My paws pad softly on the fallen pine needles as I chase the dark streak that dodges around tree trunks just in front of me. I stretch my legs out far to take longer bounding strides in attempt to catch up to Damon. But his longer legs and stronger muscles give him an advantage.
I can't silence the competitive side to me and I push myself to my limit. My breath comes out in ragged drags. In and out harshly.
I tuck my ears flat to my head and push my snout down into the wind. The clothes I once had fell out of my mouth back when we collided.
If only I had a camera to capture the look of surprise on Damon's face when I finally catch up to him. His stride falters and I take advantage of his hesitation so that I can pass him.
I can hear his growl behind me and then suddenly I am falling. My paws scramble to grasp at empty air and my head strains to find the earth again.
Damon's body bumps into mine as we roll down a grassy hill. When we finally stop at the bottom our limbs are tangled and my head is pressed against his fuzzy chest.
We both pause.
The both of us are frozen in place, too afraid to move.
Lenora, Damon's voice sounds breathy through the mind-link. But that could have just been from running.
I like it when you say my name, I respond in the same tone.
Damon doesn't lose eye contact with me as he begins to stand up. His dark fur brushes against mine and I can't stop my heart from fluttering.
I know we are not mates but no one has ever looked at me the way Damon is. It's not just hunger but awe like maybe he sees more to me than what's on the surface.
My father is calling me, I have duties to attend to. Damon doesn't move or break our eye contact.
Of course, you are the alpha. It must be so hard having to work all the time. I sympathize and bite back a whine at the acknowledgement that we would eventually have to go our separate ways.
The strange feeling in my stomach confuses me. I don't feel sick but I feel flush and my heart is still racing.
It must be from the run still...
I'll see you around...Lenora. Damon finally tears his gaze from mine because I am not strong enough to do it myself. He trots up the steep hill and spares one last longing stare down at me before tearing off into the thick woods.
I stand on shaky legs for a few moments after Damon leaves. I don't understand my lightheaded numbness or why my heart continues to pound long after I had ran.
I've flirted with many boys before—some girls too. I've never flirted with someone as high as a soon to be alpha.
I slept with a beta from a foreign pack once, I couldn't understand a thing he said but he was very talkative.
An alpha may be a stretch—even for me. He has to run a pack one day, with his Luna, and I am no Luna. What am I thinking? He's not even interested in that way, no one ever is.
I was raised to sit at a table with elite wolves but I wasn't raised to lead a table of elite wolves. Even then, it's not exactly like I practice my manners in all interactions.
I am lost in thought as I make my way back to the pack house. I gathered my clothes back in my mouth, where I had dropped them when I ran into Damon, on my way back. I change into my human form and slip into my clothes.
I jump up to my open window, on the third floor by the way, and duck into my bedroom.
My walls are a fresh light blue color and I have a matching set of white furniture. I walk across my plush carpet to my vanity and I sit down in the spiny chair.
My blue eyes find themselves in my reflection and I stare at them for a few heartbeats. I don't bother judging the person I see in my reflection because everyone else already does. I turn my gaze down at the neatly placed jewelry and makeup all meticulously placed on the top of my table but I suddenly feel exhausted.
I stand up and walk over to my bed. I don't bother pulling the nearly tucked corners back. Instead, I just fall backwards into the soft embrace and stare at my ceiling. If I could just drift away for a little bit—
"Lenora! Wake up!" I open my eyes to the sound of my mother's voice yelling near my ear.
"Good morning to you too," I grumble and roll over. I don't want to face her or whatever rude comments she has for me today.
"Yeah, morning! I told you that I wanted to talk to you last night! And what do you do? You go to bed without even telling me! Lenora you—" my mother continues to rant but I close my eyes and attempt to slip into darkness again.
"Are you even listening?!" My mother screeches and tugs the covers off of my body.
This sets me off.
"Mother! Back off!" I snap and jump out of bed. I push past her and into my bathroom. I slam my door—I do that a lot.
"I wasn't done yet young lady," my mother pounds on the door and I groan, rubbing my face with my hands.
"That's too bad because I am done. So done!" I turn on the water to the shower to drown out my mother's voice. I drop my clothes on the tiled floor and step under the warm waterfall.
After I wash and dry my hair, I wrap a fluffy teal towel around my body and open my bathroom door. I step past my mother into my closet without looking at her. She stayed sitting on the end of my bed while I showered.
Great... I grit my teeth in aggravation. She won't let this go.
I pull on a fitted black tank top and white shorts. When I peek out of my closet, you guessed it, my mother was still on the edge of my bed.
I continue to ignore her as I sit down in front of my vanity and hope that she gets the hint and leaves.
"Lenora, I am trying to talk to you," my mother says in a calm and refined voice. It's the same voice she uses when she is trying to impress someone.
I roll my eyes and I'm sure she catches it in the mirror reflection but she chooses to ignore it.
"Trying and clearly failing," I mutter.
"You're not listening. I'm trying to help you. One day you are going to find your mate and you will regret not listening to me now." My mother tries to reason in the same frosty tone.
I stand up quickly and I watch her facade falter for just a moment, "no, I won't. If I even meet my mate I will reject him if he can't deal with my past. I refuse to be guilted into being someone I don't want to be. I don't care what my mate thinks of me, I don't care what anybody thinks of me. I do the things I want to do and I have no regrets. You should really try it sometime, if you ever get your head out of your ass."
The horrified look on my mother's face makes me feel guilty for a split second but I don't let it show. I learned from a young age how to hide my true emotions.
My mother stands up without another word and quietly walks across my room and out my door. It must have struck a nerve for her to be leaving without more of a fight. We share the same stubborn bone so usually these lectures go until one of us ends up crying.
I slump back into my spin chair and stare back at my reflection. My face looks pale and hallow without makeup. I never used to wear it until my mother started buying it for me, hinting that I was too unrefined without it
I sigh and start my long routine of applying layers to give off an "effortless and natural" look which you and I both know is total bullshit.
I then brush out my slightly damp hair and braid it so that it will have waves later in the day. I look myself over one more time in the mirror before deciding that I look suitable and head out into the hallway.
I, along with some other pack members, shuffle into the massive kitchen to make some breakfast. The thought of food makes my stomach clench and I settle on a cup of coffee instead.
I carry my mug away from the noise of cooking and chatter and pass the library on my way to the bay windows at the front of the pack house. I swear this house is so big you could get lost if you didn't know your way around.
Once I settle down in a plush leather arm chair by a large window I bring my steaming mug of coffee to my lips and breathe in the soothing smell.
"What've you got there?" A deep voice sounds from behind me and I flinch in surprise. The scalding liquid in my cup spills over the lip of the dark green mug and onto my shirt. The burn is muddled by the upmost rage that threatens to tip.
I gasp and quickly rise to my feet, ready to murder whoever startled me.
"Alright asshole—" I stop immediately once I realize who it is.
Damon.
His eyebrows raise in humor and surprise, "you were saying?"
"I didn't recognize your voice," I admit, still a little thrown off.
"Aw, now I'm hurt," Damon places a hand on his chest over his heart and playfully frowns. His eyes twinkle with mischief.
"Well, in my defense, you sounded much sexier in the forest but maybe that was just because you were a stranger then." I smirk as I regain my composure despite the burning feeling on my chest from my scorching coffee finally sinking in.
"Didn't your mother ever warn you not to talk to strangers?" Damon flashes a white grin.
"My mother tells me lots of things, it doesn't mean I listen to any of it," I raise my chin and roll my eyes to make it look like I don't care about this conversation. The more disinterested I appear the more he will try to win my attention. I love playing this game.
"Ah I see," Damon folds his arms across his chest. "You're a little rebel aren't you?"
"As if I could be defined by a single term," I gasp in fake shock and then we both burst into a fit of laughter.
"Come," Damon beckons me towards him. "Your coffee is still steaming. I don't know how you aren't screaming in pain."
"As if I would scream over such a thing," I look up at Damon with big eyes that hinted at more.
"Being the gentleman that my father raised me to be—"
"And alpha" I add and scrunch my nose slightly.
"Yes, and alpha," he corrects. "I feel like it's only necessary for me to offer you one of my shirts." Damon finishes, his eyes never leaving mine and his voice becoming more quiet.
I feel that same twisting in my gut from the forest. I'm still not sure what to make of it.
"Would that require me to accompany you to your room?" I press and take a deliberate step forward so that he can hear my own quiet voice.
"Only if you wanted to..." his voice is now no louder than a whisper.
"I want to," is all I have to say before Damon's massive hand engulfs mine and tugs my into his chest.
Game over. It was almost too easy.
He escorts me down the hall, past the library and the kitchen and many pack members with their mouths open so that you could see the eggs and toast they were munching.
He doesn't spare them a glance so I follow his lead and carry on.
Damon leads me up four flights of stairs to the top of the house where only his family lives. He opens a door, leads me inside, and pulls it shut behind me.
Here goes nothing I guess, I bite my lip slightly and watch Damon as he opens a dark wooden dresser to pull out a black t-shirt.
With his back turned to me, I take a chance to quickly scan the room.
Navy blue walls. Dark wood furniture. Large windows with white curtains.
"You can put this on though it won't look half as good as your tank top," he says as he holds out the shirt for me.
I stare at it for a moment, very confused. Usually when guys take me to their rooms they try to get me out of my clothes not dress me in more.
"Would you like a different color, princess?" The nickname catches me off guard but I reach out and take the shirt.
"No, black is fine." I mumble, still unsure of where this was going.
Maybe he wanted me to undress to put his shirt on?
"Okay, I'll be outside when you're done." Damon then turns and leaves me standing in his room, holding his shirt, staring at his closed door.