What We Are Part 3

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STILL TRISTAN:

“Where's your house?” I demanded. My chest felt like it was caving in, as if I could feel Zeke's precious life draining from his body from where I stood, I felt myself growing weak from lack of oxygen—why wasn't the any air?

“Just down the street on the other side with the roses!” he shouted after my retreating figure, the feeling of Zeke dying got stronger as I got closer to the nearly identical miniature mansion. The door was locked but when I rammed it, the lock snapped like a dry twig.

“Who are you and what are you doing in our house?!” A woman snarled, appearing before me, she was as stunningly beautiful as her son, but wearing distinctly male clothes, I guess it was a backwards thing or something, but there was no way with hair and a face like that—

“My husband asked you a question!” I turned and there stood Chris's actual mother, next to her, her husband and son looked positively brutishly masculine, but I had no time to notice.

“Please!” I begged, falling to my knees between them, clasping my hands. “My mate is a friend of your son, Christopher's, he thinks I rejected him and he's lying upstairs dying! Please let me go to him!” A sob caught in my throat, the woman snarled and looked disgusted.

“Oh, please, mutt, mates are unheard of anymore, and what deity in their right mind would pair a wolf with a—?”

“Veronica,” the man held up his hand, silencing his wife with a look, “smell it? He's telling the truth, go on up, son.” he stepped aside, rushing up after me. His breath caught when he was Zeke and my heart broke, already he was the powder blue pallor of death, he looked thinner and smaller than before and somehow, even more beautiful. “Oh, my, we'll leave you two in peace.”

Respectfully he bowed out of the room, closing the door as he did. The sound of it snapping shut shook me back to reality, I ran to him then, landing beside him on the over stuffed hot pink comforter. “Zeke? Zeke, baby, can you hear me?” I sobbed. His body jerked as if touched by a live wire. “Zeke!” I cried, his eyes fluttered open revealing deadened black eyes. I nearly shuttered, recognizing that look from the day my mother died, Zeke had awakened in some way in the midst of his death throes.

“Tristan?” he croaked. His eyes opened wider and he shot away from me faster than my eyes could track, by the time I relocated him, he was curled in a ball in the corner of Chris's room, shaking from head to toe. “Don't look at me, don't look at me, don't look at me...not like this, I don't want you to remember me looking like this....”

“Zeke, I wasn't rejecting you! I still l-love you, it's just that my mom was killed by...o-one of your kind, it was a shock, but...” His head had whipped around to stare at me with those deep ebony eyes, it looked as if his soul had been devoured by a black pit. I blinked and Zeke was standing in front of me, bloody tears leaking down his face.

“Then reject me fully, go on and live your life with a girl or something, have kids a litter the whole nine yards, but if you're going to fear me and detest what I am, if when it comes the time for us to mate and I have to bite you that you shrink away I don't want it. That isn't love, Tristan, that's pity, and I refuse to be pitied.” I never thought I would see calm cool and collected Ezekiel Misery like this, all pent up anger and gloriously standing tall with his chin held high, his blackened eyes burning holes in me. I loved this side of him, instead of being frightened I was dangerously close to being aroused to the point it was obvious.

“It's not pity, Zeke...I'm falling for you and falling hard, it just kinda freaked me out at first...I reacted badly and I'm sorry, if it'll prove to you that I'm serious and that I can do this....you can bite me.”

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