My Lycan Boyfriend's Dark Secret

I won't run, promise

*Oceania Burns*

“How did you?” I look up into his piercing eyes, “How did you know where I was?” He closes his eyes and takes a deep audible breath, still bent over me as I lie in his arms.

“Well,” he starts, “I was walking through the woods when I heard...”

“The truth please,” I demand, my voice still soft and croaking, “I think you owe me the truth.”

“What if it scares you?”

“You will never know if you don’t give me a chance,” I tell him, reaching up to touch his cheek. I took a deep startled breath when I realized how cold his skin was against mine, as perfect and cool as marble, carved into a perfect and timeless work of art. He doesn’t pull away this time, only closes his eyes, almost leaning into my hand.

“Alright,” he breathes.

“I promise, I won’t run,” I tell him.

“Perhaps you should,” he says as he places his hand over mine, holding me to him.

“I don’t want to,” I whisper. Please don’t make me. My heart is racing at a hundred miles an hour, everything around me become blurred and out of focus... everything other than him.

“I’m not like you Oceania,” he opens his eyes, showing me the torment that haunts them, “I’m not... good.”

“But you are,” I struggle against his grip to sit upright in front of him, “You are good. You have saved me more than once... three times in two days to be exact.” He laughs, a soft and weary laugh but a laugh none the less. God he’s beautiful when he smiles. If I thought him to be handsome before... he was absolutely breathtaking now. I look down at his hand which is still holding mine, we fit, I don’t look sickly sallow next to him. His skin was also a pale white, like mine. Only he had an ethereal look whereas I just seemed malnourished. For the first time since I have been on this island, I feel... home.

“It’s only because you are such high maintenance. How ever did your parents manage to keep you alive for so long,” he smiles, one that reaches his beautiful mysteriously dark eyes. My inner monologue is silent... for once... start struck I suppose.

“what do you think I am?” he asks, all serious.

“A Lycan,” I answer him with a frown spread across my face.

“Wrong,” he sighs, “well, half wrong.”

“It doesn’t matter to me. I don’t care if you were a donkey,” I tell him as I place my palms against his cool cheeks.

“You think me to be an ass,” he laughs.

“Just a little,” I joke. It is nice that we can be so relaxed with each other... especially given the situation we found ourselves in.

“I need you to know,” he releases me and stands, “I need you to know so you can decide for yourself if you want to run or not.”

“Ok.”

“You see, my mother was born Lycan, my father was turned Lycan by her bite. The problem is my father’s arch enemy, Miranda, a powerful witch. She holds a grudge against my father for choosing my mother as his mate and not her. On the eve of my eighteenth birthday she paid me a visit.” He stops pacing to look at me, gauging my reaction, but I remain quiet, listening. “She placed a curse on me.”

“A curse?” I ask in alarm, standing to my feet in order to reach him but he takes a step back.

“I have the vampiric curse. Craving the blood of those around me. Cursed with a hunger that cannot be quenched. Cursed to kill my mate by marking her... you see... I am cursed with immortality, only to spend it alone.” My heart starts beating faster and I feel light headed, the world spins around me and I take a seat on a nearby stump.

“Do you...”

“Drink blood?” He asks.

“Have a mate?” Please, please, don’t say another girl’s name.

“I do,” he says seriously, looking me in my eyes. OUCH!

“Ok,” I nod in acceptance, which is a lie, fake! “Why aren’t you with her?” I ask as my heart starts breaking.

“I want to be... so badly... but I can’t risk it.”

“Risk what?”

“Killing her,” he snaps. He must be feeling so alone. I can see the sadness in his expression. He longed for his mate... whoever that lucky girl was. “Let me take you back to your room, before they start missing you.”

“Nobody here will miss me,” I say softly. A comment meant more for myself than it was aimed at him.

“That’s just not true,” he says picking me up from the stump, “I will miss you.”

“Thank you,” I smile up at him. He walked me right to the house mother’s office, telling her about my fall. She decides right then and there that I should you upstairs and lie down.

“Mr Black, thank you for finding our girl.” She thanks him, shaking his outstretched hand. “I will take it from here.”

“Are you sure ma’am? I can carry her upstairs... it’s no hassle at all,” he smiles charmingly and I see her passive aggressive features melt instantly in response. I wonder if anyone ever says no to him. I find my fingers fumbling in his school jersey as he walks me up the long flight of stairs and down the hallway.

“Which one is yours?” he asks as we reach the second floor.

“Number eleven,” I tell him, “You know my legs still work perfectly well,” I roll my eyes.

“Oh I know,” he smiles mischievously.

 “Then put me down,” I ask him gently and sweetly. I didn’t want Marge to see me like this, carried through the door by the hottest most mysterious boy in school.

“We are almost there,” he pleads with me to remain still.

“That’s the point Sherlock,” I tell him, rolling my eyes. He puts me down in front of our bedroom door. Opening it, it swings open slowly. Revealing all my most valuable belongings... nut no Marge... Thank heavens.