One Direction Are My Mates??

Chapter 8

The next morning, I woke up to the smell of pancakes and the sound of bacon sizzling on a pan. Slowly becoming more awake, I notice that all of the boys are still sleeping, except Harry. He isn't in the room. Ah, he must be the one cooking breakfast. 

I slowly stand up, careful not to disturb the rest of the boys as I step over them, making my way to the kitchen. 

"Morning, love!" Harry says cheerfully, flipping over the pieces of bacon. 

I laugh, sleepily rubbing my eyes and turning on the coffee pot. I put the coffee grain into the drainer and add water, waiting for the coffee to pour. 

"Someone woke up on the good side of the bed this morning." I say, yawning. He laughs, shaking his head at my tiredness. 

"Well, I figured since you made dinner last night, I would cook breakfast this morning. Oh, and Paul stopped by and dropped off some extra food. There's orange juice and a whole bunch of snacks in the cabinets. If you want any orange juice I can pour you some," Harry trails off and is about to go towards the fridge when I put my hand up and stop him. 

"Haz, as much as I love this strange but weird treatment I'm getting, I really just need some coffee," I laugh, grabbing a mug from the top shelf of the cabinet. 

Harry laughs, shaking his head at my antics before flipping the pancakes onto a plate for everyone, making sure everyone had enough food. He gave everyone five pieces of bacon and a mug for either coffee or tea, which he has brewing on the stove as well. 

"Love, can I ask you something?" He asks as I stir some creamer into my coffee. 

"Yeah, what's up?" I ask, putting my spoon down and taking a drink. He sighs, looking nervous about what he's going to ask. 

"Well, me and the lads got to talking last night, after you fell asleep. We were talking about the whole . . . shifter thing. And we were thinking since, you know . . . about what happened to the rest of your pack, which means you have no one in the pack but you . . ." he continues to stall and stutter around. 

"Harry, as much as I love your rambling, can you please get to the point?" I ask, taking another sip of coffee. 

"We want you to turn us." He spits out quickly, pressing his lips into a tight line, waiting for a reaction.

With my "wolf-like" hearing, I can hear the other lads on the other side of the kitchen door, listening in. I wait a few seconds, thinking, before I speak.

"I don't know. . . I mean, why would you guys want to be shifters?" I ask, crinkling my eyebrows. 

"Because we don't want you to be alone. And you're not . . . alone. Please just consider it. We talked it through, and this is something that we want to do. You're not forcing us to do anything. Please, just consider it." He says, putting down his spatula and looking me in the eyes. 

I sigh, weighing my options. I mean, if they really do want this, it's better that I do it than someone else. I turn to the fridge and look at the calendar, checking the lunar cycle to see when the next full moon is.

I turn to look at the door, which I can see slightly moving. "You boys can come in now, by the way," I call out, shaking my head as the four boys walk into the room with sheepish look on their faces. 

I sigh, looking at them, "If we're doing this, we need to pack. The next full moon is tomorrow night. The mountain is inaccessible for any motorized vehicle, so we will have to take the horses"

A few hours later, we are all packed up and ready to go. We have the large tent, some extra clothes, food, and other essentials packed onto the horses' duffle carriers are on the road. 

I mount my horse, the wildest one; the one the other horses group around when in the pasture: Sonny, my Paint mare. 

I teach the boys the basics: how to steer, how to speed up, and how to slow down. Eventually, I nudge Sonny into a trot, riding up towards the mountain, the rest of the boys following suit.