Selenophile:
(n) a person who loves the moon.
On the special moon, The Ruby Moon is when the werewolves have their own little Hunger Games; Where they pick hybrids, omegas, white wolves, prisoner's of War, and criminals to participate in the fight t...
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Rhydian
I stare at her through the small crack in one of the doors. I could smell her earthy lavender scent and followed it to the library.
She obviously couldn't tell I was her mate because only the males could smell their mates, though the females can sense their mates. I silently watched my auburn haired mate while she scanned through the books.
I thought she was quite fascinating to look at. She only had one flaw— her rank, I could easily tell she was an omega just by her movement. She would hesitantly reach for books while a higher ranking wolf would've not been hesitant.
I couldn't possibly accept an omega as my queen. She would be eaten alive by everyone, I didn't want to do that to her. I couldn't do that to her. She was too good to be with me.
I finally gained the guts to walk up to her. I was walking on shaky, nervous legs from worrying how she would react about the rejection. It was for her own good.
I carefully opened the door to not spook her. I knew she heard me, so much for being gentle— of course there's nothing gentle about me, I'm soon to be King of the North.
I stepped into the library almost expecting her to run up to me and hug me like some teddy bear like my sister— well scratch that— my adopted sister, Elysia. But the unknown girl who I feel heavily attached to just turned to me, squinting a little trying to decipher who I was.
After realizing this I stepped into the light so she could get a better at me. I stared at her, I was trying to find which emotion was going on in her pastel green eyes. The emotion was dread, she knew exactly what was going to happen.
I felt like I was going to vomit, I couldn't possibly hurt both her and myself by rejecting the bond. The red string that ties us to our soulmates. A voice deep within me finally made up my answer, Do something or I'll do it, the voice growled going impatient. I already knew who it belonged to, Talon, my wolf. The one thing that holds my dark desires and fantasies.
With Werewolves, we have our wolf immediately when we turn at the age of fourteen. Our wolves have the opposite personality to us— at least most of the time, in my case, me and Talon are practically twins.
We always know what each are thinking without even saying it. But right now I had blocked our mind link which obviously pissed him off, that son of a bitch couldn't have been patient.
I was hit back to reality when I realized I wasn't in control of my body. Talon was and he most definitely won't be gentle on our mate. I could tell he really wasn't thinking right, he thought because our mate was an omega he was going to just hit her with the rejection like dumping loads of bricks on someone.
