CHAPTER 6
July 2014
Samantha, age 23
Being back home this summer was incredibly soothing. At times, I woke up briefly feeling like the Samantha I used to be years ago, the relaxed, optimistic young female who had been spectacularly undamaged . I spent my nights resting and sleeping like God intended, and my days reconnecting with my family - dedicating time to activities we used to enjoy before , as well as discovering new shared interests. I also gathered the courage to reconnect with old friends and they welcomed me back with their arms open. We only talked about the present and the future, and I was grateful for it, I thought, as I lazily lounged in my parents' back yard with Lainey, enjoying the sounds and smells of dad grilling, while mom was in the kitchen baking a pie, and Lucas was by the sandbox entertaining my niece, or trying to.
“Lainey, I think she's ready for her nap now,” he whined. My sister and I looked at each other and burst out laughing.
“Ugh, the downside of breastfeeding is you’re on call 24/7,” she sighed while weighing both of her boobs in the palms of her hands, trying to figure out which one Jane fed from last. “I'll be back in 20,” she promised.
Her and Lucas were back at the pack full time and both worked at the hospital, he as a pediatrician and she as an ER doctor. My parents look after Jane when they were on night shifts or when daycare was closed. They are living their best life as grandparents. I, on the other hand, was robbed of watching my niece grow up, of bonding with her during this precious age, of seeing her every day, I thought bitterly, before shoving the thought aside. I didn’t want to ruin my day with my own poison.
The only reason I was relaxed enough to be back in this pack was the fact that Brandon and his family were staying with his in-laws for the month. Lucas was notified of their absence as his child's pediatrician, so he told me when to buy my tickets as soon as he knew they'd be gone. We've had the best month together as a family, it almost felt like nothing had changed, even though we all knew everything had. No one had mentioned them , and I wasn't even the least bit curious. Enough time had passed for me to slowly start relegating Brandon back to the space in my mind he’d used to occupy before I discovered who he was supposed to be to me. I wouldn’t lie and say that I never thought of him, but I was trying to train myself not to. It was a pointless exercise in self-flagellation when I did, and from what I could tell, I wasn’t into that type of thing.
Instead, we talked about school, my friends, and my boyfriend. After filling out the career aptitude test, the Alpha informed me that there were several career paths that I could take, but there was only one that he could be a big help with – Environmental Science at UC Davis. Apparently, he knew some wolves working in Admissions and other departments there, so they all pulled together and helped with the application – and before I knew it, I was at the dorms, sharing a room with a human named Miley, being just a regular college kid.
College turned out to be the best decision I could have made. Not only was I absolutely in love with my studies (they suited both my personality and my wolf side very well), but also, being surrounded by humans and their view on things was cathartic. Miley was always dating some guy who was, according to her, “ the one ”, only for the guy to turn out to be a total douche some weeks later. However, Miley never gave up on her quest for love. She just got back on that horse, again and again, and for me, that was really admirable – when not downright crazy. My one heartbreak had hurt so bad I stopped functioning for a year afterwards, how was she doing this? There was always another chance , that is what Miley's behavior screamed, and if I had to choose one thing to learn in college, I'd choose that one.
College was also the first time I’d allowed myself to even consider looking more closely at males and men who were not my mate. Sure, I had had pack mates and human classmates in high school, but in my mind they were like extras in a TV show, just walking around in the background, saying “rhubarb rhubarb”. Now, I allowed myself to look at broad shoulders, veins on forearms, juicy lower lips, tooth gaps, hazel eyes and baby blues, the shadows that long eyelashes threw on handsome faces... And I allowed myself to notice their attention as well. The hunger in their gaze, the dilated pupils, the furtive glances, the mirroring of my gestures, the proximity. My wolf was having a field day. Most of them looked like prey to her, but some of them were sexy prey.
My boyfriend, Andrew, had his work cut out for him when he first tried dating me. He was a senior in the History Department, attending college on a basketball scholarship. A sweet, kind, family oriented Minnesota boy who was as athletic and outdoorsy as I was. We were introduced in a cafe on campus (I was there with his teammate's girlfriend, my roommate Miley) and he’d immediately asked me out. I'd said “no, thanks” and he respected that. We spent some time talking to each other (while Miley was eating his teammate's face off), and I explained that I'd recently had my heart broken and wasn't too keen on having a repeat of the whole relationship experience. So I lied a little, sue me. Andrew made me an offer of friendship, which I gladly accepted. After that, he didn't let a single day go by without seeing me, complimenting me, doing something with me or for me. His steadfast devotion and attention were what convinced me to go out with him for real, and his height and build helped me get over the mental image of men as “fragile” as opposed to the males I was used to. We spent our free time training at the gym together, hiking, cooking dinner at his apartment, going to bars with friends, and everyone could tell Andrew was crazy and serious about me.
After six months of dating, I felt ready. It was a Saturday evening, we'd come back from the gym, showered, and had dinner at Andrew's place. On the couch, Andrew was softly kissing and sucking my neck, one hand in my hair and the other one on my waist, when I decided to straddle him and take control of the kissing. Both hands in his hair, I started grinding on his length, feeling every bit of it through my thin lace panties. My shirt dress was hiked up my waist, and you could see the wet spot I was leaving on his gray sweats.
“Sam,” he croaked, “if you don't want this to go any further, now would be a good time to stop.”
“I don't want to stop,” I managed to say between kisses, putting my hand down his sweats and palming his shaft. Andrew's hands were cupping my butt, pressing me more onto his hard-on, as I was moaning into his mouth before breaking the kiss and peeling my dress off. No bra. Andrew's eyes were glued to my breasts, his tongue darting out to wet his lips before latching onto my right nipple and sucking gently. I arched my back, pressing more of my breast into his mouth, pulling on his hair, panting. I pulled my panties to the side, pulled his sweats down and started coating his cock with my wetness.
“Condom,” I breathed. Miley’s various health and pregnancy scares had taught me well. Andrew stood up with my clit still pressed to his dick, and walked us to his bedroom, where he used his shirt to dry himself off before putting the condom on, while I quickly took off my panties. I pushed him to sit down on the bed, his back to the headboard, and kept grinding on his condom covered dick, lubricating it generously with my juices, before slowly lowering myself on it, hissing from the slight sting of pain that came along with it.
“Fuck, baby, I can't... you are so tight, fuck, Sam are you...?” Andrew kept moaning into my neck, but I just whispered “shhhh” and started licking his earlobe and the shell of his ear, causing him to grab my waist even more tightly.
“Babe stop, I'm gonna cum,” he panted and I stilled upon hearing this, then leaned back with my palms on his knees and slowly made my way up and down his shaft, giving him a full view of the two of us coming together. Andrew started circling my clit with his thumb, causing tiny sparks of pleasure to erupt inside of me, making my pussy clench more and more until I found myself succumbing to the waves of my orgasm, him following me soon after. We stayed in bed for a long time after cleaning up, cuddling, talking, making out. We were both ecstatic with the new phase of our relationship, eager to explore each other's bodies and likes, which we did thoroughly that very night and almost every night in the next 5 months.
Now Andrew was graduating and moving to the East coast for his MA studies, and to play for the Charlotte 49ers, and he was dropping hints about us trying long distance or me transferring, but I already knew I wouldn't be doing any of that. As much as I loved Andrew, and I did, even if it wasn’t the forever kind of love, I was well aware that I loved him more for how he made me feel, and less for who he was. I was still hung up on the fact that he was human, that we could never shift and run together, that I could never let my claws out during sex, that in the gym I still had to pretend to bench less than he did, lest he suspect my supernatural strength. If I had to put it bluntly, I mourned the fact that I would never be fully dominated by him sexually (or in any other way, which was something I secretly craved) because I was the apex predator in the food chain.
I would forever cherish Andrew in my heart as the man who made me believe in second chances. He was the first man to ever make love to me, and the one who unknowingly fixed a large part of my broken heart with his loyalty and devotion. It was time to repay the favor and set him free so he could find the woman who would love him the way he deserved. I'd be back at Uni next week and I would talk to him then. Another first - my first breakup. I felt oddly proud of myself for even having one, as sad as the process was.
But where would I go from here, romantically? I could never date unmated wolves while knowing that they had mates waiting for them somewhere out there. I had no desire to be a placeholder until the real thing came along, and I could also never live with myself if I were the reason someone threw their fated mate aside. There was always the option of widowed wolves who'd lost their mates, but three's a crowd. The dead mate would always be there with us, and I would always be comparing myself to her, trying to live up to the memory of his perfect fated female. No thanks, if I felt like comparing myself to someone, I could just think of Hailey. I scoffed and rolled my eyes at my self-deprecating joke.
My mother's sudden arrival in the backyard jolted me from my thoughts.
“They're back early! Brandon's back,” she breathed, and cold dread pooled in my stomach.
“What?!”