Chapter 1

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Revised Chapter

Chapter 1


There are always two sides to a person—one they show the world and one they keep to themselves. Although for some, the façade is worn like second skin, comfortable enough not to be suffocating, for others, being completely free of any deception is like getting a breath of fresh air after drowning for so long in lies.

Years of walking upright, pretending my senses were as blind and dull as a human, has made me perpetually irritable. I wanted to shed my human skin and run on all paws as far and often as I could, but that wasn't possible. Not with how the pack that adopted me when I was young thought me wholly human.

The brightness of the moon softly illuminated the trees as I ran through the forest, easily moving past rocks and branches. This late at night when the people of the nearby city and the wolves of the pack house are asleep, I usually shift for ten minutes and just run—enjoying even fleetingly of letting only my instincts take over. I would have loved to run more than ten minutes but with the pack so near and easily woken, I could be easily discovered.

I slowed down to a trot, closed my eyes and sniffed the air. Still good, I thought, making sure that I had no scent. Better to err on the side of caution than risk being discovered by them.

Someone groaned softly.

I snapped my head to where the sound came from, instantaneously becoming more alert. At this time of night, nobody is usually awake, even werewolves. Because there has been no threat or discord in this pack in the past decade, werewolves have become careless when it came to their safety. Erring on the side of caution like securing the perimeter, keeping watch of supernaturals or supes that comes into their territory, has been ignored. I'm not sure about other supes, but with the pack I'm in, it's magnanimously obvious how closely they are to living like humans. Which is why being awake at night, and not making use of the cover of darkness to live like the beasts that we are, has become the norm.

The soft whine and groans became louder as I trudged slowly to where the sounds were coming from. There was a chance that it was an injured animal, but my doubt increased until I was sure that the groaning couldn't be anything but two people frolicking at night.

It's Tate, I thought, recognizing his scent in the air along with the resident hoe, Trisha. I have really really nothing against her, only that she—and everybody in the pack—belittles me every chance they get because I'm human, the bottom of the ladder of species. Also, along with her winning attitude, she loves to make out and wrap herself around my mate, like what she's doing right now, I saw as I peered past the bush.

Tate's blonde hair was almost white in the soft light of the moon as he leaned Trisha down the ground and continued kissing her.

I turned my eyes away. I've already seen enough. Not just tonight, but each day since Trisha grew into her boobs and she seduced him in the hopes of becoming the mate of the future head of the pack. With how things are between them, looks like she's on her way there.

A cloying, sweetly bitter scent permeated the air as their bodies continued to move against each other. I gagged as soon as I smelled it. Not being able to take it anymore, I ran.

The heady scent, a result of their intimacy, was nauseating and seemed to follow me even as I ran as fast as I could back to my cottage. This shouldn't affect me this much, I thought, hoping like hell that on willpower alone could I forget how Tate looked as he fervently kissed her. Someone who isn't his mate.

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