by B. K. Walker
She stared at me for a long moment. “Why didn’t you tell me the details, Cevin?”
“I didn’t want to hurt you, like I’m doing right now. I never wanted to see that look of pain in your eyes, Sam. It kills me to know I’m hurting you, and it’s not over yet. There’s nothing I can do about it. Nothing!” I slammed my fists on the table, rattling the silverware against the plates, liquid splashing from our cups.
I
decided while Sam was in the shower that I would go to my mom’s. I had enough ridicule for the day, and thought it would be better to talk to Mom alone.
“Hey, sweetie.” Mom was already pouring the coffee when I walked in.
“Hey, Mom.” I sat down on a stool at the island that stood in the middle of her kitchen and waited anxiously, sipping the hot coffee. I watched her slowly put sugar and milk in her own cup, wishing she would hurry up, she was going to drive me insane.
Turning, she blew on the hot liquid, looking at me through the steam. After taking a sip, she walked over and sat next to me on another stool. “Sweetie, what I’m about to say is probably going to upset you…a lot.”
I was already hating the sound of it. “What is it, Mom?”
“Believe me when I say, I’ve wanted to tell you this a long time ago. Your father and I just figured it was something better left unsaid. There was no harm in it whatsoever, or so we thought.” She looked at the floor, I assumed to gain her composure.
“Mom, just tell me.”
“That man in the picture that you always saw in the background.” She waited for me to acknowledge. “Well…honey, that’s your real father.”
The mug I was about to sip from fell from my hands, pieces of ceramic scattering across the floor, liquid splashing my legs, burning through my pants. Mom raced to grab towels and started cleaning the mess. I was unable to move, staring at her, a million things racing through my mind.
“We’re sorry, honey. We should have told you. It was one of those situations where you’re just not sure what’s right and what’s wrong. We thought it would just be best if you didn’t know.” She continued cleaning. “You’re real mother was our daughter, Cevin. She died during childbirth, a complication from toxemia when she was pregnant with you.” She knew that I would know the term. “We figured we had endured the loss of Julie enough and we just wanted to live our lives. We didn’t want you to have to share in that pain.”
“It wasn’t your right to make that decision. You had no right keeping that from me.”
“I know, honey. I was just trying to protect you.” She pleaded. “We never meant to hurt you. That was the last thing we wanted to do.”
“Tell me about him.”
She took a deep breath before sitting back down. She went to touch my arm and I pulled back. The hurt on her face was more than I wanted to cause, but she withheld important information from me. I needed time to think things through, but I needed to know about this man more.
“Your mother was young when she got pregnant. She swore your father, Richard, was the one, doting on him and glowing all the time. Anyone that would pass her on the street just knew she was in love. They were planning to be married that Spring before you were born. She was having so much fun planning the wedding and preparing for you. Your Mom and Richard were high school sweethearts, and we didn’t think anything would ever tear them apart.
“Then Richard started acting strangely, walking in his sleep, talking about strange things and he withdrew from everyone. There were times your Mom would wake up and he wouldn’t be there, returning in the morning covered in mud and no explanation. One day she woke up and he was gone, never returning again. She was devastated. Julie started growing depressed, barely getting out of bed in the mornings. I tried to convince her that she needed to stay healthy for your sake. She was diagnosed with toxemia, ordered to bed-rest. When it was time for you to come into the world, it got the better of her.
“Your father and I took it hard, but knew we had to be there for you. There were many times we talked about telling you the truth, but when we still hadn’t heard from Richard in so long, we just thought he was gone for good. We thought we were doing the right thing by not telling you.”
“What about the photo you had. You said it was your grandfather.”
“He’s not my grandfather, but your father.”
“Why do you have his picture? He’s my real father?”
“When Richard left, we didn’t have a picture of him. When we cleaned out your Mom’s apartment, all the photo albums were gone. Dealing with their own grief, Richards parents stopped on their way out of town. They apologized for their sons behavior, Emma, Richard's mother, handed us a picture of Richard. ‘Please tell our grandson we’re sorry. You show him this picture so he knows what his father looks like.’ They didn’t speak good English, coming here from Germany. Even though your dad and I decided against telling you, I kept it hidden in the back of my closet all these years.”
“Where did they go? Randall and my grandmother?”
“We heard Randall died not too long after leaving, he became really sick. Emma passed a few months after Randall. Both of them had Richard late in life.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Mom slid another picture, face down, towards me.
“We’re sorry, honey.”
Flipping it over, I felt like I was looking at myself in the mirror. The woman had long, flowing dark, brown hair, sparkling hazel eyes and a smile just like my own. She was beautiful. “This is my Mom?”
“It is.” She smiled, tears welling in her eyes. “She was a beautiful woman. So full of life. You’re a lot like her, Cevin.”
Seeing how much this was hurting her, the indwelling need to care for others was an automatic response. Walking over to her, she stiffened as I placed my arms around her, but when she realized I was trying to comfort her, she exhaled a shaky breath. I allowed her to weep not rushing the moment.
“Honey, I’m so sorry.”
“Mom, I know you are, but you should’ve told me. You should’ve trusted me enough to tell me the truth.” Pulling away I walked over to stare out the sliding glass doors, searching the treeline for anything that didn't belong.
“We just didn’t know what to do, please don’t hate us.”
Catching a familiar scent, I felt drawn to the woods and decided it was time to go. I didn’t know how mad I would be at my mother, I just knew how mad I wanted to be at her. I grabbed my jacket…
“Cevin, please forgive us.” Tears continued to fall down her cheeks.
“Mom, just give me a little time to sort it all through.” Sliding my jacket on I headed out the door. I felt bad leaving her like that, and I wanted be so mad at her, I just wasn’t feeling as mad as I thought I should. Fumbling with the keys to my car that familiar scent assaulted my nostrils again. Putting my nose to the air I couldn’t help but follow it. Leading me into the woods, which I knew it would, I followed my nose. Pausing just inside the tree line I listened and scanned my surroundings, not really noticing anything out of place. I recognized that smell. It was the same smell from my dreams.
Scanning the woods one more time, I felt angered at the fact that she was stalking me and not showing herself. What was the big deal about not meeting your supposed mate before the full moon anyways? It was the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Feeling my anger on the verge of boiling, I stormed off to my car. When I got a stronger smell of the scent, her scent, I didn’t even bother looking back.
When I got home the smell of cleaning agents was strong, I knew I would find Sam cleaning. She always cleaned when she was upset. Closing the door behind me Sam was on her hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor. The very sight had my manhood reacting. Shaking my head, I pushed those thoughts back realizing Sam didn’t need any sexual confrontation. Noticing the blood on her knuckles I raced to her side grabbing her hands.
“Sam, what did you do?” She tried pulling away, I pulled her closer. She didn’t put up as mu
ch of a fight as I had expected. “Sam, I’m so sorry. Let’s clean up your hands and go talk.” I didn’t wait for her to respond and led her to the bathroom to clean her up.
Watching the tears stain her cheeks, I just wanted to protect her. I should have been honest with her and just told her everything from the beginning. Instead I skirted the story only telling her what I wasn’t ashamed to admit. I should’ve known this would be the worst hurt. If I really wanted to be honest with myself. I’d have admitted to myself that I enjoyed the woman from my dreams. What kind of man does that make me? Maybe Sam would be better off without me, and maybe I deserved to lose her to some pack I don’t even believe in.
“Cevin?” Sam was looking at me through her tears, I could tell she was trying to stay strong.
“I’m sorry, Sam. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you.”
“I’ll be fine. I was being selfish. It’s you we need to worry about, not my feelings. I’m sorry for being so unfair.”
That was just like her to think of others instead of herself. I found myself wanting to be more and more like her everyday. “Sam, please don’t say that. If I would have just been honest from the beginning.”
“It’s not your fault. We both know I would have taunted you, or ridiculed you even if you would have told me the truth.”
“We’re best friends and going to be married, we should be able to tell each other anything no matter the subject. I’m sorry for not trusting and I love you.” I pulled her to my chest and felt relief when she wrapped her arms around my waist. I knew we would figure this out and no matter what happens, we would do it together.
“What did your mother have to say?”
Sam was ready to move forward, so I told her everything. It was her idea to do some research, and we stayed up all night making charts of my family history and the history of the wolf pack, according to what Sierra told me. We created a family tree dating back as far as my mother’s great great great grandfather. Sam did some research on Richard and his family, and when I heard her fingers quickly tapping on the keyboard, I looked up from my own computer.
“Richard's family tree ends with his parents. There is nothing for neither Emma or Randall, nothing comes up at all.”
“Mom said they were from Germany, did you try there?”
“I’ve tried every country I could think of related to Germany. There is nothing.”
I thought about this while pouring us each another cup of coffee. This must be where the wolf pack comes in. Tomorrow was the full moon and we were no closer to the truth than we were two days ago. I felt as if I was going into a graduate exam as a freshman, completely confused and tired as hell. Rubbing the bridge of my nose I could feel the headache creeping in.
It didn’t go unnoticed I knew when Sam said, “We should get some rest. We can pick up on this after a few hours sleep.” Sam shut down her computer and waited for me to do the same.
I knew we were at a dead end, and a few hours of sleep wouldn’t make a difference. After taking some ibuprofen I joined Sam in the bedroom. Much to my surprise she was laying naked on the bed, her head resting on her arm. She looked beautiful, and I couldn’t help but stare at her naked body, remembering why it was I fell in love with her in the first place. I remembered the first time I met her, the thought making me smile. We were in school, and she had beat up a kid for picking on me. Who ever said a girl couldn’t protect herself, well, they never met Sam. The sound of her hand tapping the mattress brought me from my reverie.
“Come to bed, Cevin.”
I stripped my clothes off and slid in next to her. “Come on. Roll over, I’m going to give you a massage.”
“Sam, you don’t have to do that.”
“I know that silly. I can see that your all tensed up though, anyone could see it a mile away.” She forced me to my stomach and rubbed the knots that I didn’t know were there. She was right, I was tense.
Working her way down, she lightly ran her hand across my ass to my thigh, the tickling sensation bringing my cock out of hibernation. Forcing me to roll over now, she slowly kissed my cheek, then my lips. My cock jerked in response.
“Sam?”
“Shh. Just let me help you.” She kissed my neck softly, fire igniting in my loins. Slowly she ran her tongue in small, circular motions down my chest. My cock jerked again. She played at the hairs below my bellybutton, teasing. Her hand wrapped around my shaft and she gave a slight squeeze.
“Mm, mm.”
More tongue, then a flicking with it on the end of my manhood. My head fell back and eyes closed, wallowing in the sensation. My skin tingled all over, and when she took my rod in her mouth, sliding those lips down to the base I thought I was going to explode, blowing my seed down her throat. She moved slow, sliding down and up again, lubricating me with her saliva, taking me in as far as she could without gagging. It felt so good.
“Love, why must you bring me into this?”
Jerking my eyes open, I looked around the room. “What the hell was that?”
Sam pulled her lips off my cock and looked at me strangely. “What was what, Cevin?” She looked around the room to see what I was looking at.
“Didn’t you hear that?”
“Hear what? Cevin, I think the stress is getting to you.”
I listened for a second more. “You’re probably right. It’s probably lack of sleep.” I lay my head back down and relaxed to Sam’s rhythm. She licked up one side, back down the other, flicking the tip of my cock with her warm tongue. Each time it pulsated in response, her lips felt like velvet as she worked her magic. Reaching for her sex, I fell short as she slapped my hand away, the vibrations of her humming correction almost sending me over the edge.
“Have your fun now, Love. Tomorrow night is the full moon. I guarantee after a night with me, you won’t want that petty bitch anymore.”
Sitting up on my elbows, Sam looked at me with the tip of my cock still in her mouth. How the hell was that bitch here when I wasn’t even sleeping? I waited some more, waiting for her to talk again. Sam continued.
“Ha ha. I will let you have her tonight. I know it will be your last night together. Then the poor little redhead will have to find herself a new man.”
“Oh yeah?”
“What?”
Before Sam could get an answer from me, I flipped her on her back, diving into her pussy with all of my face, shoving my tongue hard against her clit. When I heard the woman laugh again, I spread Sam’s legs, flipping them over my shoulders and thrust myself deep inside of her core. Deeper and deeper I dove, moaning out with every penetration. Sam didn’t take notice of my exaggerated vocals, moaning to match mine. I could feel her sex clamp around my shaft as I slid in one last time, taking us both over that wonderful edge of ecstasy.
Soon I heard Sam's soft snores. I couldn't sleep, the thought of this woman talking to me when I wasn't dreaming. Annoyed at this new revelation, I got up to research more. Kissing Sam's cheek softly, I stared at her for minutes, wondering if I was really going to lose her after all was said and done. Why a wolf, why now? I couldn't help but wonder what my future held. Would this life be gone forever?
I had to find out.
D
aylight was shining through the windows before I realized how much time had gone by. Sipping on a fresh cup of coffee, I hit the last result option in my search. Time slipped by like the whispers in the wind as I stared at my computer screen in front of me.
There it was.
The final site to be seen before I gave up and just waited for my fate. That last site before hope was doomed. An article on a news site about a Professor in Bray, Ireland, “Werewolves: Myth or Legend?”
“Dr. Conley is often thought of as eccentric as he’s researched his belief that Werewolves are real. After reading his articles though, one has to wonder, is he really that far off from the truth?” As I read further, I found the link that led directly to his research and I felt my heart skip a beat, excited to find out
if I was going crazy, or becoming a wolf.
Clicking the link, the page couldn’t load fast enough. Skimming through the pages on his site, I was in awe at the amount of information I could have had access to, saving myself a lot of time. Dr. Conley talked about his research, how he followed a wolf pack for almost a decade. He states he witnessed a turning of a human man, transforming into a wolf, describing the excruciating pain the man appeared to endure during his first shift ever.
Further into the article, a paragraph caught my eye as he speaks of the exact same thing that Sierra told me.
“Wolves are led by a female and male Alpha. When one of those Alpha’s die unexpectedly or due to old age, old age being in wolf years, which could be centuries into its lifespan, it is common for the oldest male wolf in the pack, of the same bloodline, to inherit the throne. Often times, these second Alpha’s come from their order in the pack of being second in command. They’ve been preparing their entire lives, learning from their pack-mates to take this position and lead them wisely.
“Only one time in my research, did I find a male leave the pack to live among normal humans, trying to live a normal life. He was meant to be the next Alpha, but never returned to the throne to fulfill his destiny.”
My mouth dropped when I read the date. It was the year I was born, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was my father. Was it him that left the pack, trying to give me a normal life? I had to hope that this was the case, that there was still a chance that I wouldn’t hold this curse against him. I continued reading.
“I often wondered about this one that left the pack behind. He returned only once, to have his life taken by the Alpha for abandoning his pack. I often wondered about his reasons for leaving, and would have followed him that day to find out, if the Alpha hadn’t been obligated to enforce his authority.
