Damien was elated. He couldn't belive he had found his mate! Gorgeous with long chestnut locks, beautiful clear blue eyes all wrapped up in a petite yet curvy figure- she was everything he wanted. He didn't even know her name for God's sake, but he was in absolute bliss to have met the beauty. It was difficult for him to control his wolf- who didn't care she was a human and felt that the mating process should proceed at the accelerated rate of werewolf mates.
Damien disagreed with his wolf, having attended a public highs school he knew humans well. He wasn't worried about finding her again, not only did he have a feeling she would return for "Wolfie", but he had also engraved the lilac scent of his mate into his brain. All there was left to do was find her, but he knew it would be delayed as he had to attend to pack duties. He trotted back towards his pack, excited to tell his the pack about his mate and now understood the tuffle earlier between the newly mated Jack and Blake- as he could attest for the increased emotions that came along with finding a mate.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡The short strokes on the canvas and the smell of oil paint invoked Elizabeth's senses. She had printed a picture of "Wolfie" that she took yesterday and had began a new, smaller, painting. She was hoping to make it a series, even though she knew she would need more pictures. It was almost an excuse to find that wolf again and Elizabeth couldn't understand her longing to see the chocolate beast again. It didn't seem safe or rational, yet she was drawn to the idea like a moth to a flame.
She was currently in her apartment painting the day away. Her foster parents had gifted her this as her part time studio, but she had also converted it as her living quarters. Her foster parents didn't mind, they understood at her age she wouldn't ever feel connected to them, plus they were to busy trying to convince a baby of their own.
Elizabeth noticed she was running low on turpentine- an oil paint thinner and the only thing that will get it off her hands, so she stride out the door. It wasn't a far walk to the hardware store and she didn't even notice the looks she got from guys checking out her dress. The dress was easier to sit in while painting for ours, it was cheap and had colorful paint splotches adorning it.
Walking the aisles she was in pursuit of her turpentine when she hit a brick wall. Of course it wasn't really a brick wall. No, it was too warm to be a brick wall and looking up Elizabeth stared into gorgeous hazel eyes. They were bright green, yet held small flecks of gold throughout. She tried to look away from his captivating gaze, but instead her eyes would only allow her to check him out.
He had dark brunette locks, almost black, that were pushed up yet not stylized. His face was angular- a sharp jawline that held a little bit of stubble and his lips, ooh his lips, they were pure pink perfection. Elizabeth bit her own lips and finally stepped away from his toned body.
"Sorry, I didn't see you there" she said with a nervous smile.
"It's fine you can run into me whenever you like"
" I should probably go now" blushing she turned to leave but remembered the turpentine.She blindly turned back around and grabbed the turpentine- attempting a quick escape when he happened to reach for the item next to it. This resulted in a collision and a broken bottle of oily turpentine all over the floor.
"Sorry" Elizabeth wanted to hit herself for her clumsiness.
"No, it was my fault- come with me"
They strode to the cash register, where he explained to the cashier what happened. The cashier called for clean up and he then paid for both Elizabeth's broken bottle and a new one.
"You didn't have to do that you know, it was my fault"
"Yes I did, but if you're feeling guilty you can go out to dinner with me"
Elizabeth blushed, "I don't even know your name."
"Damien and yours beautiful?"
"Elizabeth"
"So is that a yes, Elizabeth?"
"Great, I will meet you at Red's dinner"Elizabeth was relived he didn't ask to pick her up, but was still nervous going on a date with a stranger. But, as he walked away with an adorable smirk she got butterflies in her stomach just thinking about their upcoming date.
YOU ARE READING
The Art of Wolves
WerewolfArt was her passion. Elizabeth Snow, a 17 year old who had a slight addiction to chocolate, was a mastermind behind a canvas. She didn't mind being alone, she was an introvert at heart; but more importantly she had always been. Without much of a fam...