The Lost Stories

To Claim What is His.

© CRGangell aka Whitesabretooth

AN: NOT EDITED.

Hi everyone,

Here is another short story, this one surrounding Harper, I don't know if I like the title so if you can think of a better one please let me know. I hope you enjoy it!

Have fun.

To Claim What Is His.

The young man woke with a start, he glanced around the bunk room, his beast, a weird mix between Were and St Claire, was on high alert. Slowly he took a deep breath but all he could smell was his wing mates but that meant little. As a tenth-year battle school student, it wasn't uncommon for the instructors to wake them in the middle of the night but all was silent so why was he awake. Slowly he got up and quietly left the room and walked over to the bathroom to take care of his business. As he washed his hands he stared into the mirror, he was muscular although still on the leaner side like his father and like his father glossy black, green and purple wings grew from his shoulders. He had his mother's eyes but definitely took more after his father in looks although he was always going to be smaller and leaner than his father because his St Claire genes were a little more prominent in his body. One thing he loved about being part Da'Vaila... he didn't have to shave, the school had a rule about being clean shaven.

He studied himself for a moment, he was only a few weeks shy of graduating from the school, then he could finally go and claim what was his. He had known since he was a toddler that Alpha Cass was his important to him, her scent called to him, he desired it and when he was finally old enough to learn his mate's scent he had recognised it at once. With that, he finally understood why his family had discouraged him from calling her his Aunt as it would confuse him later in life. He could understand why she had tried to stay away, not that understanding had helped with the hurt of her avoiding him when he was younger.

"Why are you up?" A sleepy female voice asked as it walked into the room, Harper slept in the bunk next to her and she had developed a habit of waking when he did because generally when he woke in the middle of the night it was for a reason.

"Mikayla did I wake you?" he asked his wing leader and best friend.

Mikayla, an Atlantian, shook her head as she stumbled into the toilet stall. "Thinking about your mate again?" she asked as she went to the toilet.

Harper rolled his eyes, "When am I not thinking about her?"

"When I am kicking your arse in the battle ring," Mikayla remarked as she flushed and walked out to wash her hands.

Harper glared at her the whites of his eyes partially went black before they went back to white. "I let you win!" he exclaimed, the Master who was also his cousin, had warned him against going all St Claire/Sabre at the school, at least until he was older. She had warned him that it was possible that he could scare his wing mates if he did, and the few times he had used the traits of his blood lines he had freaked out those around him. So he trained those traits in private, Aunt Jasmine and Aunt Amy came to the school specifically to train him.

Mikayla dried her hands, "Yeah... you keep telling yourself that." She teased, she had seen Harper use the traits of his blood once by accident as she had stumbled upon a training session so she knew that he was holding back during their duels, but still, it was fun to tease him.

The school alert siren started to go off.

Mikayla turned to Harper, "Your ability to know danger... sucks!" She raced from the room to rouse her wing, Harper ran out after her and willed his school armour on. "I hate you!" she told him with loathing as she shut a privacy curtain to get dressed.