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This is part two of the book.
He changed right before my eyes. He turned into something else. Something inhuman.
How was that possible?
Dexter, a good friend of mine—one who I thought was an open book—was actually a bloody werewolf. At least, that was what I thought he was.
Who would have thought it?
They hadn’t noticed me hiding behind the tree, watching them. I was glad. I couldn’t give them an explanation yet. Not when I wanted one too. If Dexter and Marianne were werewolves, did that mean Lazarus was one too? Raegan as well? They had to be—they all seemed to know each other.
Sure, I wasn’t super close with them—not what I was with Lazarus—but that didn’t mean we didn’t trust each other. We did trust each other. Lazarus asked me if I did and I told him yes.
Maybe he was afraid? Maybe he couldn’t tell me. He might be bound in some way. There had to be a rational explanation to what I witnessed. When we saw the unexplainable, we tried to rationalize it. My mind was running through possible solutions—I was hallucinating, I was dreaming or even, it was a trick of the light.
But I knew I wasn’t experiencing any of this. There was no reason as to why I would hallucinate. I pinched myself to check if I was asleep. And they were out in the open—the light couldn’t have affected what I saw.
Thus, what I saw was real.
And that meant everything I knew about the world was false. Incomplete.
I was desperate to find out answers. I was curious about how something that was supposedly mythological was actually real.
Dexter had no obligation to tell me—it was a humongous secret. And even though it hurt to know they didn’t trust me with this secret, I had to accept it. I had no right to be hurt—it was something personal to them.
The next question I had to ask was whether I should confront him or not. I could risk the friendship I had with the three of them—I could lose them if I told them I knew the truth. By telling him I knew, I could put myself in danger. Would they hurt me if they knew I saw them change? No, I could not imagine them hurting me.
I had gone through my fantasy-werewolf phase like everybody else. I watched Twilight and The Vampire Diaries, but I eventually outgrew it. Was Twilight, actually right? Did Stephenie Meyer actually know about this world?
Dazed, I sat up in my bed. I had the urge to hop onto my computer and Google about werewolves. But I was nervous about reading all of it.
My mom was out working—at least, I assumed she was working.
I walked downstairs and got a glass of water. My throat felt parched—like the Sahara Desert.
Since mom was out, I decided to sit in the living room and try to distract my mind. I switched on the TV and attempted to focus on the program. However, my mind had other ideas. Once again, thoughts of what had occurred not too long ago hit me.
I really wanted to know if Lazarus was a werewolf too. I just had to know.
A sharp and abrupt knock on the front door stopped my train of thought and caught my attention. Hesitantly, I rose from my seat and tip-toed to the door and peeked through the small peephole.
Three figures stood outside my door, their postures stiff as a board. I took in a long, deep breath and swung the door open. I was immediately greeted by the sight of Lazarus, Marianne and…Dexter. They were all wearing grim expressions.
I gulped and instinctively stumbled backward away from them. Even if I did trust Lazarus, it didn’t mean I felt one hundred percent safe with Dexter here. I liked him as a person, but I wasn’t certain he wouldn’t attack me.
Dexter plastered a poker face on; if I stared into the depths of his eyes, I could see the hurt glowing in them. My heart panged with guilt whilst my mind was skeptical.
“W—what are you guys doing here?” I stammered, rather pathetically. I wanted to curse myself for sounding so afraid.
“We need to talk to you,” Dexter answered, reluctantly. His voice was monotone.
My eyes darted between the three of them cautiously. They were all people who I thought I knew. I might not have been very close with them, but we were friends—they wouldn’t harm me. Right? They wouldn’t kill me for knowing the truth…they couldn’t. It was too suspicious.
Lazarus appeared visibly pained by my fear. He looked as if he wanted to hug me.
“Celeste, we’re not going to hurt you. We just want to talk to you,” Lazarus assured, calmly. He lifted his hands up in a surrender motion. “Please, let us in.”
“We don’t want to have this talk out here,” Marianne inputted, biting her bottom lip. “I promise nothing bad will happen.”
I studied them for a moment, contemplating my options. If I refused, what would they do? Leave? Barge into my house?
Sighing, I opened the door wider and stepped to the side. They entered my house and scanned the walls that were covered with photos of me and my mom. I knew listening to what they had to say was the right thing to do. They deserved to explain what I saw.
“We can talk in the living room. It’s the first room on the left,” I informed them. They walked into my lounge and sat on the large couch.
I lowered myself into the one-seater to the left, my body tense and alert. My eyes remained zeroed in on my carpeted floor. I didn’t want to stare at them—I didn’t want them to see the inner dilemma I was having.
“We know you saw Dexter earlier,” Marianne stated, her gaze on me. She didn’t say exactly what I saw, she left the exact answer hanging in the air. “We just want to talk to you about it.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat, nervously. “Okay.”
Lazarus blew out a breath, “You don’t have to feel nervous, Celeste. We could never hurt you.”
I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe him so badly. But her was here with Dexter—the man who phased into a gigantic wolf. He had to be one as well.
“Do you want to ask any questions, or do you want us to tell you the truth?” Lazarus asked, his eyes burning into my face.
My heart fluttered. Despite everything, he still affected me.
I had so many questions. However, when I tried to ask them, I couldn’t. My fear stopped me.
Lazarus noticed my state and sighed, sadly. “I’ll start with what we are.” I sat on the edge of my seat with bated breath. “We are what you humans call werewolves.”
I was right! So that meant they were just a myth, they were real.
I didn’t fail to miss that he said ‘we’, including himself. So, Lazarus wasn’t human. Surprisingly, I wasn’t repulsed or petrified of this news. Simply cautious.
As Lazarus started talking, I felt my body relax. If they were going to hurt me, they would have already done it. That was not their intention.
“Werewolves are half-human, half-wolf. We all have a wolf inside of us, but they become one with us when we shift for the first time.” He explained, slowly. “We can shift whenever we want to.”
I saw Dexter shift in broad daylight. I assumed he was in control.
“Yeah, we aren’t controlled by the moon,” Dexter interrupted, snorting loudly. “We can shift any day of the week, whenever we want to.”
Lazarus shot Dexter an exasperated look. “Because of us having a wolf, we have super abilities. Super strength, super speed, super hearing etcetera, etcetera,” He listed. “We also don’t age the same.”
My heart fell. What did that mean? How did he age? Was he not my age?
Lazarus sensed my unease and exhaled. His eyes were downcast; the atmosphere was darker, colder.
“How old are you guys?” I cut him off, my voice sharp. I was trying to not freak out or cry. This was absolutely insane.
They all looked uncomfortable. Dexter shifted in his seat and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m one hundred and eight years old. Marianne is seventy-two years old and Lazarus is two-hundred years old.”
I nearly fainted. My mouth was agape in shock. I could not believe what I had heard. When they said they aged differently, I thought they were maybe ten years older. But two-hundred years?!
My breathing became erratic. I started to feel dizzy. Things became hazy—I could not process the world around me easily.
Warm and electric hands placed themselves on my face, igniting me. Lazarus was cupping my face. He turned me in his direction and forced me to gaze into his beautiful eyes.
“Breathe,” He murmured. Concern swirled in those forest green eyes I adored. “Just breathe.”
I followed his instructions and found that things became a lot easier. My sight restored and oxygen returned into my lungs. When I came back to my rightful state, I realized what position we were in and blushed.
Reluctantly, Lazarus jerked his hands away and returned to his seat.
“W—what just happened?” I managed to choke out, afraid of what just happened to me. It felt like I lost all control in my body. I could only feel one thing. Terror.
“You had a panic attack,” Marianne told me, delicately. Her blue eyes shone with pity.
My eyes widened. “A panic attack?” I echoed.
She nodded her head.
I had never had a panic attack before. I knew what they were. I remember Myra Jenkins, a girl in the year below me, having one in the corridor a few years ago. Everybody stood around and watched her choke on her own breath. It was horrible to see. I felt so bad for her.
My eyes darted to Lazarus. He was still staring at me intensely. If you looked hard enough, you could see the gold in his eyes almost glowing. It was breathtaking.
“You freaked out about hearing how old we were,” Dexter told me, in a soft voice. He sounded worried.
I blinked, “Oh.”
Right, they were all really old.
“So, you’re werewolves,” I clarified, finding it hard to say the word aloud to them.
They all shared a look before replying. I had no idea why.
I licked my lips anxiously, oblivious to the dark look Lazarus was giving me. “Is there anything else I should know?”
Lazarus was the one to answer this question. He seemed…reluctant to tell me. I could sense he was worried about something. Perhaps telling me whatever it was. But, in all honesty, what could be worse than finding out they were werewolves?
“Every werewolf is gifted something.” He revealed, slowly. His green eyes drifted to the carpet.
I cocked my head to the side and pried, “What?”
He loosened a breath, “A mate. Short for a soul mate.”
I shifted closer to the edge of my seat, interested to find out more.
“Mates are the one thing every werewolf looks forward to. They are our life. Everything we do is for them. Finding your mate is the most precious thing. You want to be whatever they need.” He spoke about them with so much passion.
A prickle of jealousy coursed through me. Whoever was Lazarus’s mate was one lucky girl. There was no way he went two-hundred years without finding his mate.
The realization made me so sad. I looked to the ground, feeling guilty about feeling things for Lazarus when he was taken.
Was Raegan his mate?
That would make no sense. He acted as if he hated her. And what about that kiss? Surely, he wouldn’t cheat on his soul mate?
I snapped my eyes up to his. He was now looking up, directly at me.
I didn’t need to finish the sentence; he knew what I was asking. I could see he was grateful I had worked it out myself. Lazarus nodded his head and I felt relief wash over me.
I was his soul mate. We were paired together.
“B—but, how?” I questioned.
He shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know but I’m glad it’s you.”
I felt my cheeks redden at that. He had a way with words that could make my body melt into a puddle.
Suddenly, Dexter and Lazarus got to their feet and left the room, giving us some privacy. I sent them thankful looks.
It was now just me and Lazarus. My heart was thudding in my chest.
Lazarus stood up and moved closer to me. He knelt before me, in the same position as he did earlier. He grabbed onto my hands and drew circles into my hands. My body tingled at his touch. I was in awe.
“Do you feel these sparks?” He whispered.
“The mate bond causes this.”
I felt my breath quicken as the sparks got more intense. I now knew what the cause of this and I was over the moon.
“We are made for each other, mi amore.” He said, gently.
I took in a breath and stared into his eyes. I couldn’t imagine myself with anybody else but him. And now that I knew we were destined for each other, I felt peaceful.
Well...the truth is out in the open. Celeste finally knows! Are you glad she does? My next update will be Friday. Have a great week!