was the first doctor I kicked out. Unfortunately, my options here at The Den are minimal. Dr. Adams just looks way too young to be a doctor, and Amara has been sleeping for far too long.
“She is going to be fine.” He responds in all seriousness.
He doesn’t look like he’s finished talking so I wait for the “But” that I’m dreading.
“But I’m confused because there are only a deep cut and a few bruises. There's no way that the amount of blood I saw on that girl’s clothes could’ve come from the two-inch gash I just examined, and I don’t smell anyone else’s blood.” He says with a bewildered look on his face.
“Really, it’s only a deep cut? That's impossible; her nose has to be broken." I contend.
I stare at Dr. Adams as he raises his eyebrows and tilts his head at my argument.
"Wait, wait, wait...” I say before he can continue.
“I know this will sound odd, but I noticed earlier that her injuries had already begun healing. She’s a were so do you think being near her mate could’ve sped up her ability to heal?” I ask him, looking for any plausible explanation.
“No. That ability doesn’t mature for females until she shifts for the first time, around her eighteenth birthday.
“How old is she?" He probes.
“Uh… seventeen, maybe.” I say, shrugging.
“Honestly, Doc, I’m guessing here. I haven’t even had the chance to get to know her, let alone exchange basic information like names and age." I respond guiltily.
I am studying his face and notice that he’s obviously thinking about something else.
“Umm. . ." he hesitates before taking a deep breath and continuing, "I don't want to overstep, but her scent is… off.” He finishes nervously.
Wolf has taken ph
ysical control now. Before my brain even processes what my body is doing, my hand is already grabbing him by his throat, and I’m holding him against the wall. Without much choice, I'm in his face and growling with my fangs bared.
“I mean no offense, I swear!” He chokes out while grasping at my hand, trying feebly to hold up some of his weight.
“I think she is only half werewolf.” He rasps, wasting oxygen as I squeeze harder.
Through the perfect vision of Wolf, I watch while his face is turning a deep shade of red. I try tremendously to calm myself by taking a deep breath. The Doctor is seconds away from passing out when I reluctantly let go of his throat. Immediately, he starts gasping and choking as he attempts to fill his lungs with oxygen through long exaggerated breaths.
“Explain,” I growl through clenched teeth.
I am struggling to gain physical control back from Wolf.
