??A Howl In The Night??
?(She’s Mine)?
?Authoress Gift ?
?Chapter 4?
“why can’t you just leave me alone? ”
However , Xavier doesn’t seem to be as disappointed as I am. “You really want to know?” he warns, “even I don’t truly know why, and what I do know might upset you.”
I reel back in confusion. “Um, sure,” I nod slowly. That was supposed to be a rhetorical question, but if he has an answer, I want to hear it.
“Okay,” he says, “well, let me start off by saying that werewolves are very similar to wolves in that they have a very keen s-en-se of smell.”
“No duh,” I murmur un-der my breath, earning a brief scowl from him.
“Work with me, okay?” he asks. I just nod again, dubious.
“A werewolf, in fact, has an even better nose in many ways. They are able to as-sociate an individual person with their “signature” scent, an un-derlying smell every creature in the world has. They are all a little different, and never changes from the moment the creature is born,” he explains slowly, his voice melodious and smooth.
“What does that have to do with-” I say, only to feel a single hand cover my movingl-ips. He looks at me, stunning me with his seriousness, tugging me to stay silent.
“Generally,” he continues, “all humans have sweet smells. However, yours is extra attrac-tive. I have no idea why, but your aroma is very appealing to me.”
“Is that because I am your mate?” I ask curiously. He shakes his head.
“It is not just a mating thing,” he says, looking away. “This was even before I mated with you.” At my angle, I can see his beautifully blue hair, sparkling in the bright sun. As he ponders, his eyebrows narrow a little in de-ep concentration. Finally, he turns to me, his expression ha-rd . “I don’t know why, but I… can’t stay away from you,” he confesses, though with a straight face. His sparkling eyes look ashamedly at the floor, knowing that his words are not the ones I want to hear.
“Are you saying that I am stuck with you for the rest of my life?” I ask miserably.
“I really don’t know. That is why, after school, I am going to take you back to the mansion so we can find out.”
“WHAT?!” I exclaim, my interjection scaring even the birds away. He looks at me, his emerald eyes creasing in sorrow.
“I knew you wouldn’t be happy,” he comments, his face reflecting my own, “but we both have to work throu-gh this. Maybe, in some way, my friends can help.” He gr-abs me once more for a spine-crushing hvg, s£nding electricity throu-gh my b©dy. “Why can’t you be more accepting of me?” he complains, his voice teasing, “am I not lovable enough?” His face perks up immediately, his tone changing slightly.
Not knowing quite what I am doing, I raise my hand as if to sl@p him. I bring my hand rushing forward to meet his arrogant cheek, only to be st©pped by a blur of movement. “You have to do better than that,” Xavier grins, “if you want to sl@p a werewolf.” He pu-lls me closer, his h0t breath dawdling on my cheek. “Here is your punishment,” he places one muscled hand on my chin, tilting my head up slightly. My heart beats fas-ter as he brushes his plumpl-ips across my blu-shing cheeks.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” I yowl, jumping away from his sm-irking form. quic-kly I race away from him, my voice high and screeching. He just smiles at the obvious disconcertment hiding un-derneath my anger. Without a word, he meanders ahead of me, never looking back.
For he knows I will follow.
***
Matherson Public School creeps upon us until we can see its brick walls and rather drab surroundings. It looms above its students, standing two full stories tall, casting a shadow upon their forms. Weeds sprout in little bur-sts all over the premises, gras-s untamed and wild. All in all, it is the rehashed image of a normal high school that stands to be many students’ second home.
Xavier pauses so I can finally catch up to him, as-suming that my anger would have cooled down by this point. As I unwillingly head to his side, f0rç£d by my probable tardiness, I spy his excited face. “Why are you so happy, wolfboy?” I snap, my voice harsh. My ban-gs droop in front of my eye as I slump slightly, shifting into my regular position when I’m around people at school.
He peers at me strangely. “Why are you slumping? I thought you had perfect posture,” he inquires quietly. I frown, my eyes narrowing.
“None of your business,” I curtly say, looking away from him, “answer my question instead of asking your own.”
Xavier seems unaffected even though I’ve treated him so rudely, an action, or rather, lack of action I have come to predict from him. “Well, you sure did taste good,” he smiles brightly, wi-nking at my form. I boil, my eyes now in a squint. Once again, Xavier just looks on, oblivious to my anger and embarras-sment. I wonder how he so conveniently shuts out my reluctance, innocently disregarding it.
Suddenly, all conniption evaporates as I survey the hvge clock situated on the front of the monotonous school. “Cra-p!” I yell, watching the second hand tick towards the 12, prompting the minute hand to gravitate towards its next number. I gr-ab Xavier’s hand, dragging him along with surprising f0rç£. As I run, I spurt out, “Xavier, if not for you I would have gotten to school on time! I can’t be late… I can’t…”
The doors snap shut as I slide to meet it, barring my way.
I hang my head in utter defeat, my eyes staring towards the floor in shame. I am late. Ms. Penn is going to kill me. I should have just died yesterday.
I forget that I’m even holding Xavier’s hand until he grips it ti-ghtly; s£nding electric sparks throu-ghout my b©dy. I hate the fact that I am so aware of him, the smallest t©uçh alerting me and ma-king bu-tterflies flutter in my stomach. Why can’t I just avoid him? Why can’t I hate him with all of my energy instead of harboring this little feeling of admiration for his beauty and perseverance?
A portly lady with a stomach the size of a beach ball walks up to the glas-s, staring at our forms. Her practically nonexistent eyebrows–obviously they have been plucked too much–rise as she surveys Xavier’s glistening blue hair and sparkling green eyes. Wordlessly she swings the door open, not lifting her gaze from his magnificence.
“Who are you?” she queries, her mouth almost dropping to her knees. He cracks a million dollar smile, melting the woman into slush on the cold floor.
“My name is Xavier, and this is Mona, my ma-” he begins, only to wince as I squee-ze his hand in a deathly grip.
“Well, hello Xavier,” she grins, her dull, coal black eyes glistening as she absorbs his masculine features. “I haven’t seen you before. Are you new?” she inquires, completely ignoring me.
“Yes ma’am,” he confirms, “Mona c@m£ with me to show me around the school.” The fat lady finally turns her laser like gaze upon me, her eyes narrowing as she takes me in.
“You aren’t new, correct?” she asks coldly. I nod in response, not opening my mouth for this witch. “You will be counted tardy,” she informs me, my eyes wi-dening in alarm at her words. I yank my hand away from Xavier, feeling a sudden bur-st of anger.
“plea-se, miss,” Xavier says pleadingly, “she was just telling me about the school, and we lost track of the time… it is my fault.” His t©uçh is now comforting, filling me with warmness even I can ba-rely comprehend.
The woman now is flvstered, I can tell, torn between her disgust with me and her obvious liking of the beautiful man beside me. Finally, she replies, “okay, if that is all. plea-se don’t do this again. Consider this to be a warning.”
Xavier flashes another heart-melting grin, stunning us both, although I desperately try to fight it. “Thank you,” he bows, taking her hand and brushing hisl-ips across it.
I can’t explain the anger flooding throu-gh me at that moment. I hate him. I want him to disappear.
He elegantly stands straight as the woman embarras-sedly orders us to follow. Her face is flu-shed as she wo-bbles down the hallway, obviously affected by his alluring gentlemanliness.
Xavier chuckles a little, gr-abbing my hand once again as we follow her. I j£rk my hand away again, anger rushing throu-gh me. “Don’t t©uçh me!” I demand. Now there is full-out laughter. I shake with irascibility, my emotions running h0t throu-gh my veins.
“Mona, you are jealous, aren’t you?” he asks. I try desperately to contain the blus-hes, but it still spre-ads all over my cheeks. I don’t un-derstand why I am behaving this way. “Don’t worry,” he whispers, leaning in, his breath dancing across my ear, “I will only k!ssyou from now on.” His intim-acy distracts me, destroying my defenses. Briefly, I enjoy his sugar sweet words, his flattering promise.
Then I remember that I hate him.
“As if I’d let you,” I snap at him, carefully veiling my guilty plea-sure. He seems to s-en-se it, though, a smile stretching across his features.
“I didn’t know that you would come to love me so quic-kly!” he says happily, only to receive a jab in the stomach.
“No you idiot!” I protest angrily. However, my feeble comebacks are useless against his unrelenting grin and as-surance that I am in love with him.
The lady leads us both to a tiny, narrow door. “This is where you will get your information,” she directs Xavier, a hint of redness still dusting her plump cheeks. With a flir-ty smile, she says, “I am the school nurse, Mrs. Teal. plea-se come to me if you ever nee-d anything.” Walking away, she deliberately sways her h!ps, hoping that the enticing man will watch her.
I am ashamedly happy to say he doesn’t.
Xavier grins at me, and then swings the door open so that we both can enter. The most cluttered, disorganized place I have seen in my entire life lies before me, shocking me still. “Wow,” I whisper as I survey the mess: the collage of papers, staples, pens, and sticky notes that buries everything else.
Reclining right behind the disastrous disorder is a stick-thin, rather short lady with a beehive hairdo that clim-bs about seven inches into the air. It is a masterpiece, reminding me slightly of those wigs in the medieval times, and rather typical of an elderly woman like her.
Her voice is nothing short of hysterical. “Hello children,” she squeaks like a mouse, her words almost indistinguishable, “how may I help you?”
Xavier once again takes the lead, leaving me cowering in his shadow. “I am new here,” he informs her, flashing a smile at the minuscule, shriveled up plant that just happens to have a voice and a towering hairdo.
Her facial expressions unchanging, she reaches down to the floor to pick up some forlorn papers. “Ah, the new student. I have your schedule in this stack… somewhere…” she comments as she places the pile in her l@p. A truly monstrous pack of papers… I wonder how she can possibly sort throu-gh all that junk.
However, in a record time of three seconds flat, she wh!ps out a thin sheet of paper, distributing it to Xavier as we look at her in complete and total surprise. The lady glances at our faces, unblinkingly. “You nee-d some pas-ses, correct?” she inquires quic-kly, shuffling throu-gh the papers like lightning. After another blindingly fast search, she pu-lls out five or six pas-ses and hands it to him.
“Thank you, Mrs….” Xavier searches the lady’s clothing for a name tag, “Miss Lori.” There is a slight, almost undetectable crease in her forehead as she turns to her computer, annoyance fli-ckering in her features. We stand for a minute, and then Xavier pu-lls on my hand. “Come on, let’s go,” he urges, dragging me out of the doorway.
When we finally escape the messy room, I bur-st into laughter. Xavier tries to compose himself, but soon he is chuckling with me. “Her voice…” I nearly m0@n , drowning in a fit of giggles, “her hairdo…” When the cra-p did I start to laugh with him? What is wrong with me?
“Now Mona,” Xavier gently chastises, “let’s not make fun of others…”
“Look at you,” I tease, “striving to be the perfect gentleman.” I get swept into laughter, temporarily forgetting myself.
“Shut up.” In one swoop, he swings me into his arms, cradling me in his firm embr@ce. His arms surround me, squee-zing me ti-ghtly. “I’m your gentleman,” he laughs, “and I won’t let you go until you admit it.”
Alarm, awareness, and pure electricity shoots throu-gh my b©dy all at once as I realize how close he is to me. His grin is inches from mine, his breath dancing on my cheek.
If I tilt my head towards his even slightly, I could taste his warm, freshl-ips.
quic-kly I hold myself back before I give into temptation, resistance regaining. I remind myself once again that I hate him. I am not supposed to get along with this crazy, beautiful man. I stiffen, rebuilding the walls around my heart as quic-kly as they had fallen.
I also notice that we are in the middle of the school hallway.
He seems to suddenly notice my hesitation, and asks quietly, “what’s wrong, Mona?”
I look away from him as I emit these next few words, each one harsh and bitter. “Let me go,” I demand, my voice firm.
I am afraid to look into his eyes, lest they betray the truth to him.
He re-leases me, and I step away from him, my head still bowed. “What happened?” he persists, “you were just fine a few seconds ago-”
“Let’s just get you to clas-s,” I mutter, not wanting to listen to his dissection of our previous conversation, trying to seed out the offensive words he must have said. Swiftly I snatch the paper out of his reedy hands, observing it closely. Xavier stares at me with a forlorn expression as I avoid his gaze.
“You,” my eyes wi-den, “idiot!” I whirl on him, anger pulsating throu-gh my veins. I grip the paper ti-ghtly in my hands, until it nearly crumples in my f!ngerti-ps. “Why do you have the EXACT same schedule as me?” I ask furiously. My face crinkles in annoyance at his stalker-like attitude.
“Well, I might have asked…” he trails off, whistling as he looks away.
Why can’t he leave me alone?
I mean, he is my “mate”, but seriously… I nee-d some privacy, some time away from this madness. My blood starts to boil, but I quic-kly calm down.
“Okay then,” I reply with a robotic voice, emotionless, “come right this way.” I turn, starting the trek throu-gh the maze of hallways and rooms towards our first clas-s. As I pas-s him, I let the schedule drop from my grasp, allowing it to hit the ground with a thud.
Xavier st©ps to pick it up, a smile on his face.
There is the pounding of feet as he scrambles to meet me, but I just brush him off, ignoring his energetic words. “Mona,” he says ecstatically, “let’s go on a d@t£ tonight. You want to?”
Ha. As if.
“What about never?” I scoff.
A muscled hand snatches my wrist, whirling me around to face him. “Mona,” he firmly states, “you will fall in love with me. No matter how ha-rd you try to make me go away, I will not give up.” Each word he speaks is full of authority, of pure determination. His eyes grow dark as they narrow, the full implications of his words hitting me ha-rd . My life is changing… has changed… forever. I will never be alone again.
I stand back in shock as I survey him, taking in his beauty. He looks completely different now, more dangerously handsome than cutely naive. This was just like before, when he said the same thing on the way to school.
Right now, he looks like the wolf.
Suddenly, his intensity drops, and he once again beams a wonderful smile. “So how about a d@t£, Mona?” he asks once more. I look at him finally, taking in his masculine perfection, the social clim-bs I might make if I am by his side.
“No,” I shake my head, though the corner of my mouth ti-ps up, the hint of a grin occurring.
“plea-se, Mona?” he begs, hisl-ips in a tempting pout. I just look straight ahead, firm in my decision. He smiles even brighter, pestering me even more. Irritation and a strange, unfamiliar emotion shoot throu-gh me. Is it… excitement?
Life surely is going to be interesting with this blue-haired man around.