Tara’s P.o.v. I try to cover up as much as possible, with my arm across my chest and a hand covering my privates, I race towards my door, bursting through and stumble as fast as I can into the bedroom. Quickly throw on my fluffy pink robe and start rummaging through my chest of drawers for the biggest t-shirt I own for my father to wear.This changing into a completely different being is cool and all, but I really need to think of a way to cover up as soon as change back into little ol’me, walking around in my birthday suit isn’t exactly my thing. I hand the baby blue shirt to my father who’s standing awkwardly in the hallway with both hands covering his junk as I make my way towards the kitchen. “would you like some coffee?” I ask in passing, but don’t wait for an answer and just start making two cups. The last couple of oatmeal cookies will have to do for now, I’ll fix us some real breakfast later.Walking out of the kitchen I see he has taken up the same spot on the sofa again, so
Christian’s P.o.v.:I can feel the emotions run through my little girl, the pain of growing up the way she did and all I want to do is hold her and let her know she’ll be alright, that she has me now and that I will never let her down but the words seem to elude me so I just hold her tight and hope she can sense the love I have for her.The incredibly soft shirt she handed me earlier is soaked in her tears by the time her sobs quiet down, in the quiet hours just before dawn I feel as though our bond has strengthened. My wolf softly rumbles a gratified purr, feeling the most content he has in years. Just holding our pup, even if she’s crying, is all he ever wanted. The burning rage we have held on to for decades seems to fade into the background.I lift her face towards me and wipe the last of her tears away with my thumbs, kissing the top of her head I whisper “happy birthday little one” She looks at me questioningly for a second before the realization sets in. I Kiss her forehead so
Linda’s P.o.v.There’s an unease in the air, thick and suffocating, I can almost see it vibrating, much like the rising heat that’s visible above the asphalted roads on a hot summers-day. Although I have never been able to shift, the wolf gene that’s encoded deep within my blood feels as if it’s bristled, hackles raised and ready to attack.I have tried every single ritual I can think of, from breathing exercises to full on spell work, just to get a premonition on what’s about to happen, but to no avail.Frustrated I throw the bowl of moon water against the wall, shattering the intricate glasswork into a thousand little colorful pieces, sunlight peeking through the old wooden shutters hits the shards and creates a kaleidoscope of miniature rainbows on the cream colored walls of my little personal shrine.I would’ve called it a beautiful sight had I not been so incredibly on edge.Just as I reluctantly grab my broom to clean up the mess I made, the door to my sanctuary is flung open a
Christian’s p.o.v.Pain sears through my paw, the bite of metal on bone excruciating, I know pulling will only make it worse, but my animal side is in full panic mode and no matter how hard I try, I can’t get him to submit.Having hands would sure make this a whole lot easier, but shifting now will definitely cause more damage, I’d probably lose my hand entirely in the process.The crunch of boots on fallen leaves takes my animals terror up another notch, he’s snarling, biting at our paw and the clamp that’s tightly closed around it, blood gushes from the wound, but the adrenaline seems to be blocking out most of the pain for now, from the corner of my eye I can see the gleam of weapons, probably silver and I’m certain my luck has run out, fear grips my heart as the reality sets in, I’ve been captured.Big rough hands grab the scruff of my neck, pushing my nose deep into the mud.All I can smell is blood and damp earth, but judging by the size of the hands and the strength he’s using
We’ve all read them right? Those sappy romance novels, the ones where some handsome stranger rescues the damsel in distress. He’s wealthy like no other and adores the ground she walks on.There’s some life altering event, a struggle of some kind but it gets resolved and they live happily ever after.As cute as they are, and as much as those kind of books can distract you from whatever is going on, that’s just not how life works. Your daily tasks are boring as hell, you have to work your ass off with very little to show for it and if life throws you a curve ball it’s usually not some handsome prince but rather more issues to take care of.Real life just isn’t a fairytale and monsters aren’t real. ... ... Or at least not in the fairytale sense of the word anyway.That being said, let me introduce myself;My name is Tara, 26 years old and pretty much a plain Jane.Although I’m relatively tall for a girl, about 5.9 without heels, I’m nothing special to look at, not thick, not thin but so
Chapter two:The Dense trees loom overhead and the air carries a damp, earthy scent.As I rush deeper and deeper into the woods, a sense of unease creeps up my spine. The towering trees cast long, eerie shadows that dance and sway with the gentle breeze. Each rustle of leaves or snap of a twig sends shivers down my spine, making me hyper-aware of my surroundings.The path ahead is uneven, covered in fallen leaves and overgrown vegetation. I stumble occasionally, my shoes sinking into the muddy ground making it harder and harder to keep the pace I set when I started my track through these woods. The silence is unsettling, broken only by the occasional hoot of an owl or the distant caw of a crow.Every step forward feels like a test of my courage, my mind conjuring up all sorts of unknown dangers lurking in the shadows. I feel like I’m being watched, which is absolutely absurd, no one ever ventures out here. It’s part of the reason I nearly begged our local realtor to find out who owned
The morning continues on the way it always does.The same people coming in around the same time, ordering mostly the same things time and time again, so I’m taking the orders, serving the food, pouring cups of coffee, wiping down counters, cleaning up tables, mundane and repetitive, nothing has changed. By the time 10am rolls around the diner has quieted down to just 3 elderly gentlemen sipping coffee and eating apple pie while talking about their glory days, what-ever a neighbor did or said recently and expressing how the whole world is going to hell, based on a half read article in the newspaper.Knowing it wont get any busier until around noon I walk over to Linda and ask if it’s ok to take slightly longer break than usual. With my truck out of commission I’ll have to walk over to the repair shop and hope Joe or mister Jackson, who owns the garage, is willing to drive out to my place and tow the truck into town for repairs.Maybe I should ask her if I can work the evening shift as
I can’t believe mister Jackson refuses to check out back, there is absolutely no way that was just an echo, there’s no way the sound of a tv could carry in a way that it sounds like there’s a battle going on just outside the door I was standing at, even if he had the windows open and the volume at it’s maximum, it just can not be, the shouting, the cussing, the sound of that angry dog, that was undoubtedly real and it was close!The firm grip on my shoulder made it almost painfully obvious he didn’t want me to know what was going on, if it really had been his TV, he wouldn’t have had such a firm grip on me, he wouldn’t almost have dragged me away, would he? Maybe he’s hosting illegal dogfights, I think to myself, could that be the reason he’s trying to make absolutely sure I am kept away from the back of the garage?I’ve been in his office for at least 20 minutes now, being asked all kinds of questions about the make and model of my truck, what’s wrong with it, if I had done any mainte