🐲🐉A Howl In The Night🐲🐉
🌹(She’s mine) 🌹
🌼From Novel r0m@nç£🌼
🌺Chapter 13🌺
🌸A Life Without Steak🌸
“This is your room,” Xavier leads me towards a narrow door, and opens it for me. I look in wonder at the curved ceilings, the gorgeous be-d that is three times as big as me…
I narrow my eyes at him, suspicious. “You’re not slee-ping in this room too, are you?”
Yi happens to hear my statement as he walks by, and grins. “No,” he answers for the blu-shing blue-haired idiot beside me, “but it is right next door.” I turn on him, smiling at the redness now spre-ading throu-gh his features.
“There is one other room available,” Xavier plainly explains, “but it’s connected to Wes’s room.”
“Might not be the best idea to take that other room,” Yi laughs, “you might wake up to find your innocence stolen.”
“Yi!” Xavier elbows him, and Yi starts to laugh even ha-rder. Once I examine him, I realize that he really looks the youngest out of all of them. I wonder if that has anything to do with his un-derdeveloped Talent.
“Hmmm…” I trail off, wandering into the splendor that I can only call heaven. I pretend to be discontent, though actually reveling in happiness. It is all so beautiful… ten times better than my previous room. Guilt floods throu-gh at the thought that I owe something to that stalker werewolf.
“I know you like it,” a temp-tingly low voice murmurs into my ear. I jump to realize that Jake is by my side.
“Who says I do?” I haughtily reply, looking away from Jake’s entrancing form. He sm-irks, voice teasing.
“Xavier’s not here anymore. You don’t nee-d to act like a spoiled br@t,” he nods towards the empty doorway. I gaze at Jake’s all-knowing sneer with bitter contempt, then melt onto the silky comforter of my be-d. Closing my eyes, I give my mind a chance to let this all sink in… for my head might explode if any more changes occur.
“Why do you act this way towards Xavier?” he questions, sitting beside me. My eyes flutter open, and I let my gaze drink in Jake’s head of sparkling white hair, his bright emerald eyes.
“He just annoys me,” I shrug slightly, leaning against the headrest. Jake grins, his eyes alight.
“Well, you’re stuck with him now,” he laughs, “since we kidnapped you.”
I gr0@nwith irritation. “I thought it was called adoption.”
“You know that’s not true; though I am old enough to be your grandfather many times over,” he points out, his face of mischief, “you really are our prisoner.”
“What?”
“Think about it,” he smiles, “you are surrounded by five incredibly handsome werewolves that could overpower you in un-der a second, and they all want you to stay in this house. To t©p it off, you’re my new daughter.”
I frown, my uneasiness blooming un-der the soft white lights. “You idiot,” I laugh, turning on my side, away from the monster, “Xavier wouldn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to do.”
“But what about the rest of us?” Jake’s eyes suddenly turn eerie, his voice jesting. “We don’t exactly have the same policy.”
I don’t even shudder as he leans towards me on the plush be-d, glaring at me with his now ferocious green eyes. “Xavier will protect me,” I say confidently, trying once again to turn away, but I am caught by his strong arm. “Leave me alone,” I command, my heart finally starting to beat fas-ter with nervousness at our physical contact.
“You have complete faith in Xavier, even though you don’t love him?” The searing question rips throu-gh my defenses, introducing more questions that I am not truly prepared to answer. I shove them to the edge of my mind, forcing the matter at hand to surface.
“He has never let me down before,” I shrug, leading Jake to shake his head.
“You just won’t accept it,” he says, his tone matter-of-factly.
“Go away, Daddy.” I twist so I am lying face down on the comfy be-d, dwelling in my thoughts. The word Daddy, even though I say it in jest, feels strange on my ton-gue, almost retreating back inside my mouth. I have not said that word in many, many years.
There are footsteps, then complete and utter silence. I am alone.
Comfort enters me, twisting its way into my heart as I l@yon the plush comforter, soothing my soul. It is true that I am a prisoner here, but I can’t help but realize that I am now basking in luxury that far out-shadows my situation at the orphanage. A 3D TV stretches against the left wall, one of the biggest I’ve ever seen, right beside a stack of movies that reaches four feet tall. The be-d I’m in is king-size, big enough to swallow about five of me in its gigantic berth. Everything is absolutely luxurious, drenching my eyes with pure splendor. Where do they get all this money?
I crawl further into the be-d’s center, pu-lling back the comforter. I sl!pun-der it with ease, gaping at the hvge size of the mattress. It is pure heaven, almost like the water from this morning, easing my pain.
Looking to the side, I sp©t a remote that is nearly as big as my arm. With delight, I gr-ab the board of bu-ttons, examining the temperature controls, the wonder knobs that induce prime mas-sages.
This really isn’t necessary.
Maybe they are using all this to bribe me into submission. I shouldn’t be tou-ching this plea-surable remote, or delving throu-gh the flurry of sheets into the colossal mattress.
Closing my eyes, I try not to focus on the ripples of opulence surrounding me. I imagine myself as a fierce warrior battling a bunch of familiar werewolves for freedom. Even the thought brings a smile to my face.
But I have to be honest to myself; is that fantasy really possible? Could I battle those gifted werewolves and have even the smallest chance of winning? Could I take on even one?
I give up on all hope for resistance, and sink into the cushiony depths of heaven.
***
My eyes fly open as screams and yells erupt elsewhere. Sli-pping to my feet, I pad to the doorway, trying to find the source of all the noise. However, another thought comes to my attention before I step outside my new room.
The ground scratches my toes as I retreat in search of some clothing not rumpled by sleep. I have no suitcase, my old clothes too pitiful for the guys to kidnap along with me. Ruffling in the drawers, I find nothing except dust and old scre-ws. “Where are they?” I mutter to myself after pu-lling the final drawer open, “those all-knowing werewolves had to put some shi-ts somewhere.”
A gust of horrific wind blasts the window open, the glas-s pounding against the stone walls. Leaves swept by the gales soon follow, flying into my room by the dozen. Racing to the problem, I swing it shut, the sound resounding within the mansion.
I gaze into the horizon throu-gh the transparent surface, marveling at the turmoil before my eyes. Wind swirls around, framed by a barrage of dark gray clouds that hang in the baby blue skies. Leaves fall like confetti towards the dark, muddy ground, energy in their movements. If I squint, the faint outlines of heavy rainfall are visible in the far distance, heading our way with incredible speed.
Looks like I’m staying in tonight.
Sighing, I bend to pick up the new additions to an almost-flawless room. Many of them are scattered among the drawers, one dwindling on the conspicuous handle of a thin, white door. Once I think about it, that does look a lot like a closet.
That’s it! With feelings of triumph racing throu-gh my blood, I race to the door, yanking it open with a ferocious amount of raw energy. What comes to meet the eyes, though, is much more wonderful than a closet.
A spectacular bathroom lies before me, with granite countert©ps and t©p-notch accessories. A hvge shower is to my right, big enough for maybe two or three people instead of just one. A big hair dryer and straightener is on the counter, along with nail polish, toothpaste, and even a br@nd new hairbrush. I almost scream, consumed with delight at the amazing amenities now at my disposal. At the orphanage, I had to share a shower with all the other girls, and I was always f0rç£d to be last shift. The knob was always stuck on cold, probably because Ms. Penn was so cheap. If I think ha-rd , I can almost feel the icy river flood down my back as it had only a couple of days ago. It now seems so far away, as if it was a couple of weeks ago instead.
I walk over to another door, flinging it open to reveal the treasure I am seeking. A hoard of clothes lined from wall to wall jumps out at me, a true vision of incredulity lingering before my eyes. So many clothes…
With joy, I gr-ab a random pair of jeans and a t-shi-t, shaking off my earlier clothes as if I am shedding my skin. Racing into the hallway, I pound off in search of the mischievous wolves that are producing quite a racket.
The hallway ends, morphing into a giant room covered in bean bags. A giant, blank wall stretches over twenty feet horizontally, and is about the same height. From the high ceiling, a projector perches in its nest at the back of the room, shooting high definition images throu-gh the air to the blank space.
To the side, there is a marvelous food station, vending machines stocked with every sort of candy and drink imaginable. A popcorn station is right next to that, and a platter of delectable h0tdogs.
But the star of the show is the plate of ju-icy steak, surrounded by a ring of eternal glory.
My mouth waters at the sight. How is this amount of food even possible?
“Hey Mona,” a similarly mouthwatering voice speaks near my ear, causing me to jump.
“Xavier?”
“Um, yeah, that’s me,” he laughs, emerging into my line of vision. His blue hair shines like a rainbow in the dim lights, the eyes shining on their own. With a b©dy just as beautiful, he seems almost ethereal, too good to be true.
The rest of the deathly attrac-tive pack turns their heads at our conversation. Instantly Wes jumps to his feet, racing to my side. “We were waiting for you,” he smiles enchantingly. His contagious attitude spre-ads like a virus to my emotions, causing a grin to bubble to the surface. However, I quic-kly quell it after a few moments of existence, noticing the hurt look on Xavier’s face. I feel a twinge of pity for the man.
Wes gr-abs my arm with sudden f0rç£, wrenching me from Xavier’s side. “I will be esc-rting her to the steak,” he announces, shooting a jesting look towards Xavier. He nearly roars in response, zooming to my side fas-ter than a lightning bolt.
“No. I will,” Xavier growls, gr-abbing my other arm.
“She likes me better,” Wes sm-irks, holding me close. I can smell his minty breath, his sweet cologne that intoxicates me with every breath.
“Well, she’s my mate!” Xavier points out, pu-lling me strongly. My bones are about to break, suspended between them like a twig surrounded by tree trunks.
In a sudden bur-st of energy, I rip away from them both, edging towards the table of delicacies. “I will be esc-rting myself, thank you,” I state firmly, then turn away. An as-sortment of light chuckles and baritone laughs follow, the other werewolves probably finding amusement in my bitter words.
I reach the yummy steak, taking the whole plate into my arms. Plopping down on a stray beanbag, I start to dig in, chewing to my heart’s content. It is very similar to the awe-inspiring steak I had the day before, and absolutely scrumptious.
“This exquisite steak can only be found at our mansion,” Wes grins, materializing by my side, “the meat is produced by yours truly.” He bows, and I give him a round of applause.
“This really is delicious,” I say excitedly, to Xavier’s dismay.
“We all prepare it!” he growls, “the cows aren’t just yours!” With a hilarious expression, he punches Wes in the arm.
“What gives it its spectacular taste is that our cows are like no other,” Yi smiles, rising from his perch on a p@rticularly big bean bag. Walking over to me, he leads me to one of the hvge windows, beckoning for me to look out. Scattered on the emerald green gras-s are pure black animals that are truly…
“Monstrous,” I conclude my thought out loud, staring into the sea of absolutely giant bulls. Horns protrude from their heads like sharpened spears, their glossy fur unmarred. Finally, their eyes are the same color as the gras-s, green as could be.
“They certainly are, aren’t they?” Yi murmurs, watching my utter fascination with plea-sure. “I, actually, like to think of them as a fantastic crossbreed between a buffalo and a bull. Oh, and a twinge of werewolf.”
“What?!” I exclaim, “So it isn’t pure steak?”
“Don’t you think it tastes better than steak?” he questions carelessly, “It is a concoction Wes c@m£ up with around fifty years ago. We all had a liking for steak, Wes in p@rticular, so he made it his goal to produce the finest breed the world has ever known. He found a beautiful buffalo and a prime cow, and went on a trip to find many more animals. However, when he reached home, he discovered that the buffalo and the cow had a few calves, some of which were boys, and one a girl. They were very delicious, and so he allowed them to multi-ply. His goal was to get two perfect bull/buffalos. However, too many of them were handicapped or sp©tted. Finally, after a long period of agonizing, he offered them a very small bit of werewolf blood, which strengthened them and colored their eyes. And so, that is how our amazing bull-buffalos and awesome steak c@m£ into existence.”
“Werewolf… blood?” I ask, choking a little on my steak.
“Not much… ba-rely more than a drop,” he quic-kly reas-sures me, patting my back. His tanned skin distracts me, its color like light bronze.
“How can YOU eat that?”
“We don’t,” he shrugs, “when Wes added the werewolf blood, we all couldn’t eat it. That would be like… cannibalism.”
“Then why did Xavier eat it that one day in the lunchroom?” I walk over to him, peering into Xavier’s emerald eyes.
“That was deer meat,” he laughs genially. I just peer at them, shock registering on my features.
“You guys can’t eat steak anymore?” I ask. A life without steak… pure torture.
Wes waves his hand at me nonchalantly, “I ate so much then that I got sick of it. Don’t worry about me.”
I bite it once more, savoring each little bit of delicious steak. I walk back over to the bean bags, plopping into one. “What are you all watching?” I question curiously. The screen is frozen with the picture of a girl right next to a boy with long hair.
Jake smiles, “we heard you were a Twilight fan.”
I shoot a glare at the criminal as he lowers his gaze.
“We skipped to the p@rt where Bella meets the handsome werewolf. We figured that that was the most important p@rt anyways,” Jake continues. There is a beep as he presses a bu-tton, and the still picture comes to life. I examine them both, the werewolf as he looks at Bella with obvious love in his eyes, similar to someone I happen to know…
“Is Bella his mate?” I ask loudly, causing Yi to put a f!nger to hisl-ips. Wes is alre-ady consumed with the film, probably imagining himself as the werewolf. Honestly, I think Wes would be better suited for a role like that.
“No,” Xavier chuckles, “she’s not. But he loves her.”
I look at Xavier’s profile, so enveloped in compas-sion as he views the rays of unrequited love emanating from the desperate man. His eyes glisten, hair falling into them. He is so statuesque and perfect; reminding me of those R0m-n paintings I have studied in school. Like one of the Greek gods.
“Did you… love someb©dy before you bec@m£ mated to me?” I ask, looking at the miniscule droplets of sadness bubbling on the corner of his eyes. He turns, eyes fierce.
“I loved nob©dy. It was endless torture,” he answers, “girl after girl… but never a connection.”
“It’s stupid to love someone who isn’t your mate,” Jake interludes, “for you can only break that person’s heart.”
Silence reigns as another character enters the scene. A cold, darkly handsome man appears by Bella’s side, conversing with her in low tones.
“Is that Edward?”
“True characteristics of a Twilight fan,” Jake laughs, “and yes, he is.”
I stare at his cold face, his measuring eyes. No matter how handsome, he still sparks fear and anger in my stomach. Xavier smiles.
“Vampires aren’t real,” he comforts me, ru-bbing a hand on my back. It is soothing, the way his f!ngersmove in slow circles on my skin, somehow knowing precisely where I nee-d it.
“But why are werewolves real then?” I probe agitatedly, “why they are real and not the vampires?”
The movie pauses once more, silence creeping like fog onto the inhabitants. A figure appears in the doorway, as-sessing us coldly.
“We are created for a purpose, and doomed to eternity until our task is completed,” Ray says, his voice rippling throu-gh the air towards my ears. “It is in the legend.”
“Legend?” I question.
“It is more like a prophecy,” he amends quic-kly.
“What does it say?”
“Well,” Jake cuts in, his voice like a knife, “it talks about a pack, led by a Spier that has the abilities of both a werewolf and a Spier. With these combined supernatural powers, the Spier has a super talent that will enable his or her pack to defeat the wolf with the red eyes and destroy the red stone. After that, the Shifters will cease, and so will the werewolves. Basically, werewolves exist to battle the Shifters.”
“We have a copy of it in the libr@ry. I recommend you re-ad it for a better un-derstanding than what Jake just gave you,” Ray says coldly, then turns away and walks down the hallway.
“Wow,” Yi jokes, “looks like someone’s grumpy.”
“Well, my explanation was kind of horrible,” Jake says.
“Don’t worry, I’ll re-ad it,” I reas-sure him quic-kly. What Jake said makes almost no s-en-se. The wolf with the red eyes? The red stone? My curiosity is spiked now, and there is no turning back…
Xavier perks up his nose suddenly, alarm in his next words. “Guys, there’s another attack,” he shoots up, horror in his eyes. The other occu-p@n-ts sniff, my heart rate escalating in fright.
“I want to go!” I yell as they start to rush towards the exit, running after them. I want to have an adventure, not to be left alone in this giant mansion like a little kid.
“It’s too dangerous,” Xavier calls.
“If you don’t let me go,” I snarl, “then you will regret it.”
T B C