REBEL REBEL - Baklava
“Hi. My name is Arabella Ciardullo, but most of my friends call me Rebel. I’m Italian. I’m 5′6. I’m twenty-five years old, and I’m a rouge.”
I stare back at my reflection and sigh. I booked a flight to the United States and I have no idea how to introduce myself.
I’ve been looking for my mate for eight or nine years. I shifted early for some reason, and I was crushed when I didn’t immediately spot my mate. Through the years I’ve been traveling all around Italy, and then Europe, and then Asia, and then Africa. I was too scared to fly to Australia because of the spiders, but America seemed to be a good second choice.
Since I first shifted, I've come to the decision that I don’t want a mate. I want to keep traveling. I want to see the whole world, experience all the cultures. To do that, I need to keep being a rouge. If I were to be mated, I would feel the need to bring myself into the pack and stay. A sitting duck. Rotting.
So my reasons have changed, not my goal. I want to find my mate so that I can reject him, so he can find his second-chance mate. And then I can travel the world and be free.
And what if I run into other packs, you ask?
Well, I still have a connection to my family’s pack. I’m no longer a part of the pack, but the Alpha and Luna, my parents, along with the Beta family have pardoned me. I can return and leave as I please, and if I run into any trouble because of my rogue status, I can give the problem pack my father’s name and number.
I sigh, checking my appearance once more. My natural loose curls aren’t too bad today, so I keep my hair au naturel and just braid the front section away from my face. My plump, pouty lips are kind of giving me less of a hot look and more of a cute look, but I can work with it. My breasts apparently don’t know how to stay in a bra, so I’ve gone braless and simply put on a crop-top. Even though my breasts are heavy enough for me to want a breast reduction, they don’t sag at all. Thank you, werewolf genes. My hips are wide and my ass is quite amazing if I do say so myself, clad in black high-waisted booty shorts with three gold buttons. All of that and I do enough Russian twists to keep my waist thin and my figure hourglass-shaped.
I turn away from the mirror and walk towards the hotel bed. “Keep working on it,” my friend calls from under the covers. I shake my head, rolling my eyes at him. His name is Danai Thumying, but I call him Danny. I found him in Thailand, and he provided me protection in my travels. So did Xian Zheng, who I call Xan, my friend I found in China and Antonis Kanelos, who I call Tony, my friend I found in Greece. I cook expertly, and I can manage money better than them. So I’m their chef, and they’re my bodyguards.
Danny sits up in bed, making the blankets fall past to his toned abs to his prominent V-line. He’s truly a piece of art. His dark skin, shallow features, high cheekbones, and thick lips constantly drive me mad. He’s got muscle all over, and his piercing blue eyes draw me in so often that blue has become my favorite color.
I hum in appreciation and he throws a pillow at me. “After last night, one would think you’re sated,” he grumbles, making me laugh.
“Nope, never!” I jump up on the bed, climbing into his lap and looping my arms around his neck. This isn’t an intimate act where I’m from, but the sex definitely is. I figured since it might take a while for all of us to find our mates, we might as well satisfy each other for the time being.
He rests his forehead against mine and kisses me. I smile, kissing him gently. “Come on, flight leaves in three hours. Our English is perfect, and our wolves are ready to roll. Get up, get dressed, because I made baklava.”
I roll off of him and he bolts up immediately, scrambling to get off the bed in such a hurry that the blankets tangle him up and he lands face first on the floor.
I walk out of the room laughing, almost immediately bumping into a half-naked Tony. Now he has the body of a Greek god. A strong Grecian nose, thick eyebrows, yummy lips, blue-green eyes, the works. An Adonis for sure. Not to mention the countless tattoos covering his chest and arms. Yeah, I’ve tapped that a couple of times.
“I made baklava! When you’re ready, come to the kitchen and I’ll serve it to you,” I tell him, giggling as his eyes widen.
“You’re the best!” he exclaims, planting a big kiss on my lips, making me smile. “I know,” I hum as I walk away. I walk further down the hall from my hotel room, stopping before Xan’s door and knocking gently.
Xan is my favorite. Not only is he the hottest, but he’s also the sweetest. He’s saving himself for his mate. He’s also the first one I found.
I slip inside when I hear no reply, finding Xan sleeping in his bed. I watch him for a moment, studying his sharp jawline and beautiful features. His eyebrow piercing is still in, but he still manages to look so fucking adorable.
I climb into his bed slowly, setting myself down beside him and shaking him a little bit. He grumbles and I coo outwardly, giggling. “Xan, baby. Wake up, the flight leaves in three hours,” I say quietly, making him groan. He opens one beautiful black eye and looks up at me, his frown disappearing as he sees me. He hugs me to him, tugging me down to lay next to him.
I run my hands through his hair and kiss his forehead. “Come on, get up. I made baklava.”
He perks up instantly. With that, I climb out of his bed and away from his room, letting him get ready.
[03/12/19] Hi, guys! This is my first story on Inkitt and I'm super excited to show you all my story. I'm going to try to keep steady updates on Tuesdays, once a week. I may post some double updates, but if I write a chapter I'll probably just keep it private until posting day.
I really hope you like it.