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Everyone's Mate (BoyxBoy)

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Authors note: Sorry for not updating for so long. Those of you that fanned me know the reason. But for those of you that didn't, it was because I dropped and consequently broke my one source of internet, my dogs ran away (They have come back), and stressful situations have been going on irl. I have a new computer, and it is my baby. I have dubbed it 'butters'. Now, enjoy the chapter I wrote! My idea changed a bit, but, there is much more to look forward to.

Love.

I never thought I would have it.

Of course I remember back when mom, father, and I, lived happy human lives together. Sometimes I imagine my life would be better if I were still mortal.

Thier faces are blurred, their voices are muted, but I still know things they told me.

"I love you."

"I'll always be there for you."

"Mommy and Daddy love you. You're our special little boy."

....Lies.

Or at least, at the time, they weren't. Those people believed what they told me with all their heart, and even that wasn't enough to save them. I beleived them, and I suffered the concequences.

I beleived in each werewolf who declared his love for me, and still, I suffered in the end.

Nothing hurts more than being dissapointed by the people you thought would never hurt you.

And they wonder why I have trust issues.

I hold onto those memories. I remember the feel of a kind maternal hand, and the strong protective one of a father, but I have forgotten their faces. Their voices. Everything about them that made them them.

I have always been alone.

Over all the people I had been with in my life, none had loved me from the bottom of my heart. Except my parents. But their love did nothing for me in the end. It only caused pain.

But really. What can love do?

Cause hurt. Agony. Those butterflies in your tummy turn to daggers sooner or later.

Some people say love can bring the biggest happiness. I've never seen it in action. And if I don't see it with my own eyes, then to me, it doesn't exist like that.

If love makes the world go round, no wonder we all live in this shit hole.

You say you love the rain, but you open the umbrella when it rains.

You say that you love the sun, but you find a shady spot when it shines.

You say you love the wind, but you close your windows when the wind blows.

This is why I'm afraid when someone says they love me.

In reality, people hurt the things they love.

And since all love has done is hurt me again and again, I'm afraid to love, because then I might do the exact same thing to that person.

The life I've had could turn a good man bad....

.....

....

......

..

.

I ran. To where, I didn't know. I just knew I was running. It seems I've done a lot of that in my life.

I can hear them.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Is that my own heart?

 No..It's something else.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

I want to open my eyes, but I can't. They won't see anything.

Or, maybe, they're already open.

Yes, that was what that sound was. My paws, hitting the ground.

And then I hear more paws. Following me. Something's following me.

My legs fumble for a quick moment, and then I feel that falling sensation. I hit the ground pretty hard and tumble a ways until I'm staring down my muzzle at the sky.

My muscles ache pretty bad. I had been running for a long time, Hadn't I?

But it all flew by so fast. It was my wolf. He'd taken me here...but where was here?

A second of looking around, and I noticed I was no-man's territory, not far from where my house was.

A howl broke me out of my drugged state. My head began aching something aweful, pounding like two angry lesbians at my door.

I saw a streak of red and then something barreled into me, taking me by surprise. It was something big, with claws larger than mine, with jaws that could nearly encompass my entire skull.

Pain flashed a second later, and I yelped loudly, scrambling on the ground for a hold. It was a wolf, and it smelled unfamiliar.

You see, every pack has a smell. And it smelled unlike them. The only other wolves I was aware of in this vicinity were rogues. The one currently chomping down on my neck might be a loner, but, loners were scavengers. They never attacked first, especially not in a rage like this.

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