*Formerly called Love Happened*
Mila had an ordinary life. A cute boyfriend. Parents who were still happily married. From an outsider’s perspective, Mila had everything.
Nobody knew just how restless she was.
Neither did she know about the genes t...
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He was a werewolf. The thought sounded odd in my head. I couldn't imagine saying it out aloud.
I think I was in shock.
A car drove past, and he slumped over in his seat. "I'll be right back," he murmured. With a quick look back at me, he exited the car. I stared numbly at the now empty passenger seat.
He had just turned into a werewolf back there, hadn't he? I hadn't just imagined the whole thing.
Luca was back before I even got the chance to think about what I should do next. Opening the passenger door, he slipped back into the car. He'd pulled on a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. The jeans seemed a little big for him, hanging so low on his hips that I could tell he wasn't wearing any underwear. He didn't have any shoes on either, but nobody would notice anything unusual if they glanced in our direction as they drove past.
I kept seeing it all over again on replay in my mind... the way his clothes had torn around him, and how a wolf had suddenly stood in his place. I was finding it hard to believe, even as Luca's presence beside me was verification in itself that it had happened.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out of it. I couldn't think of a single thing to say. A part of me – the part that wasn't so infatuated with him – was screaming silently at me to yank open the driver's seat door and run out of here as fast as I could. The irrational part of me however wanted to hear Luca out and didn't want to leave him.
I felt sluggish, like I was here but at the same time like I was far away. Nothing, and I mean nothing, could have prepared me for this. Everything I knew, or thought I knew, about the world around me was shifting, rearranging itself to assimilate possibilities that I'd never known were out there.
He was a werewolf.
"Mila, I don't know what's going through your mind, but I'm not a monster," he said. His voice broke on the last word, his poise having crumbled in the face of the situation he was in. He cleared his throat, trying to cover it.
Did I think of him that way? As a monster?
The answer to that question came to the forefront of my mind quickly and without hesitation. No. I didn't think he was a monster.
But wasn't that the normal, sane way a person should feel? Him, sitting there, the smell of blood still hanging in the air... I should be trying my hardest to get away from him. But all I could do was stare at him, feeling this warmth begin to blossom in my chest.
He had protected us.
"You're a werewolf," I whispered hoarsely. It was all I could say, all I could really think.
