The Luna’s Unwanted Mate

The Bite!

The night was frigid. It was the sort of coldness that seeps into his bones, as if his heart were a door left wide open to the frigid breeze, slamming only to open again.

The only thing to do was keep going, keep roaming about till he locates her. The sky was rolling blanket of cloud the colour damp ash, and the earth its dreary reflection.

The only thing letting him see his way was his phone’s flashlight and the full moon.

He heard the howl of a wolf followed by a weak sound of the fallen leaves and branches on the ground, behind the big trees. Dylan instantly turns about in fear as his stomach fell. His heart banged against his chest as though attempting to escape away from its position.

Dylan rapidly peered around, attempting to see what was in the trees. He knew he wasn’t alone; he just prayed it wasn’t the one thing he was especially scared of—a wolf.

His body became cold as a shudder raced down his spine at the sight of what was on the hills. On the peak of the slope were many shapes, wolfish. Two stand nearly statue-like as the rest tumble around, dragging one another.

He started to carefully go back when he discovered they haven’t spotted him. Turning around to run, he faced with the most deadly and enraged werewolf looking back at him. “Damnit,” he murmured as his heart hammered against his chest. He was so afraid that he thought his legs were ready to fail him.

He slowly wandered back before ultimately turning around and sprinting to whichever direction he could follow. He fled as quickly as he could just as he turned to see whether the werewolf was close behind. He could no longer see it.

Dylan slowed to gather his breath. But before he could think of anything, he was flung down and he quickly felt an appalling sharp, deep agony in his arm. He yelped in anguish grasping his arm as he firmly closed his eyes, waiting for his attacker to end him.

The agony felt like a pin moving up his bitten left arm. Every pulse delivered a flood of anguish, like if his arm was being ripped apart.

The night quickly grew quiet with just the sound of the cricket and him groaning in agony. He faked a whimper as he opened his eyes slowly. He gazed around with his blood-shot eyes but he couldn’t find the monster that bit him.

He managed to rise to his feet and carefully headed toward home as it tormented him to move—he kept the motions modest and steady. He had long dropped the book and forgotten about it.

After a longer, hard hike, he eventually came home and managed to climb the tree up to the balcony leading to his room. He knew his parents wouldn’t take it kindly if they found he slipped out into the woods despite the cautions and regulations they’ve established when they moved to the farm home.

With a muffled groan, Dylan carefully plumped down on the side of his bed for a minute.

What he saw was scandalous and he couldn’t tell whether it was a werewolf or a creature he has never come across before. It was massive and he could swear he saw it standing on two feet before got on it’s four legs and shot for him. It was a terrible moment—especially considering he was left with a large bite mark in his left arm.

Steadily, he stood up and walked into the bathroom to take care of his injuries. He set the first aid box on the basin before cautiously pulling off his shirt to have a look at the cut.

“F*ck,” he murmured upon viewing the big bite on his left arm. It was a phenomenon that his arm wasn’t torn off.

Dylan could feel the stress increasing as numerous ideas race about his mind—how was he going to conceal it from his parents. It was evident he wasn’t going to tell them he walked into the woods in the middle of the night hunting for the girl he couldn’t get out of his brain for weeks. He couldn’t tell them something twice his size attacked him and only bit him without eating him up.

How was he going to show up at work tomorrow with a massive bite in his arm?

The following morning, Dylan woke up with a pounding headache that seemed as if his skull was about to split in two. Massaging his temple, he got from the bed and slothfully ambled into the bathroom.

He scarcely slept last night—his entire body grew chilly, making him feel as if his body was dead or he was ready to die.

He stood before his bathroom mirror, remembering back to his life before they came here. It was terrible; particularly the point when he broke up with his ex-girlfriend, Ashley who cheated on him. It devastated him that he took a year off college, and now he may not go to college.

He enjoyed his job at the gift store he worked at and he wanted to create his own business as soon as he saves enough to open a candy shop and a giftshop.

His life before the farm home was riddled with confusion. He occasionally felt delighted that they became bankrupt and had to sell their home and go back to their farm house. He enjoyed living out here, he made friends so easy and they don’t condemn him like his buddies back in Virginia did. Though he was among the most popular students back in high school—it didn’t mean anything to him. He knew they simply loved him for his athletic physique and gorgeous looks.

Dylan gazed at the blood stain bandage and carefully began to rip it off. He winced before he even felt the pain. He was frightened of how it was going to end out, knowing he required adequate medical treatment.

“Huh,” he breathed out in astonishment. There was not even a single mark on his arm, leave alone the massive bite he last noticed before threating the wound.

An hour later, Dylan found himself at work. Parched, scarcely knowing what was going on around him. He was hardly focused on what he was doing. His physique felt different than normal.

He could plainly hear stuff he’s not allowed to. He could smell things he shouldn’t be able to smell. He could see things more clearly. Felt stronger than before.

“Dylan…”

He immediately jerked his head forward panickily as he exhaled out. He never noticed he was holding his breath until Jack yelled out his name.

“What’s up, man? You’ve been off recently. Everything alright?” He queried worriedly.

Dylan could see the concern in Jack’s eyes. He felt he had to tell someone about what had occurred to him last night. The only person he could tell that was Jack—he trusted him despite they’ve none one other for few of months.

“Hey, Jack, I know you’re a werewolf freak. Do you know anything about a werewolf biting a human?”

“Ahh, sure. It’s simple. When a person is bitten by a werewolf, they may not change into one. But when you are bitten by an Alpha, you’ll be one of them. I have so many ideas and histories concerning werewolves. I know 99.9 percent about them. 0.1 percent is when I get to meet up with one up close—which is in never…”

“I may have been bitten by a werewolf last night,” Dylan stated, his chest heaving up and down.

Jack glances at him for a minute. He laughed quietly, believing Dylan was simply pulling his leg. “Just because there are some ridiculous legends about werewolves dwelling out in the woods that does not mean you can joke with it…”

“I can hear and smell things I’m not supposed, Jack. This morning, damaged the barn door—it’s made of metal. I feel different, my body feels different.”

Jack glances around—the people were busy scanning through the gift store. He took Dylan by the wrist to the rear room.

“What precisely are you talking about, Dylan?”

Dylan moved back and forth in the room as beats of perspiration fall down his forehead. “I… I met this girl and she lost her book and I continued on seeking for her, for weeks and last night I went out look for her, and something attack me and bit me. Which I am convinced it was a werewolf that bit me. Because when I woke up this morning, the bite was gone,” Dylan remarked frantically as he stopped to examine Jack’s response.

Jack was caught aback by the Dylan’s explication and it was too much for him to digest. “Wha—” he stopped to take another second to ponder things through.

“You have to trust me, Jack. Something is amiss with me; I can feel it.” Dylan was shivering, he was so terrified of the changes he felt and why he was changing. Everything seemed unreal—he doesn’t want to accept that he was turning…

“Dude… You’re a werewolf?”

**

Emerson gazed back, without moving an inch from her posture. She was seething inside—she had the need assault him to his death. For so myriad unnamed causes she despised him. She disliked the look of him and wouldn’t want to be anywhere near to him.

He could see it in her eyes that she detested him. He didn’t care—he still desired her after being rejected so many times. He must have what he wants, regardless matter how many times she’d reject him.

He carefully breathed out and moved up to her. If he wanted to receive an acceptance from her to be his mate, he needed learn to be patient despite it was hard for him to achieve so. He was accustomed to other girls fawning at his feet, yearning to be their mate—it was difficult for him to pursue a female. But this was different—she is the Goddess of dawn, Emerson.

He didn’t care how long it would take for him to follow her till she says yes to him. He’d keep on pressing until she ultimately does.

“Don’t move another foot closer to me, Damon,” she cautioned. He gently inclined his head, glancing at her.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t like you and I would never like you, and you’re entering my territory.”

He glanced around the room, scrutinising everything. He didn’t like her choice of colour or the furnishings of the room. “Your room could definitely need a fresh set up. But it’s not going to be of any use because you’ll relocate to my pack when you accept my proposal.” He rests his light brown eyes on her.

The flashes him a death stare but he never cared, he shook it aside, wandering across the room till came to her. “Why don’t you want to say yes to me? Why don’t you want to be my mate, Emerson? I suppose you’d never find someone like me…”

She smacked his hands away as he tried to touch her. “To heck with you and your boldness. To believe I will ever accept you! I would never be with someone like—a murderer whole murdered his wife’s life for his own selfish reasons…”

Unwittingly, he grasped her neck and shoved her against the wall. She grasped his wrist with all her hands but he didn’t even move. He was strong—stronger than she likes to think he is. She struggled for oxygen but he didn’t even seem to care that he was suffocating her to her death.

“Careful, girl! You’re playing with fire and it would burn you if you don’t behave. The last thing you’d want to do is drag my ex-Luna into this! And sure, I murdered her because she deserves it. Who’s possible going to think that I murdered her when everyone knows she jumped over a cliff and plummeted to her death?”

Her eyes began rolling back into her head, his claws were deep in her neck. He pushed her to the floor and casually proceeded to the chair in her room.

He watched as she coughed and wheezed for breath. Her neck flowing down with blood. She’d cure herself—he knew that. He never noticed he had transformed to half his werewolf form until he caught a glance at himself in the mirror.

He massaged the bridge of his nose as he swore. “You see what you’re making me go through, Emerson? No female has ever made me feel this way! Can’t you see that I want you!” He clamoured, causing her to move backwards. One thing Emerson hated was displaying her vulnerability.

“No! I detest you! And I shall never mate with you!” She thundered despite how she was shivering out of dread. She absolutely broke down. This is the guy her father wanted to be with? A guy that’s making her weak and harming her?

This was how he wanted her to accept him?

“Fine, we’ll see about that Emerson, just wait until you see what I have saved for you.”

He was gone.