Alpha Paris (Completed)

Chapter Sixteen "You are mine, at least in my eyes."

3-25/ 4-4- 17
1,142 Words
Paris's Pov-

Love.

Never did I ever think I could, or would. When I was a little girl, and my mother had told me the story I told you at the beginning of this book, about time, I never thought it would actually occur to me, that I would fall in love, or even be able to love.

My mother did tell me a story about love, but it was different, it was wiser. It was hard for me to comprehend the real meaning of it, but now that I'm older than the age of six, I can understand the story of life, the story she had told me, the real story that I grew up to learn, and to know.

And I understand it.

She used to take a string of my hair, as we say in the meadow by the cliff, and she'd grab the prettiest white wildflower and put it behind my ear, telling me stories for each pedal.

I remember the one flower, the wisest story of all, that has been past trough the Evans family for hundreds of generations.

And it all started with a human.

"Why does this flower have so little pedals mamma? I've never seen one like this." I look up at her with my glowing blue eyes, into her dark ones.

"Well my love, every generation has one wildflower with the pedals that amount to the family story. You my dear, have been blessed with this flower to grow up to these stories, that at one time were true." Her lips purse, her hand still holding my ear delicately.

"Even if it involves magic?" I whisper, and she nods with a smile, a wise smile.

"Even if it involves magic, Paris." She shuts her eyes, and takes the hand on my ear, and grabs my hand with it, caressing it in a loving, motherly way.

She points to the first pedal, the first out of two.

"They were in Paris, France. It was huge, busy streets, people everywhere on the sidewalks, laughter, grins, humans. At this time, there was no such belief in werewolves, early civilizations had just made Paris a city. No werewolves in the world, until a boy named, Francis Dé Sancho, got an unknown disease. He didn't know how he got it, but somehow he could control things.. things that were impossible to control. He had believed the disease came from when he was in the college, mixing chemicals to start a treatment, when he accidentally cut himself and the treatment entered his veins. A scientist has to he careful, but he was just a young boy, only twenty-two. He didn't know any better, he didn't know what to do, so he just went home. He felt perfectly fine, so he went to bed."

My eyes are intent on her face, the ghost features of excitement dancing in her eyes, an unknown sparkle I haven't seen in ages.

"He woke up to excruciating pain, sweat all over his forehead as his body tried to fight the fever, but failed horribly. He went through the night screaming, each bone in his body cracking and over a few hours, the first werewolf was born."

I look up at her with amazement, my mouth opened in happiness.

"Francis didn't know how to shift, so he followed the smell of sweet perfume, the smell of peaches. The smell of his mate. His lips were like a drought, dry and cracked and he didn't know what he was following, all he knew was it was a sense. A smell. So, naturally he followed it. When he found who it was he was following,-" she pauses, smiling at me.

"He fell... in love."

I wanted to be like Francis, I wanted to fall in love with my mate and be with them forever, and maybe I can. But is it really true to have two mates? I believed it was impossible, but when I met Legend, we snapped together like puzzle pieces.

When I had thought, Xavier was my mate.. Could I have really been more wrong? I mean, Xavier? Yeah.. We felt the sparks, the love, the passion. But did we ever really feel? Or were we just believing that we felt that?

I feel warmth on my hand, it surges from the tips of my fingernails, through my hands to my arms, through my whole body until my head is overwhelmed, and my toes are tingly. I open my eyes quickly, blinking in the darkness.

That's when I see Xavier, wearing a loose grey v-neck, and some sweatpants, sitting on the edge of the bed, holding my hand as he looks to the opposite direction of me, staring out of the window intently.

"How did I let you go?" He whispers, a tear falling from his eye and down his cheek, the liquid slowly rolling down and I want to move, to push the tear from his face.

But I don't.

I stay still, and watch him silently as he is unknowing of my alertness, of me being awake.

"We could've been forever.. you and I until the end of our life time, Lance as our little son. We could've watched him grow up to a full man together, we could've loved unconditionally. We could've fully mated." He shuts his eyes for a split second before moving his face towards mine slowly, giving me enough time to shut my eyes and act as if I'm asleep.

"I wanted to love you forever Paris, after all you were named after the city of love. I wanted to hold you forever, take care of you.. I know you're here right now, but for how long? How long until you leave?" I feel his warm breath on my ear, his body leaning closer to mine until ours touch, and the warmth that had once tingled when we were mates..

It appears again.

But we are not mates. Not anymore.

"I want you to be awake so you can feel what I feel, so I can give you what you want. I want you to stay babe.. I want you to stay so I can love you, so you can bare my pups."

His lips meet my ear and it sends shivers down my spine. "I want you to be here forever.. I want you to be mine." I feel his lips move away from my ear, I feel his shadow cast upon my face.

"You are mine, at least in my eyes." Nothing could have ever warned me about what would happen next.

No one, nothing...

I couldn't have been warned, that my ex-mate, who is supposed to be a rogue but never became one, would lay his lips upon mine.

His lips were upon mine, for the last time.