The Lone Wolf

One

'Soulmate' – Noun – A person ideally suited to another as a close friend or a romantic partner. Which pretty much means the person you are destined to be with, someone who knows you better than you know yourself.

'Mate' – Noun – A sexual partner of a bird or other animal. A fellow member or friend.

OR.

Verb – Come together for breeding. A connect or to be connected mechanically. Pretty much meaning something similar to Soulmate but more the fact that it's more sexual.

So, it came to my surprise that my supposed 'mate' was neither of these terms. He was, in polite terms, a Douche.

'Douche' – Noun – An obnoxious or contemptible person (typically used of a man)

Though I wouldn't call him a man. Jaxon was a boy. A mere image of a man. Because if he was a man or even knew the definition of 'Mate' and 'Soulmate' he would not have done what he had done. In the term of a 'mate' for my special kind, werewolf, the term means someone you are destined to be with, not only in life but the after life. A special kind of scent can be sniffed and their inner wolf goes crazy. A single touch is just beautiful and gives you and your inner wolf the best feeling in the world. There bond is very strong, the moment they mate with each other it's the strongest bond anyone will have; stronger than a human bond.

The single, awful moment when I found out my 'Mate' was nothing like their definition nor the what folk law has told me, I died. My inner wolf died or at least felt betrayed.

Jaxon.

Jaxon. Jaxon. Jaxon.

I mean who calls there son 'Jaxon'. It's only just making him sound worse than he probably is, or even telling him to be a douche. Like honestly, spell Jackson right. It's with a 'ck' not a bloody 'x'. It's only going to cause trouble. And it did. It caused trouble with me finding my one and only. Fucking Jaxon.

That boys name rang there my ears, my eyes and my head. His name repeated over and over and over. I couldn't shake it. No matter how hard I tried, I was in pain from even thinking about that name.

When you'd ask anyone in the pack the name Jaxon, they would use term like ; amazing, smart, attractive and even leader. If you'd ask me what I thought of the name; Arrogant, asshole, douche, playboy and all round dickhead. Because he seemed to only ever think with his dick.

It's been years since I'd seen his face, well more precisely his backside, pants down, with his lips, canines, on another wolfs neck and not mine. His hair all disheveled, another woman's arms around his chest, gently scratching his back. Even her canines were out on display, slowly embedding themselves into his neck; my neck.

I'd never thought of meeting my mate the way I did that late afternoon in the boathouse. Mate. I wouldn't use that term when referring to him anymore, he wasn't mine, nor will he ever be. My heart ached at the mere thought of him or every time him and his current- not real- mate. It was coming to the end of summer and with the last few hot days left I decided to join my brothers at the river and go for a swim. I hate summer. A winter baby through and through. So a swim was a great idea, to cool myself and my inner wolf down.

Swimming always made me safe. I was a strong swimmer and I always felt free. It felt like the water was always calling my name. It was the afternoon that my body didn't want to swim anymore, it wanted to give up and perish in the water and float away. My brothers had all jumped in from the dock, which was directly behind the boathouse. I was just about to follow them, taking off my dress and chucking my thongs on the dock and dumping my towel. I was tying up my hair into a bun when my nose started to sniff.