Pack: The Wolf Within

Chapter Three: Revelations

Scout

I could smell him. He wasn't any where near me; all the way in his room, with the door closed, but I could still smell him, like he was right next to me. And it was going to be a problem.

I've learned not to touch people. Even the slightest glancing touch and my senses kick into overdrive and it's a sensory overload, scents, tastes, even that slightest of touches tell me more than one would imagine.

Not with everyone, but in some cases, like Rebel, it's extreme. Ever since he bumped into me, it's like he's taken up residence in my head, every thought has turned to him. I close my eyes and I see him, I even think, if I try hard enough....or maybe try isn't the right word, but realize what it is, I can hear him breathing, his heart beating...it's all a bit surreal. And even crazier, but it's like I can hear him thinking, his thoughts rebounding around in my head like they're my own. I look around my room, like I'm seeing it for the first time, or rather like I'm seeing it through his eyes when he came in earlier. And it's like I have these after images flashing in my eyes, kinda like when you look at something really bright and then close your eyes and you can still see it on the back of your eyelids. But I can see his room, the ceiling fan twirling, the light choppy and flashing in my minds eye, as if I'm lying on the bed next to him. That thought seeds a stirring through me that I try to quell. I will not give in to that.

I heard a distant rumble and looked out my window. The horizon was a subtle gray but I could smell the storm coming, smell the rain on the wind. I heard a whimper from the room across the hall and was overcome with a sense of trepidation when thunder rumbles again. I stood up and walked hesitantly to my door, peering across the hall at Rebel's door. I could see the choppy light of his ceiling fan flashing from the small space under the door. Several quiet strides and I'm at his door, resting my forehead on the doorframe.

I will not give in to this.

I don't have to press my ear to the door to hear him. He's filling my head. I hear his quickening heartbeat as another chorus of thunder rumbles. I press a hand to the door, my other on the handle. Part of me thinks, if I were to open his door, he'd be on the other side of it, his forehead pressed against the wall mirroring me.

I will not give in to this.

I jump back as he opens his door. The scents in his room, even the most minute that I could barely discern moments ago, wash over me. I'm inundated and cringe, taken aback, yet I inhale deeply taking in not only his scent, musky, male, primal; but also I knew the pheromones, that were steadily driving me crazy, triggering a feral response that no matter how much I fought seemed to be mounting against my will.

I cannot give in to this.

"I don't like storms." Rebel's eyes were wide, his pupils dilated, flecks of gold shimmered within the green irises.

I was surprised that he was aware of the coming storm. Looking out his window, I saw the sky was still blue and cloudless on this side of the house. But he knew, I could see that in his eyes and I could smell his fear. It was a little overwhelming and I felt a hint of it, stirring inside of me, like an echo.

Then I noted a scent I was all too familiar with, a scent that captured my complete attention. I brushed past Rebel, the contact pummeling my senses. My will, my determination was battered. I struggled against an almost overwhelming desire to take him, to mark him as mine. I stood at the window, a death grip on the windowsill. The scent was stronger here. I knew if I opened the window, it would be stronger still. I peered outside and could see tracks leading away from the house and into the trees at the edge of the property. I suppressed a growl as I pushed past Rebel again and headed down the stairs and to the yard. I circled around to the back of the house below Rebel's window and raised my head, trying to catch the scent on the wind. The growl I suppress earlier came back stronger as I followed the tracks through the grass. I could taste them on the air; bitter, acidic, electric. I quickened my pace and once I reached the cover of the trees, beyond the gate, I transformed and loped faster, bounding through the tall grass with an ease my human form could never master. I chased the scent, snuffing the air, the grass, and the trees until the scent broke apart and diverged into three separate yet similar odors. This bothered me and I couldn't help but mark the surrounding trees. A pack had ventured into my territory; and then to my den. I paced back and forth across their trail, pausing long enough to scrape my back paws on the ground and rub my neck against another tree. I huffed a small bark in the direction of where the trail broke apart and then raced back to Rebel.

#

POV: Rebel

Everything here smells. Not bad. But everything like has a smell, both good and bad. Sure, everyone has smelled dirty socks or roses or cupcakes baking in the over, but I've never smelled painted walls before or carpet or the chairs at the dining room table, but I swear I can smell them all and everything else too. The odors and scents are so much stronger, almost palpable, tactile. And it's bad enough that every thing smells, but everyone smells too. And Scout is the most obvious scent. Not that I'm complaining, because, truth be told, his scent is dizzying, intoxicating, it's smells so good. Like the perfect cologne, a perfect mix of sweet and sensual, something you want to inhale, to savor, to taste. And when he's excited, it's an invisible cloud of,... I don't want to say it, but it's the only thing that comes to mind....an invisible cloud of s*x. Like I just want to pounce on him and drag him to the ground and do naughty things to him until we're both just too exhausted to do anything else but breathe. And his scent is everywhere. Sometimes, I have to breathe through my mouth, but then it's almost like I can taste him. And believe me, that does not help the situation. At all.

I stood at the window staring down and across to the back of the property when I saw Scout coming back through the back gate. He was pulling on his shirt and I could make out the outline of his abs and what looked like a red scar that crossed his chest at an angle, from his right shoulder down to the left side of his abs. I watched him walking, graceful and with purpose. Then he glanced up at me. I stepped back out of his line of sight, but I could tell he saw me, the look on his face registering my presence. I heard the back door open and close and strangely, I could detect his scent, stronger than I think I'd ever noticed, and as he climbed the staircase, every other scent, every other sensation diminished and all there was, was Scout. He stood in the doorway to my room and I couldn't help but step back. It was like the other day when I saw him and he seemed to be this inexplicably over powering all encompassing presence that I couldn't deny. He took the few steps that separated us and I stepped back further away from him till I was pressed to the window. Heat emanated from him as he closed the distance between us. He grabbed me and pulled me against him. He had twined fingers through my hair and pulled my head back, tilting it to reveal my neck. At first he just sniffed, running his nose under my jaw and along my neck, down to my collarbone. Then he worked his lips, tongue and teeth up and down my neck. I stood completely still, holding my breath, my hands pressed against his chest, first to push him away but then gripping his shirt and pulling him closer, the sensation overwhelming, as if he were devouring my essence.

When he bit my shoulder, I felt like I was waking from a dream. I pushed him and he flew back and crashed against the far wall. I looked down at my hands, shocked that I was able to push him with such force. He looked at me, eyes feral and hungry. He crouched on the floor, as if ready to pounce on me.

"What the f**k?" I reached up and pulled bloody fingers away from my shoulder. "You f*****g bit me!" The pain burned like a hot fire and each pulse of my heart stoked the flame.

"I had to." Scout growled.

"What do you mean you had to? You..." I stumbled back. "You're f*****g crazy. Stay the f**k away from me."

"I can't." I looked at him and I don't know what I saw in his eyes. There was a definite hunger there, but also something more.

"You're mine." It was a guttural whisper, like the distant rumbling thunder I felt in my chest.

I felt myself almost nod, yielding.

MATE

The thought rebounded through my head. Even as I pushed it away, I could hear it in the back of my mind, like a persistent chant I threw my hands up. "Okay. This is bullshit. I don't know what the hell is going on but you're going to stay as far the f**k away from me as you possibly can."

"I can't." His pupils were dilated and his irises, luminous.

"Why the hell not?"

MATE

"You're my mate." It was a whispered guttural cry, not from inside my head but from Scout. "Don't you hear it?" He whimpered.

I shook my head. "Hear what?" I ran my hands through my hair and retreated to the window. I tried to force everything out of my head, shut down my senses. I pressed my forehead against the cold glass. "This is.... this is crazy."

"You don't even know, do you?" There was a wonder in his voice.

I turned at the sound of Scout's voice and was surprised to find him right behind me.

"D...don't even know what?"

Scout reached up and gripped my shoulder where he had bit me. I jerked back but it occurred to me that there had been no pain, no sensation other than his touch. He pulled his hand away and showed me his palm and I reached up and touched my shoulder where he had bit me but felt nothing other than soft skin. No blood. No torn flesh. No pain.

"What the... How?" I gaped at him, my heart pounding. I couldn't breathe.

"You're like me. Only...you haven't changed yet."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. You're a lunatic." I touched my shoulder again, tried to look down at it, but saw nothing. "I'm like you? I haven't changed yet? What's that even supposed to mean?"

Before I knew it I was pinned on my back by a giant black wolf, its huge paws pressing on my chest. Its eyes were intent on mine and in them I recognized those luminous irises. His tongue lolled out and he gave me a long lick up my cheek. He huffed a little bark at me and then proceeded to sit on its haunches, looking down at me, expectantly.

"Get off of me." I pushed at it.

The wolf c****d his head and growled, baring its teeth. Then he lay down on top of me, propping its giant head on paws settled at the base of my neck.

"I said, get off of me."

He gave another huff like he was laughing at me.

"This is f****d up!" I rolled on my side, knocking him off of me, then scrambled to my feet. His growl was a subtle rumble. My heart was beating hard as I watched him lower himself to his stomach and crawl step in my direction. He propped his head on my foot and huffed an exasperated sigh then raised his snout up to my hand, his nose cold. He licked my fingers then rose back up and left my room. I watched him go, following tentatively. I heard whimpering and groaning and a sharp cry. I looked into Scout's bedroom.

He was laying on his bed, naked, curled in a fetal position. He looked up at me.

"You're like me."