Temporary
1507 Words
LOGAN'S POV
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"She said what?" Aster asks with a hint of him feeling like I'm probably delusional or something. "She said, and I quote, text me the time and what to say or wear and I’m yours." I pause, and then add, "Temporarily." Aster's head drops back as he starts to howl with laughter, his eyes squinted shut and it looks like his lips might tear from how wide he's smiling. I stare at him as he sits across from me in the lounge, wearing a white tee and black jeans. My eyes narrow on him until he waves his hand in front him frantically while trying to catch a breath, his face red.
"Are you done?" I grit out, my joyous mood now turned into something a little more sour. "I'm sorry," He wheezes through his chuckling, shaking his head, his eyes glistening as he asks, "And you thought..." he laughs again, "...You thought that meant she wants you?" His laugh has my teeth grinding together in frustration. "I did not say that. I...", "Then what did you mean? Come on, Logan. She's human." Aster snorts while still wearing that diabolical smile of his that could make any woman blush.
Unfortunately for him, I'm not one.
"Like I was trying to say, I said it's a start." I grit out, my hope being squashed underneath his snickering. "I get it. I do. You want love, you want your precious little mate, but come on..." He drawls out, shaking his head with a knowing smile on his face-- a look I want to wipe off with a floor rag. "I know you're my best friend, Aster-- but you're a f*****g dick." I stand, grabbing my glass of whiskey and I walk over to the hearth, enjoying the warm air wrapping around me.
"I was kidding," Aster appears beside me, resting a hand on my shoulder. "She's...different, but she has a good heart." Something we can sense early on. "She's a little broken," I murmur, voice deep as I stare into the flames, picturing her beautiful chocolate hair, her fair skin that seems to glow when the sun catches it. "She wore red today to see you," Aster beams to lift up the mood he had put down. "She doesn't know what it means." I shake my head, a sorrow feeling weighing down on my chest.
I wish she knew what it meant.
"Maybe she doesn't, but the Gods are on your side," he squeezes my shoulder tightly, and then goes to sit back down. "I just don't want you all weepy when she doesn't want you back," I slowly turn, looking at him, "I will not get weepy," It's not a total lie. I might wolf out and disappear, but I will not cry if it is her choice. I will walk away like a man, and go hunt like an animal. "We'll see," That taunting tone comes back to his voice. I raise a brow at him, "Don't push it," I warn, "Aye-aye Alpha," he winks at me.
"Get the f**k out of my house, Aster." I roll my eyes, turning my back to him, "Fine with me, I need have things to do anyway," I whirl on him, eyes narrowing, "Aren't you too old to be that boyish?" I growl, hating how he disrespects women by calling them things. Astern downs the rest of his drink, glass thumping against the coffee table as he stands, rolling his shoulders, "I just said that because I didn't think you'd want to hear, fine with me, I have women to bend over until they scream." He laughs as my eyes roll once more, strutting towards my front door.
“Goodnight, Loser!” Aster’s beaming voice cuts through the empty, quiet house. The hearth is the only sound remaining with fire cracking, wood splintering as it breaks from the damage of the flames.
Tomorrow is going to be different, it’s going to be something new, where I can pretend that she’s mine, in front of people at least— but I have to walk a fine line between control and losing myself in her.
I don’t want to scare her off, and Aster already told me her little fear of the wolves— wolves that are actually people, wolves that won’t harm a single hair on her precious head, wolves that are sworn to her through me, ones that would rather die than let harm come to her— because as stupid as I could be, I told Aster about her, about my mate, in front of a crowd and the word spread like wildfire through the estate.
Our pack isn’t the largest, but I can bet my life on it that we are the tightest. No one goes to bed hungry, when someone has a problem, we all help to sort it out.
We are about a hundred and fifty all together in this pack, over a hundred homes are built in this estate, we are a community that stretches beyond the confinement of the property, we stretch into the woods where we have marked territories, built homes and know the paths like the back of our hands.
Even the property behind Celina’s sweet little home— and that’s exactly where I’m headed tonight— just to make sure she’s alright.
I keep on telling that lie to myself, but it’s the boundary I dare push.
I need to see her.
I need to be close to her.
She’s my mate— my little fragile, human mate that could die from a cold— something we do not get, something we do not know.
There are a few things that could harm us as werewolves, but a f*****g flu is not on that list— and it’s dead of winter, and I doubt that coat she wore today was enough to keep her from getting a cold, from catching a disease.
Gods, I hate this place.
If it weren’t for the developments that started years ago, we still would have been in that Gods forsaken forest of ours, living a pure life, but we were chosen to prove ourselves to the Gods, to come up on top with this life that has infiltrated our real home, destroyed it, marked it as a camp.
I was forced to make the decision of coming here, and to be frank, it’s not all bad. I did research, started a company and it’s flourishing. It’s doing so well that my pack lives their best life, and so do I.
Almost everyone has their own jobs, but those who aren’t fortunate to find a good job, well they are taken care of by me, by my company.
Some work for me, living as a human, and those who could not grasp the new way, the new world, like the elders, they are apart of an organization, which my company donates to.
It’s all a massive industry that provides for my people, and now…now Celina is apart of that. She’s apart of my people— She is my person, even of she doesn’t know it yet.
I will protect her, love her from afar at first, but some time— she will some time realize that this thing between us isn’t just whatever it is, a fake relationship if you must call it something, she’ll realize it’s real.
She has to feel something. Anything. A simmer of joy at the sight of me, a sliver of trust when she stares into my eyes with her olive ones.
There has to be something, and I will find out whatever it is and explore it, have her fall for me like I have fallen for her when I first saw her, when I first smelled her and held her.
I’ve waited years, and now I have to wait more, but this time that I have created with her, I will cling to it as a gift of borrowed time. I will learn everything I can about her and keep her with me for as long as I can— and if she’ll be so kind to accept me for me, to love me for who and what I am— perhaps I’ll die a happy man when the time comes.
All I can do is pray.
All I can feel is the bond luring me to her and hope that the more time we spend together, that she will eventually feel it too, in whatever strange way a human can feel it.
Will she run for the hills when I have to explain what I am, what we are?
I shake my head, burying the thought of such nonsense.
When I know she loves me, whole heartedly and with every energy blob of her soul, then I will tell her, because there’s one thing that trumps fear— and that is love.
She may fear me, but I know that she will love me more than that fear.
- Writer
