The White Wolf

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

In the first hour of school, I discovered that everything I’d ever hoped for was real. Werewolves did exist, he had told me that; and then I found out that I had a mate…a werewolf mate. Not just any werewolf either, a rogue.

The last hour of school…I’m told that people will come and kill me, that I have to reject something that already has a control over me. Then I can’t think and breathe and I’m told that I’m something to, that I’m ‘rare’ and that I’m ‘the last of my kind’. I don’t know what that means and a part of me doesn’t want it to be real anymore.

Every hour in between is filled with the endless search I had for him. I had just wanted to see his face again, but now I was more than happy to be away. Something inside of me was saying that he wasn’t for me, that this was all a dream and I would wake up soon; this part of me, it was just thinking.

What if I let it go and rejected him? Say good bye to a mate and love that I read about in books. Or maybe it’s not real love, maybe it’s all a trick on the senses. What if he’s a freak just playing games with my head. What if I reject him and the people that want him dead still come after me? What if I fall in love with him? What if I just kill him and solve the problem that has been created?

 The other part of me, the lively part, said it was real and that I had to accept it.

What if I did accept it? What if I admitted to myself that werewolves were real and that I have a mate? I had tried that already and now I’m stuck here wishing that I didn’t. But what if I could just turn it all off like a switch? Just snap my fingers and it would be erased from my memory, or the feelings it was causing could be tarnished. Too bad ‘what if’ was always the question.

I lay in my bed staring at the ceiling, thinking. “Dear God, this is Haven. Apparently you created werewolves, and while that’s great and all…I was kind of wondering if you would send some kind of manual down. Like in a flaming chariot or what about by burning bush? I don’t care how I get it, but I seriously could use some help with this. And if this is sick joke from the guy down stairs…well I don’t find it very funny. Yours truly, annoyed and confused.”

I stood up after my lame attempt at prayer and stared at my white paint splattered walls. I guess I should send one both ways. “Hey Satan,” I said looking at the floor. “If this is your idea of a joke it sucks like monkey balls. Now I know one day I’m going to be down there, I mean come on…no way, am I getting a ticket up stairs, but come on!” I said throwing my hand in the air. “Can’t you wait until I’m there to torture me? I’ll live off your spit like everyone else, but I sure as hell am not getting raped in the butt by your spiteful pitch fork while I’m still breathing. Not yours truly, annoyed and angered.”

“That was nice,” I heard from behind me as a steady clap began. I spun around to find him standing there, staring at me and I found my breath caught in my throat. He smirked at me and raised his eyebrows. “Breathe, little girl. I’d hate for you to die before you reject me.”

“How did you get in my house?” I managed. He gave me a smirk in return and I glared. “Are you going to answer my question?”

“No,”

“Fine, then what are you doing here?” He stared at me blankly and I glared, angered by his presence and half tempted to call Malroy.

“I wouldn’t bother; he’s the one that let me in. I told him that I came to apologize.” Idiot, I thought. “Yeah, so how about we speed this up, I want to get laid tonight.”

I wanted to growl at him, to shove him down and bite him as hard as I could and show each and every girl that he was mine.

“I wouldn’t do that either,” He sighed at me with a laugh. “You’re full of bad ideas,”