The Protector

XIII

Somehow, we've managed to form a routine out of my laziness. Up until today, Luke has been asking Caleb to wake me up in the mornings to minimise the difficulty and wastage of time. For two weeks I've been attending these stupid classes, and in the fortnight I've spent in them, I haven't paid a single ounce of attention. Witting occasionally asks me a question which I rarely answer correctly. He asks one each class to make it seem as though he's including me to the other pupils. Unless it is History, nothing I say is accurate but he still hasn't appeared disappointed in me once.

The only reason I know any History is because I've read over half of the books in the library about the past of all werewolves. There's some human details in them also, although I tend to skip over it. The only thing I have going for me is my ability to speed read.

Today however, was the first time I've been awake and getting stuff done before Luke came in to get me. I barely slept. I suffered for around three hours from traumatising nightmares. After the fifth one, I gave up on trying to sleep and occupied myself in other ways. My damn parasomnia is getting worse. I can't really remember what any of my nightmares are about if they aren't memories, I just know that I was crying and unable to breathe when I finally managed to get my eyes open.

I'm certain Caleb knew something was wrong since I was up at the crack of dawn, speeding through laps around the forest and house when he got up for a morning workout. I've found myself making a habit of going for runs or something similar when I can't sleep or am simply bored. So far this week, eighteen hours have been spent doing intense exercise - it's only Wednesday. If I'm lucky, I can get an hour a night.

Keeping my eyes open long enough to read more than a sentence is today's struggle. Every five minutes I startle awake from a deep power nap. I know I'm starting to lose it; seeing demons in the edges of my vision isn't good. Even though I'm not experiencing terrors in the few minutes I'm unconscious, my mind doesn't want to trust the fact. It will wake me up as soon as possible.

My eyes begin drifting shut for the unknownth time today, my body slumping against the window. That is until John raises voice to try engaging me in the topic. I turn my head in a way to make sure he knows I am aware of his words.

"Mates is the term werewolves use when referring to our fated significant other. Different species use different words, I know vampires use Lovers and demons use Playmates." Pretty much all of the girls start whispering about things their parents have told them in regard to the word and what it means. "Being a part of the supernatural does have its advantages despite having to live in hiding. The majority of us are lucky enough to have a soulmate, which is the origin of the phrase." Resting on the desk behind him, he allows the class a moment to finish their muttering.

Sending me a small wink, he pulls them back with a clap of his hands. His amusement at hearing their theories is always fascinating. "A wolf's mate doesn't necessarily have to be of the same species, there are many cases of non-matching pairs. However, this can bring about certain consequences."

"What sort of consequences? You've met your soulmate, how can that be a bad thing?" One of the lads tilts his head in thought, not following his hints. "The supernatural gene is particularly powerful as it isn't as simple as a human's. Like when a human is bitten, the DNA is pulled apart to be reformed. You mainly find humans paired with different beings if it is to be a multi-specie relationship that is going to lead to children as human genes are weaker than ours and can be overwritten." John folds his arms, watching us all for our reactions.

"Try thinking of it as a snake and a horse trying to have a child together. Their DNA is so different that it just wouldn't happen. However, on the rare chance a child is produced, it wouldn't live due to the mess of genetics."