Waiting

My eyes moved in the direction of the girl clinging to a tree, laughing carelessly at the rain dripping onto her skin. The pack house was filled with people escaping the storm. She opened her palms, catching the raindrops in thee

She was like a fresh breeze howling in the night. "I swear it's a madhouse," my father breathed, slapping his cold hands onto my shoulders. The similar blue eyes he gave to me moved in the direction mine was glued to

"What a sight for sore eyes," he laughed. She was barefoot splashing into pools. Her dark hair clung to her skin. Twirling, she slipped into a pool of mud, laughing. Some kids took it upon themselves to join her. She stood up, pressing her lips together to keep herself from laughing as a man joined her.

Dropping her head in shame, she nodded.

"Son, sometimes you must allow the sun to shine on stormy days," he said, shaking his head at what just happened.

"You should go. Go see if she's here," my father said. He was hopeful. It's hard to believe my father was cut from a sleeve of a ruthless man. He wore scars no one ever saw.

He was well-respected in the pack. He was gentle with kids and showed respect to the women of his pack. He had an ear for advice and a heart that could melt right to the bone, but he could be ruthless. I saw it.

Teeth ripping through bones, tearing flesh apart. His number one priority was this pack. His eyes held onto mine, pointing at the door.

"GO," he demanded. "This house is packed if she's not here. You're probably going to be alone forever," He teased. Placing my hands into my jeans, I shook my head. Once again, I watched the rain coming down.

"Something is coming," my father said, shifting in his seat. Meeting his intense gaze, he swallowed down the glass of water that was placed in front of him.

"There is always something coming. If it's not the rogues at the borders, then it's the hunters coming into town. We are always facing something, and we handle it hands down,"

His head shook from side to side. "No, son, I am talking about you searching for the girl in the rain," rolling my eyes at his remark. The door opened as the beta stepped into the office.

"Alpha," he greeted. A private conversation took place between them, and that was my cue to leave.

My father wasn't kidding when he said the pack house was packed. The kids ran around giggling, and people stood around laughing and enjoying each other's company.

After being stopped and making small talk for the fifth time, I slipped out of a nearby door, catching my breath.

My eyes rolled back into my head as that smell intoxicated my nose. Following the path, the smell of wild daisies led me. I stopped in my tracks at the sight of the girl who was indeed dancing in the rain. Shaking her head, she hummed something underneath her breath. She was still unaware of my presence.

It took me a moment, but I finally realized she was crying. Bringing her palm to her cheek, I caught a glimpse of the redness that covered it.

"Are you alright down there?" Her chestnut eyes snapped towards me, making every fiber in my body react. She was not of age.

"I'm sorry, um," getting up, the full force of her smell hit me. "I got caught in the rain," she lied.

"I see," her eyes dropping to the ground, she shifted uncomfortably. She was fiddling with her dress, not knowing what to do.

Gone was the carefree spirit that enjoyed the rain.

"You can look at me," I breathed. I wanted her to look at me. Those big eyes of hers caught me off guard. She was a vision.

She lifted her head a little higher, meeting my eyes. "I'm Jetson," extending my hand to her, she looked at me worried.

"I'm Iris," placing her shaky hand in mine. I looked at our hands. A bolt of electricity shot through me at her touch.

She was unaware of it all. "What's your age, Iris?" My hand tightened slightly on hers when she wanted to pull away.

"I turn eighteen in a couple of months," she whispered.

"And what happened here?" Touching her cheek, she flinched.

"She wasn't paying attention," a man in the doorway said.

"Walked straight into a branch," he continued.

"Then see to it that it's cut off," my tone left no room for bullshit. The man took a step back, looking at Iris.

"Yes, Mr. Raine."

"Iris," her gaze shifting to him, was sending out an alarm.

"I'm fine, everything is fine," she breathed.

"It's clearing up. We are leaving," his dominance over her wasn't sitting well with me.

"Yes, of course," the sound of her heart racing made a low rumble, a sound I had never experienced before escaped me.

Everyone fell into silence.

"Jetson," my father grabbed hold of me, pushing me back. "You need to control this!" He shouted into my face. Blinking a few times, my gaze shifted towards Iris.

I turned to run, stripping my shirt off. I shifted in mid-air, running, I felt the urge stronger. To snap. I had heard the stories. Wolves tend to be protective of their mates, and this instant pull was going to drive me crazy. The image of her wide-eyed gaze was imprinted in my head.

I remembered the first shift being the most intense experience I ever had. Every bone snapped, and my skin was crawling, but I had to work through it.

There were some that never made it through their first transformation. The thought of her not making it through her first shift was unbearable. My father was right. I needed to control this anger.

But I needed her close, and I needed eyes on her. I had to wait for her. That was some sick joke I couldn't understand. I have been waiting for her for four years. I had to play the third wheel more than once when my friends and family members seemed to pity me for not having someone.

Now that I know who she is, I still have to wait for her.