The Boy Who Loved The Werewolf

Chapter Eleven: Explanations

                                                             *Parker *

I smile. She loves me.

"I've missed you, baby." I whisper, holding her tighter.

"I've missed you too. Please don't hate me." she cries, I cup her face in my hands. I look into her stormy gray eyes and stroke her tear-stained cheeks with my thumbs.

"Not possible." I murmur, she closed her eyes and buries her face in my chest.

"You can't tell anyone." she says, making me chuckle.

"Who am I gonna tell? No one would believe me." I say, stroking her spine.

"Cher might." she mumbles, I let out a sigh.

"I think we should tell Cher." I say, Fiona nods her head.

"We were talking about it. Jeremiah really likes your cousin." she says in a sad, but playful tone.

"He better hope she's willing to hear him out after he turns into a giant wolf." I mutter, hating the idea of Jeremiah turning into a giant wolf in front of my cousin.

"I wanna know more about it." I say suddenly. Fiona pulls away and looks at me.

"More about what?" she asks confused.

"More about the wolf thing. I just wanna know what I'm gonna be dealing with." I say seriously, making her laugh,

"You won't be dealing with anything. That's why we're here." she teases, I raise an eyebrow.

"Why you're here?" I repeat, she nods.

"We settled here about twenty five years ago, because we heard about a vamp attack. They were killing off a lot of people, making it look like accidents. Then we stepped in and put a stop to it. Then the ogres interfered-"

"How many fairytale creatures are there?" I cut her off.

"Quite a few. There's the largest group, the faeries. There's about five hundred of them. But they're really little, the size of a butterfly. They're pretty harmless, too. Trolls there are only a hundred of them left. They like warm, damp places. Of course, vampires, I'd say there's fifty to their coven that's a little north of here. Demons and angels, they live in the nice sunny places. Most of them are celebrities, believe it or not. There's only six werewolves, soon to be seven with Morgan being pregnant. And. . .that's it." she explains, I blink and process what I was just told.

"You're endangered." I observe, she smiles and nods.

"Yea. There used to be more werewolves. But they were wiped out by hunters two centuries ago. We're only still alive because we ran and hid. We refused to fight." she explains, I stare at her, blinking rapidly.

I can't seem to wrap my head around it. She's 339 years old, she's been around for many centuries. And she's so beautiful. I bring my hand up to her face and stroke her hair back.

She stares up at me, an eyebrow raised. "Why are you staring at me?"

I smirk. "I'm in love with a cougar."

She scowls at me and pushes me back. "Quiet. I don't need reminded."

I grab her around her waist and pull back into me. I lean in and press my mouth against her neck, kissing her gently.

"Why? Does it upset you?" I ask, she shrugs away from me. Collapsing on the bed with a defeated look. I sit down beside her, watching her expression get darker and darker.