Do You Or Do You Not Want Me, Mate.

Do you or do you not want me, mate - Chapter Three

Do you or do you not want me, mate.

Copyright © 2011 All rights reserved

Chapter Three

Picture on the side is Travis (Model Braeden Baade).

Travis stood in front of his mansion's front door with a blank stare. He looked like shit; his shirt  was soaked to the skin, his jeans were caked with mud, and yet he couldn't care less on what he looked like right now. All he knew was that he felt dead, lifeless and if it was possible, he felt like his life had no meaning or purpose.

Series of thoughts fleeted in his mind, and unfortunately, none of them made sense at the moment, but the only thing that stood out was the need to vent out. He was on edge, angry and most of all, he felt like destroying something.

He was like a bull ready to charge on the matador.

With that rage stirring in him, he flung the front door open with bang and there, he had the perfect idea for letting out his rage.

He was going to trash the fucking place up.

A wicked grin spread across Travis lips when he charged towards the first thing he had his sights on - a 200 year old grandfather clock. His dad had a thing for the classicist and rustic furnishing. He took great pride with his taste and every single damn thing in this mansion was freaking antique. Travis knew he was going to be in loads of trouble when his dad found out that his beloved antiques were destroyed, but did he care with the after math?

No, he didn't care at all.

With that, Travis headed for the ginormous clock and when he reached it, he gripped the sides of it and threw it, using his werewolf strength to the other side of the room with a loud crash. He took in the damage he had done and he felt appeased, seeing the broken pieces of that once proud clock that his father purchased at some antique dealer. He looked around for his next victim and when he did, he chuckled humorlessly.

His mother's expensive vases.

As Travis picked one up, he wasted no time as he flung it in no particular direction and he then picked another and flung it in a similar fashion. It was a repetitive cycle and he was nowhere near done with his rampage.

He was definitely on the roll.

Once Travis noticed he ran out of vases to break, he turned his attention to his mom's Swarovski crystal figurines. Now that was something interesting to break. His mother kept them in a cabinet to keep out of harms way, considering a lot of wolves - with young ones too boot -  were staying at the mansion. She couldn't afford to have one missing - or worst - broken so she had them placed in a mahogany cabinet, all lined up in a organized fashion, so without further ado, he went over to the cabinet, opened it and had a party in throwing them everywhere. It was raining crystals, and he couldn't wait to see his mother's face when she found out that her precious figurines had turned into shards.

While Travis was on his rampage streak, he didn't notice his father's pissed off Alpha aura, making the air crackle like electricity.

Uh-oh.

"Travis James Vinova!" a deep, gruff voice yelled out. "What the hell are you doing?!"

Travis stiffened at his father's voice then relaxed immediately, showing he wasn't afraid. He had Alpha blood running through his veins and that menacing voice didn't affect him. He turned around slowly and there he was, his father, Trenton Vinova, standing a few feet away from him with his arms crossed over his chest, and boy was he pissed...