Devouring the Forbidden Fruit

POV - Dasha (17 years old) I felt my legs burning as I ran through the woods, rushing to keep up with my best friend Killian. We were only teenagers. What do teenagers do best? Cause issues, obviously. My lungs labored under the stress until finally I tumbled down into a furrow of bushes. I could hear Killian’s laughter as he fell into my lap. The vibration of his laughter tickled into my own skin. “Did ya see his face?” He more or less huffed out the words with a wolfish grin. If he wasn’t my best friend, I might have found it charming, but it was more endearing for me. “He was hella mad!” I chucked my elbow into the warmth of his side as I pushed him off to rise to my legs again. “Think he saw our faces, Dasha?” The silliness to his face tapered off, and there was the tiniest hint of fear leaking into his voice. Killian still sat on the cool earth with his hands plastered to his sides, fingers bracing into the dense grass. Hmm, the adrenaline must be wearing off. “You worried it would get back to your dad?” I asked gingerly as I shifted my weight between both of my feet. It was a reasonable concern after all. Killian bore the pleasure and burden of having a dad who was the reigning alpha of the pack. Roman was a fierce but caring alpha. Anyone who ever met him knew he was a gentle soul, but could easily shed that skin for the role of protector. I owe a lot to Killian’s dad personally. Flashback 16-year-old- I can still remember living on the streets as a no-name orphan that no one could be bothered to spare a glance at. I was only twelve at the time. My dad had passed away two years prior, and my mom didn’t die, but she might as well have. She fell into drugs, and if I hadn’t run away… who knows what hell would have awaited me to get her fix. I was traveling fast through small towns until I got caught trying to snatch some food from a*****e and was taken into the office, where I waited for ‘my parents to be called.’ I remember a kid rushing in and eyeballing me. “Why are you here? Are you in trouble?” The kid couldn’t have been much more than five or six. Without another word, the small-limbed kid wandered back out the door, and I struggled to follow suit. I pushed off the chair and stumbled through the doors until I slammed into another person in my panic to escape. “What are you doing here?” The voice was gruff, but there was a bite of aggression to the man’s tone. “I’ve got no notice of other packs getting permission to travel through our town.” His voice burred on the edge of annoyance as he glanced across the aisles, his nose pulling in the air for fellow signals before returning his gaze to my pale face. “You’re alone?” He paused as if in debate before he tugged her toward the exit. He pushed her against the brick wall, his golden eyes boring into her own murky brown. “Where are your parents?” I could feel my fear slipping away, replaced by rage. I shoved my knee into his hip, causing him to titter away from me. “I’m not afraid of you. Leave me alone, pervert!” I stressed that word hard with a bite of my tone. “Enough, girl!” He growled the words and pushed me back against the wall, his hands firm against my shoulders. “I’m not some runaway; I lost my dad and then was abandoned. Just leave me alone. I don’t belong to anyone’s pack. I’m a stray and a stray I’ll stay.” My eyes locked hard on him as I tried not to show fear against the sharpness of his face. I could feel his palms soften against my shoulders as he took a step back. “You don’t have to be alone.” It felt like he was extending an olive branch, but I didn’t trust anyone, much less a werewolf stranger. As if on cue, the small child toddled back over, latching onto the man’s right leg as if he were a familiar tree. “Uncle Roman, why is she being so mean to you?” The small boy asked in confusion as he spared a glare in my direction. Roman? Was that this guy’s name? Roman reached his hand down to tussle the boy’s black locks. “I think she’s been alone for a while and thinks we are all a bit scary, is all. Maybe you could ask your momma to bring her back for a meal.” POV - Dasha, 17 years old It seemed like Killian was still speaking, but I couldn’t hear his words. Blood was rushing through my ears so intensely that it was hard to grasp anything but the rush of it. The memory of Roman pushing me against that wall was so vivid. The gentle strength of his palms closing around my flesh, paired with the press of his breath against my face as those golden eyes loomed above me. I’d be a l.iar if I didn’t admit that Roman ignited something in me that I wasn’t even sure of. Killian’s face grew concerned as he pushed off the ground to touch my shoulder. “Did you get hurt?” I couldn’t help but laugh, but maybe I did it more to hide the blush that had turned my whole face bright red. “No, but you might for being out after curfew and getting in trouble,” I teased as I bopped his nose gently with my index finger. With that, I set off into a run again toward the pack residences. It was funny that all these years later, I had found a home.