Temptation (Journal of the Wolves of Spruce Hollow)

by Tarrah Betts

  Unfortunately, it had turned into a ragged, pink mess over the years, but she still had a piece of it with her. She kept it tucked under her pillow.

  Satisfied that she was safe and sound, I turned around to leave the room when I heard her weight shift on the bed. Crap.

  “Roan?” she asked sleepily.

  “Yeah.”

  “Why are you in my room, is something wrong?”

  “No, I was just checking on you, it’s late, go back to sleep.”

  “Oh. What are you still doing up?”

  “I’m getting ready to go pick up the new male Were down in Shawfield. Griff and Kuno are going too. We’re leaving tonight.”

  “Oh,” she said as she sat up in bed.

  It was just one little word, yet it held so much substance and meaning. I could tell from her tone that she was surprised and slightly disappointed that I was leaving.

  “Is everything alright Aspen?”

  “Well, it’s just that I didn’t expect you to be leaving is all.”

  “Why, are you going to miss me or something, little girl?” I said, my voice dark and playful.

  I enjoyed teasing Aspen, mostly just to see what her reaction would be, but also because I could say pretty much anything at all to her, if I said it in a teasing manner and she never knew if I was being serious or not. It might sound like an underhanded thing to do to her but it allowed me great insight into her thoughts and feelings.

  She looked down and didn’t answer, which was not a good sign for Aspen because normally you couldn’t shut her up, so I walked back towards the bed and sat down next to her. The mattress immediately sank beneath my weight and caused her to fall into me with her forehead forcefully whacking my shoulder.

  She let out a little squeak as she fell forward, and instinctively held out both her hands to stop herself from falling. They ended up splayed out on my chest.

  Physical contact.

  I was an honorable Were. I always did the right thing, even when it killed me, like right now. I could inhale deeply and smell her hair. I wanted to and she was right there, next to me but I knew that path would ultimately lead to me thinking about throwing her on the bed, tearing off her little panties and doing dark unspeakable things to her.

  Instead, I grabbed her by the upper arms and held her lithe body away from mine.

  “What’s wrong Aspen?”

  “Um, I mean, you know, I just…”

  “No, I don’t know. What is it?”

  “Um, it’s just that..umm..yeah, I just…” she stammered.

  “You just what, Aspen. Spit it out.”

  As I held her by the upper arms, my hands wrapped around her biceps like metal bands; I enjoyed how our proximity was making her lose her composure because that’s normally how I felt around her, I was just better at hiding it than she was.

  Looking down at her, our eyes met and held for a second before she quickly looked away from me. Ha, she couldn’t even look me in the eye!

  She was suddenly shy and I found it surprisingly endearing, I knew that was why she was suddenly so subdued and timid with me but, nonetheless, I enjoyed watching her squirm way too much to let her off the hook so easily. I wondered if I pushed her a little further, would the words I wanted to hear her say spill from her pouty little mouth?

  Would she dare say that she would miss me while I was gone?

  I didn’t mean to be so pushy with her but I was increasingly bossy and dominant with her since she started maturing sexually. I just didn’t know how else to act around her, since I was afraid that if I relaxed even a little and just let things go, then I would completely lose control of the situation.

  Like right this minute. Being this close to her and not taking what I wanted from her was hard.

  My mind was scrambled and my dick was throbbing painfully against the confines of my jeans as I tried to still myself and concentrate on her breathing.

  “Look at me, Aspen, look at me.” She raised her beautiful, green cat eyes up and looked at me. I could see her perfectly in the pitch dark and I drank it all in, like a parched man at a watering hole.

  Her messy bedhead, her breasts heaving under her small t-shirt, her trembling lips. I could even hear her heart pounding like a drum in her chest. Her pheromones were permeating the room until the air was so thick, I couldn’t smell anything else but her arousal.

  What was I doing, tempting disaster like this? I shook my head in an attempt to clear the bonds her scent was weaving around me.

  I wanted to shake her and scream out “Stop it Aspen! Stop doing this to me!” But she was so vulnerable and unaware of what she was doing to me. Honestly, I wanted to kick myself in the ass for looking at her the way I was right now…but she couldn’t see in the dark as well as I could and had no idea that my eyes were raking over her.

  “Roan, I…um…”

  I couldn’t do this. I just couldn’t. It wasn’t right. Without warning, I let go of her arms and let her go free. I needed to stop toying with her like this, like a cat with a frightened mouse.

  I swallowed hard; it was time to erect the boundaries again before it was too late. Me, as the authority figure and Aspen, as the teenager under my care.

  “I won’t be gone long Aspen, just a day or two and then I’ll be home. Okay? I’ll take you out to the training camp when I get back, how’s that? Would you like that?”

  “Really? You’d take me there? Promise?”

  “Yep, I promise. Now lay down and go back to sleep, little girl, it’s late.”

  I silently left her room and didn’t look back at her as I closed her bedroom door, even though I could feel her eyes watching me.

  I knew she would be appeased by the promise of going to the camp with me. She was becoming more and more aware of our connection; I could see it in her eyes. She just hadn’t figured out what to do about it yet due to her age and life experiences.

  She’d had such a shitty start in life that I’d kept her pretty sheltered as she grew up and as a teenager, she’d never had a boyfriend that lasted longer than a few dates; she’d never drank alcohol, done drugs or gotten into any serious trouble. She was a pretty good girl.

  Of course, I kept her on a pretty short leash, which left her fairly innocent and untouched.

  As I left the house and locked the door, I prayed that things would stay that way in my absence.

  Chapter 9

  ***

  The sidewalk was full of jubilant Spruce Hollow High School students as school was dismissed for the day. Slowly maneuvering through the crowd, I walked along the sidewalk, scanning the parking lot beside Sabre’s Auto body for Roan’s black truck.

  But it wasn’t there ...again. I felt like crying.

  All that was parked there today was Caver’s black and silver motorcycle and several other cars that were waiting to be worked on. I sniffed inwardly, not wanting to cry in front of the other kids from school but my heart was heavy.

  Roan had been gone for 5 days now, which was much longer than he’d told me he would be and I felt like I was just barely hanging on and keeping it together.

  I didn’t know what was wrong with me but having Roan leave town this time around felt different than any of the other times and was doing strange things to me. I was constantly tearful and felt acutely lonely for him.

  “I wonder what’s taking him so long?” I thought to myself as I trudged along and joined the group of kids from the pack who were waiting by the bus stop. I didn’t mingle with them though, I never felt like I fit in with any of them.

  I used to get called names a lot when I first came to live on the acreage, most of them I didn’t understand but one time this boy from the pack called me a “Jezebel” and a “little tart” when I was eight and I asked Roan what it meant. He said it meant that I was sweet and delicious like a blueberry pie, but I think he lied to me because he left the house in a pissy huff and then when I saw the boy's father the next day, it looked like someone had beaten his face in.
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br />   So, the pack kids kind of stayed away from me after that.

  I missed Roan when he was gone and this time was even worse than the last time he’d left Spruce Hollow. I’d already cried twice today, once this morning when I’d discovered his truck still wasn’t parked at home in the driveway and then again in the bathroom at recess.

  I couldn’t help it; there was something wrong with me inside whenever Roan was concerned.

  I was powerless and fragile when it came to him.

  I’d spent the entire day moping around school in a distressed fog. I was worried about him, why had he been gone for so long? Wasn’t he just supposed to pick up the new Were and bring him back to Spruce Hollow? Had something happened? Had Roan been injured or in some kind of an accident?

  Just thinking of the possibilities was enough to start me bawling again. I felt alone and unprotected without Roan here to comfort me.

  He was important to me like no other adult was and I hated to admit that because it made me feel guilty inside because no one, not even my own mother, Valerie, held as much importance in my eyes.

  I couldn’t really explain it; it was sort of like he was “my adult” and only mine. My own personal protector, guide and playmate that belonged to only me.

  Roan could be so much fun, when he wanted to be. He’d taught me how to do basically everything I’d ever learned how to do.

  The day I first met Roan was one of my favorite memories of all. It was the day after I had arrived in Spruce Hollow and I was still adjusting to being shuffled off to yet another foster home. Valerie’s house was house number eight in the year since my biological mom had died.

  So, I was tearful and scared and had spent the past twenty-four hours at Valerie’s huddled in my pink blanket on the couch, not talking or eating.

  I felt insecure and unsafe in this new home because I was constantly being shuffled around in foster care and didn’t understand that, this time, I wasn’t going to be moved ever again and that I was going to live with Valerie “forever”.

  In my six year old mind, I figured this house was no different than every other place that I had been forced to live in since my mother had died.

  I had become a very different child from the one who had first been put in the foster care system a year before.

  And then Roan came into my life.

  He showed up at the door on a Saturday morning and Valerie brought him into the living room and introduced him to me as a “family friend”. I sat at one end of the couch, sniffling back my tears with my pink blankie clutched around my body in a death grip while he walked to the other end of the couch and sat down.

  “Hi Aspen,” he said gently, “wanna watch tv with me?” he asked as he flicked on the tv.

  I eyed him warily; he was the biggest teenaged boy I had ever seen in my life. He was tall and muscular with a wide, attractive smile and kind blue eyes. He was enormous! There just seemed to be so much of him occupying the couch.

  After sitting and watching Sesame Street, Blues Clues, Mister Rogers, Scooby Doo and an Elmo in Grouchland movie together, I began to think that maybe Roan was a “safe” person. After all, he liked the same shows I did, plus he had brought me a big bag full of surprises and left it on the floor in front of me.

  They were presents, he’d told me, but I eyed it with suspicion and refused to touch the bag, so it just sat there.

  After Scooby Doo was over, he reached into the big bag and pulled out a metal tin decorated with yellow and purple daisies. Roan told me that his mom had made chocolate chip cookies for me and that she was the best cook in the whole world.

  I watched him like a hawk as he opened the tin and offered one to me but I hid my face behind my blanket and wouldn’t take it from him. So, he took one out of the tin for himself and munched on it happily while I eyed him suspiciously out of the corner of my eye. He would look at me while he ate it and would smile at me kindly, but didn’t force me to take a cookie or to talk to him.

  Roan didn’t give up though.

  He waited me out, with the deliberate patience of a wolf stalking it’s prey, and sat quietly with me on the couch until I came around.

  It paid off though, because by the end of his visit, I was sitting in his lap, melted into his chest, clutching my blanket and eating cookies while he read me a story about Stacey the Unicorn from a book that he had brought over in the bag of presents.

  That was all it took for him to win me over.

  And from that moment on, Roan was “my” adult. He was safe and patient and fun to be with. I went to him for everything, above anyone else in the pack, even my mother, Valerie.

  If I fell and skinned my knee, I wanted Roan to comfort me. When I had to go to bed at night, I wanted Roan to tuck me in. On the first day of school, I wanted Roan to hold my hand as I walked into the school for the first time.

  Roan had patience in everything when it came to me. He’d even taught me how to ride a bicycle the summer that I arrived in Spruce Hollow. He would take me to his dad’s old auto body shop after supper and stay out in the parking lot with me for hours at a time, holding on to the bike and running beside me.

  We made quite the pair, the tall, teenaged, male Were and the small, human, six year old girl.

  But he didn’t mind and I certainly didn’t either. He was like my mentor, big brother and the father that I’d never had, all rolled into one.

  It took me awhile to learn to drive that darn bike too. I had monumental trust issues with people and was afraid that Roan would let me go and I’d crash and fall off the bike. He would always say, “I won’t let go until you ask me to, ok little girl? I promise.”

  Roan had always called me “Little girl” for as long as I could remember. I liked it when he called me that; it was kind of his pet name for me and only me.

  Roan had also taught me how to fish, hunt and shoot a gun. I really didn’t like hunting that much though, as I refused to shoot and kill the animals but I definitely liked spending time alone in the woods with Roan.

  One time he’d taken me out hunting when I was nine and he shot and killed a deer. I cried like a baby that he’d “shot Bambi” and instead of losing his patience, he’d picked me up and explained that the deer had given it’s life so that we could eat.

  I didn’t understand the whole circle of life thing at that age and kept crying my eyes out. So, Roan comforted me and with my wet face buried into his shoulder, he carried me out of the woods…as he pulled the deer behind him.

  Even though I didn’t like hunting, I did love to go target shooting with him. Roan said that I had a good eye and was a pretty decent shot with either a rifle or a handgun, thanks in part to the many hours we spent out at the gun range together.

  We didn’t go to the range as often anymore.

  Come to think of it, we didn’t really do much of anything together anymore and it sometimes left me feeling like Roan was trying to pull himself away from me. I hated that feeling; it made feel angry inside, like “how dare he take his attention and affection away from me!”

  Roan was a man who liked to cover all his bases and be prepared for anything. But that was Roan for you. He always liked to be in control of the outcome. Who knows, maybe he was a boy scout when he was a kid?

  Or maybe he was just a control freak.

  Either way, he always wanted me to be self sufficient and to be prepared “incase”. “Incase “ what, I had no idea but I didn’t complain because that only meant that he would spend more time with me, teaching me things.

  When I was a little kid, he used to show me all these self defense moves when he came over to visit in the evenings before he tucked me into bed. He would enthusiastically push the couch out of the way in the living room, then would grab me and show me how to break free from him, incase I was ever attacked by a stray dog or a rapist or something.

  We would roll around on the floor until he got me good and hyper before bed, then he would pretend he was a monster and sling me over his shoulde
r and carry me off to my room, where he would pretend to eat/tickle me on my bed until I squealed like a pig from the excitement.

  We didn’t play around like that anymore; I guess he thought I was too grown up for games like that.

  Now that I was older, the self-defense stuff he taught me was more serious and there was less fun involved. Frankly, I was surprised he even kept it up at all, as he seemed so miserable and short tempered whenever we were together now.

  Roan was funny that way. The more I grew up, the more he seemed to want to get away from me. Maybe I just wasn’t any fun to be around anymore? I hope not because that thought made me feel really heavy-hearted.

  And now that I was older, I liked it when Roan had his hands on me. They were big, strong and warm and always sent shivers up and down my spine when he accidentally touched my bare skin while showing me how to get out of a hold. I had started wearing more revealing clothing to these little self-defense demonstrations and Roan was not happy about it. In part because I think touching me kind of grossed him out but I didn’t care, having his hands all over me felt right somehow.

  I liked so many things about Roan but one of my favorites was his sense of humor. Roan could be really funny when he wasn’t fully engaged in playing the part of the sober and serious pack Beta. When the two of us were together, we always used to laugh at each others jokes; it was like we had this special language that only the two of us could properly decipher and grasp the meaning of.

  Roan seemed to love our shared sense of humor just as much as I did and had developed a habit of teasing me mercilessly. He loved it, while I fiercely professed to hate it.

  But secretly, I loved it when he made me squirm.

  Teasing me made me feel submissive towards him and I found myself enjoying feeling that way towards him, the older I got. The idea of him as the big, bad male Were and me as the little, defenseless human girl sent electric sparks of animalism coursing through me. Thinking of Roan and I together always filled me with extremely appealing, sexual thoughts.