[ down to my core ]

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A bit of a shorter chapter, but I hope you all enjoy it anyway.  This is where it gets really fun.

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It had been two weeks since Taylor had found out the truth.  Two weeks.  Fourteen days.  And somehow that was enough time for the reality of it all to sink in.  She'd done more research, constantly texting Karlie with questions about which lore to believe.  And the model always seemed perfectly happy to answer, obviously just relieved that Taylor was curious rather than painting her black with the word 'monster' like the very few others who know had done.

There were some topics Taylor hadn't broached.  Mates were one of them.  One consistency in every different definition she read said that, like real wolves, werewolves mated for life.  And Taylor couldn't help but wonder what that meant for Karlie.  It was a hit-or-miss thing.  Either she was it or she wasn't, and there was nothing else.  It scared her.  She loved Karlie, she was committed to Karlie, but that was like taking a novel and cutting it short, printing in the 'the end' before the story had really gotten started. 

Maybe the fact that Karlie had been able to control herself for the first time when it came to ripping Taylor apart was significant.  Maybe it was a fluke.  But the memory drilled at her like she was sitting open-mouthed at the dentist, and the anesthesia was wearing off.  She'd seen vicious eyes change, softening at the sight of her.  She'd seen massively powerful muscles melt like ice cream or snow.  She'd heard low thunder growls turn to soft puppy whimpers.

It was so much to take in.  And there was another thing.  This was a single word, painted on a giant canvas standing twenty feet high behind her eyes.  Invulnerability.  Unless it came to wolfsbane, silver bullets, or extremely severe injuries or illness, Karlie couldn't die.  Her aging was slowed as well, which was perhaps why when Taylor placed her current photos next to ones from two years ago, there was no notable difference.

And that scared her even more than forever.  Becaus her forever would be decades, centuries, eons shorter than Karlie's.  And if wolves mated for life, how would it work if one day in 70 years she grew old and withered and died (hopefully peacefully, in her sleep) and Karlie was still in a body in its late 30's or early 40's, still filled with energy and light, alone until some horrible circumstances eventually took her life too?  The thought of Karlie walking around with the gaping, oozing crater of loneliness in her chest for so long made Taylor feel nauseous.  

But she was afraid to bring it up, scared to know what Karlie would say.  The only real solution would be if Karlie turned her, and the model had already blasted that possibility to smithereens.  Taylor wasn't certain if she was happy about that or not.  And the fact she was maybe a little upset that her girlfriend wouldn't turn her into a werewolf was a thought that sent her head into a wild tailspin.

"You're thinking too hard."

Karlie's voice snapped her out of her thoughts, warm and hot and a growl against her ear.  Teeth nipped at the lobe, and the singer whimpered quietly.  Karlie was right.  She was thinking far too much, when she should have been enjoying the very fun, extremely sexy part of all of this.  Karlie had enhanced strength and speed, and a sense of possessive agression that always made Taylor regret wearing her nice underwear.

Currently, she was pressed against the mattress, Karlie straddling her.  Even as Taylor snapped fully out of her thoughts, hands gripped her wrists, and Karlie pinned them above her head.  She held them there with one hand, and there was something incredibly arousing and also terrifying in the realization that Taylor wouldn't be able to pull away.  Karlie was just that much stronger than her, and she could see muscles working beneath the skin revealed by a tight blue tank top.

The free hand trailed up her thighs, nails curling.  There was something about Karlie, something recklessly rough and thoughtfully tender all at once.  Taylor could feel the adoration in the faint pink scratches left on her skin.  She could feel love and dedication in the little nibbles Karlie planted along the collar of her blouse. 

Her hand was moving ever higher, pushing the fabric up Taylor's thighs.  Cool air had just stroked the source of all that heat between her thighs when the doorbell to Karlie's apartment rang.  The werewolf let out a sigh of annoyance, then leaned down, nipping Taylor's throat just hard enough to inspire a whimper.

"Saved by the bell," Karlie chuckled, and then she was straightening out her shirt and bounding down the hall, faster than Taylor could even begin to keep up with.  As fast as the wolf in her chest.

Taylor sighed shakily, wondering if this is what guys meant when they talked about blueballs.  She and Karlie had yet to go father than heated make-out sessions.  It was a sort of mutual agreement.  Four months was a long time, but somewhere deep down they were both still heartfelt romantics that wanted it all to be perfect.  That skirt had been pushed extremely high up her thighs, and it was farther than they'd gone before, but Taylor knew that even then, it probably wouldn't have gone all the way.

Knowing she'd have to take care of things herself later, Taylor readjusted her skirt, rising to her feet.  There was a pink-purple mark on her neck in the shape of Karlie's teeth, and she sighed, knowing she'd have to wear scarves for a few days.  But honestly, she didn't really mind.  She could still feel the faint, buzzing sting of the bite just beneath her skin.  But human Karlie bites were safe.  It was only in wolf form that she'd turn.

Still a little weak in the knees, Taylor walked down the hallway.  Karlie heard and smelled Taylor long before the girl even entered the room, because Taylor was still partway down the hallway when Karlie said, "These aren't from you, are they?"

She walked into the room, and found Karlie holding a bouquet of flowers that had been delivered to the door.  They were all different types and colors, much more scattered of an arrangement than Taylor would have liked, let alone bought.  She shook her head, filled with a spike of jealousy, wondering who they were from, "I didn't send them.  If I was going to get you flowers, I'd bring them to you myself."

Karlie spun the bouquet in her hands, and suddenly, her eyebrows rose.  She reached in, plucking out a small white card.  Taylor expected her to read it out loud, but instead, Karlie just read it with eyes narrowed.  She watched her face lose all of its color like the blood all sloshed to her feet, and suddenly Karlie whipped on her heel, shoving the bouquet into the garbage can and turning the sink on hot.  She pumped a gratuitous amount of soap, smearing it up her arms, scrubbing until Taylor was sure her skin was raw.

"What's going on?" Taylor asked, nervous, confused.

Karlie continued to scrub her hands, but now it looked more panicked than determined, "I have an ex-boyfriend.  His name is Josh.  He knows all about the...what I am, and he hates it.  He hates me.  He sent those flowers to me, and I don't trust it at all."

Taylor didn't ask why Josh hated Karlie, why Karlie didn't trust him.  Instead, she just watched the girl scrub her hands until the skin cracked, then Karlie dried them off.  She looked at Taylor with wide eyes, filled with faint specks of fear, "Can we just sit down and watch TV?"  She sounded like a frightened child, and Taylor was starting to shift from worried to afraid.

But she agreed, leading the taller girl into the living room.  They found reruns of Mythbusters (a guilty pleasure of Karlie's), and for a while, things were fine, despite Karlie's nervous breathing.  But after about twenty minutes, Taylor heard a quiet gasp, a murmur of "oh god".  And then Karlie was on her feet and racing down the hallway.

Taylor jumped up, following her, and by the time she caught up, she watched Karlie's knees greet the bathroom floor quite harshly.  She watched her empty the contents of her stomach into the toilet, and Taylor pulled her girlfriend's hair back, too frightened to feel nauseous herself, "Karlie, it's okay.  It probably was just from dinne---"

"Wolfsbane," Karlie cut her off, gasping.  She vomited again, and Taylor thought she glimpsed blood.  She closed her eyes, and Karlie spoke once more, "Josh...I think...I think he put wolfsbane in the bouquet."

Wolfsbane.

Paragraphs of research all came back at once, winding around Taylor like a boa constrictor.  She felt her vision blur.

Wolfsbane.

One of the only things that could kill werewolves.

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