One Shots (+18)

Mate

The moment the door opened, the odd feelings I had back at the garden came back, if not stronger. Goosebumps literally took over my whole body and a shudder rocked me to the core. As he welcomed the men into our house, the feeling only got more intense. My wolf was clamouring wildly inside of me, wanting to come out. I left before I shifted right there on the steps. If I was going to involuntarily shift, doing it in my own space was better than exposing myself like that and getting that dreadful punishment my father promised me.

I ran up the steps, not slowing until my bedroom door was safely locked behind me. Taking deep breaths, I tried to calm myself and my wolf. Then remembering I was supposed to be helping, I scrambled into the small bathroom, almost ripping my clothes trying to get them off.

I grabbed a quick shower that shouldn't have exceeded ten minutes. I was looking in the closet for an outfit to wear as I towel-dried my body. I settled on a grey, buttoned, long-sleeved top and a black midi skirt that belonged to my mother. I blow-dried my long blonde hair in record speed then slipped into my outfit. I didn't prefer to wash my hair at such short timing, but I stank, and my father would have my head if I served his important guests when I smelled just the slightest bit unpleasant.

I inspected myself in the mirror; my pale skin was uncharacteristically flushed, my aquamarine-blue eyes felt too big in my small face and my usually pale lips were pink and parted. My dried long hair trailed down to my waist in waves. My mama used to call me a mermaid because of my wavy, streaky blonde hair. She used to say that I had every shade of blonde in my hair. I recalled the memories of her brushing my hair and being in awe of it, and a small, sad smile tugged at my lips.

I loved my outfit, especially the flowy skirt that shifted with my every movement. However, I thought the innocent outfit felt scandalous on my body; the ribbed fabric of my top felt constricting as it outlined my curves indecently and the scoop neck rested too low on my chest that I thought would expose my cleavage if I bent just a little. I somehow inherited my mama's voluptuous figure, which I felt didn't suit my tiny frame and made me look overly suggestive.

Stacy always bullied me for my body, which made me more self-conscious than I already was, considering her hour-glass figure and her tall frame. She towered over me, which made bullying me even more humiliating. I envied her small perky breasts and thin thighs. While her hour-glass figure would enable her to rock whatever she wanted to wear, I had to be careful with my clothing so my body wasn't exaggerated.

I was almost going to change my outfit when Mrs. Jones mind-linked me, urging me to get a move on to serve their drinks. I slipped into my black flats and hurried downstairs into the kitchen. I grabbed the large tray with a steady hand, making my way into the reception room.

The moment I entered, goosebumps attacked my flesh and a shiver threatened to make me drop my tray on the thoroughly-cleaned rug. Conversation ceased and it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Eyes solely focused on the wobbling drinks, I shakily made my way to the rustic wooden table, all the while feeling a set of unnerving eyes following me. Conversation flowed back as if I never came and I relaxed a little as the attention wasn't all on me.

I unexpectedly stumbled as I walked, almost dropping the drinks and a familiar growl sounded to my right. I righted myself immediately and placed the tray shakily on the table, the drinks miraculously surviving my stumble. Dropping my head in respect, I walked as normally as I could until I was out of sight. I heard another growl as I left, this one deeper, less familiar, and had my wolf responding with a mewl of its own but I stifled it. I fled into the kitchen, hand over my chest, breathing hard.

"What's wrong?" Mrs. Jones asked, concerned.

My insides were in turmoil; my heart was pumping wildly in my chest, my wolf was excitable as ever, and I had this strange feeling in the pit of my stomach that I couldn't quite put my finger on.

"I need a minute," I whispered before I fled the kitchen, running as quietly as I could to a nearby unused bathroom. I closed the door then propped my arms against the sink. My breathing was laboured and my heart pumped wildly in my chest.

I've never been like this; never felt anything less than composed. I've learned from a young age to control my feelings in order to avoid getting picked on. If they smelled just a hint of emotion, they would use it against me in painful ways I didn't want to experience again. It was already hard living with them when my only shield was gone.

I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths, thinking of the garden, of its beauty and how it's fragrant aroma always soothed me. I closed my eyes and envisioned myself there; surrounded by lush greenery, beautiful flowers and tall trees. I instantly calmed down, returning to that zen place in my head.

Smiling, I turned around, ready to get back to helping Mrs. Jones, when my head hit against a hard wall. Wincing in pain,I opened my eyes and realised it wasn't a wall, but a dark-clothed, sturdy chest. I was so in my thoughts that I failed to notice that someone entered the bathroom with me.

I gulped as his scent hit me. My wolf was going crazy, growling obscene things in my head. The tall person that I was scared to look up to bent down, bringing us eye-to-eye. Angry, dark eyes stared back at me, and my eyes widened equally in fear and shock.

"Mate."

***
To be continued...