*ON HOLD* The Theon Revelations (The Ancients Series)

FOUR.

No...

That truth is a bit harder to swallow and I am not referring to the fact that I have yet to prove to myself that I am a werewolf. "I'm a twenty-two year old virgin, fae-wolf," inhaling deep, I grind my teeth against the ludicrousness of my immature hormones, "I guarantee you, your nakedness bothers me! Now put on some fucking clothes!"

Peering down at my pants, I thank my lucky stars they haven't tented in unabashed desire before glancing up to the sky with a curious, arched brow. A naked woman was just in front of me and nothing? Seriously? But multiple dreams of Evie and... my cock tingles with the thought of her name and I pinch my brows, ready and willing for this day to be over—this month, this year, this LIFE in general...

Kill me now, please.

Rustling sounds from the underbrush keep me a statue towards the opposite direction as I distinctly listen to a disgruntled hybrid rant under her breath, "You are so strange."

"And you're not the only one who agrees with that statement," I called over my shoulder. The forest becomes eerily quiet, her movements immediately cease with the horrifying knowledge that I did, in fact, just hear every word she huffed. The only sound that comes from her now is the adrenaline that is surging through her veins from her erratically pounding heart.

Yes, wolves hear everything—hybrid status aside, she knows this. What she has yet to discover is that I am not the normal, every day wolf she's accustomed to and the simple act of a minuscule werewolf mumble will never be lost on me. I hear more than just everything.

"How'd you-"

"Are you decent yet?"

"Uh, yeah..."

I turn to face her astonished and oddly mesmerized features. Pointing to myself, I repeat your assessment of me, "Strange. Remember?"

Those same blue eyes she usually sports abruptly turn a golden amber. My head cocks to the side, seeing the first sign of her faerie genes rise to the surface. Hooded by her lids, they're calm and serene. She raises her head towards that blasphemous sky, the dying sunlight glistening off her dark locks and tinting them a dusky hue. She then inhales deeply as a light breeze flows through the trees.

The wind caresses me, whipping my clothes and skimming its feathered touch through my hair. It wraps around me like a blanket before moving onward and right past Maddy toward the rest of the awaiting forest, susurration left in its wake.

And when all is said and done those golden fae eyes find me once more. "You are a special breed, Theon Lucan Valerius," she declares, her voice now layered with another higher-pitched, more whimsical tone, "You will prove most useful in the days to come."

Now it's my turn for shock and awe... but the desperation of understanding what I am wins out and I find my own voice rather fast, "What do you know?"

She languorously scans me from head to toe, the forest continuing to whisper hidden knowledge and uncovered secrets around us, "Do not despair. Your wolf waits patiently to shift. It cannot be forced."

"What do you mean by that?"

"He is waiting for his trigger."

A trigger.

Dad said fury is always the trigger and yet, it has not seemed to matter how angry I become, I still cannot shift. "But I've been angry—many times! It never happens!"

"You are different," the faerie smirks, "Anger will not bring forth your wolf like others. Patience, Theon." Golden orbs flicker around the forest before landing upon me once again, "You have a purpose. We all do. Nature doesn't make mistakes. Your time is coming... soon."