Fighting Free

Ch. 7: The Schoolhouse

Samantha slept for s**t that night. Her dreams were filled with images of Metztli's lips drinking from her like he was trying to drown in their kiss. His hands found every hidden secret and his tongue sealed it on her skin like a tattoo. He would tease her body until she was right on the precipice and just before she fell, crashing to earth, her eyes would flutter open. Each time she woke up in the middle of the night, she felt a string inside of her wind itself more tightly. Over and over again through the night, leaving her unfulfilled and mourning Metztli's touch. By morning, she was in a horrible mood. That string inside her, coiled so solidly with frustration that she was sure it would snap at any moment. 

As she dressed herself that morning, her thoughts went back to the words he had said that had inspired those unfilled dreams.

"If you're not lying and you prove me wrong, I guess you'll have to deal with me in your bed every night." She remembered the smell of his skin, the warmth of his breath as he spoke. He was so close to her, so agonizingly close.

"And I would make sure your nights were filled  with other things besides sleep, Sam." A groan ripped from her throat. She imagined him thick and heavy between her legs. The mental image tied her stomach into knots.

She needed Metztli like she needed air to breath. He had come and offered her a sliver of hope when the world seemed so bleak. She was lost, staring at the wall after her mother left her in her room when she heard the door knock. That knock and rattled her heart, nearly stopped it. It was how she knew it was him, that it was Metztli at her doorstep. She opened the door and saw him standing there, smelling like stardust, moonshine and mesquite wood; all of the wild things that reminded her of a time long forgotten. Then he kept saying her name, each time his smooth voice spoke it felt like a caress down her spine.

Sam had no idea how she was able to keep herself together while talking to him. Every second he was in front of her, she fought the urge to drag her lips over every inch of him. He had looked regal dressed like a warrior at the reception hall but seeing him in jeans and a T-shirt, hair blowing freely in the wind, he wasn’t so intimidating. He was calm and relaxed, his movements and expressions almost carefree. It set loose a tornado of butterflies in her stomach.

She still had those butterflies when she left for work after getting ready. Her mother and sister were nowhere in sight in the morning, but that was not strange. They weren’t early risers and Sam was. She had become accustomed to quiet mornings to herself, but this morning she barely registered the stillness and left for work with a head filled with dreamy hazed visions of Metztli.

The pack schoolhouse was about a block and a half from the Asher apartments. Sam was still in a bad mood as she walked past the tall houses sitting close together. She ignored their happy faces on each tightly packed building and walked past every person without even acknowledging their existence. She just marched down sidewalks, barely stopping for traffic, and halted only when she was at the front stairs of the restored Victorian building. A hundred years ago, it probably housed a small family. Its parlor room was likely once filled with well-dressed ladies and well-mannered gentlemen. Its rooms were kept tidy by a young maid or two and the children were seen, but never heard.

Now, its facade was still that of a bright little home, but inside, it claimed a new life. One where children laughed and giggled. Their artwork stapled to bulletin boards. Teachers tried to keep the mess under control, but were eventually overcome with stacks of workbooks, stray art supplies and lost and found items. Sam believed this reincarnation of the house to be its best form yet.

She could feel her awful mood begin to slowly melt with each step she took and by the time she reached the front door, she knew why. Metztli was inside. She could smell him, his wild scent curling around her as she opened the door. Her body, working on its own accord, pulled her inside the building. Sam stood in the foyer, looking up the stairs, towards the back of the school, to the left, where Thomas sat working quietly at his desk. Everything looked normal, like any other day.

Thomas looked up as she carefully closed the front door. He gave her an easy smile as a few strands of his floppy hair fell over his forehead. Thomas was easy on the eyes and an extremely intelligent wolf. He was considered a valuable asset to the pack. Sam, once not too long ago, had seen his value, not in what he could do for the pack, but in how well he could keep lonely nights at bay. She only had spent the night with him a handful of times and never had any illusions as to what they were. It was an unspoken agreement that Sam and he would first be co-workers, then friends, and finally, in those sad and occasional lonesome nights, lovers, nothing more.

But she began to panic at the thought of Metztli talking to Thomas. She wondered what he would think, what would he say, would he even care? 

“Good morning, Sam,” Thomas said cheerfully, bringing her out of her thoughts.

“Hi,” she squeaked in return, her heart in her throat and still in full panic.

“You have a visitor this morning. Metztli from the Moon pack. He’s talking to Laura in the classroom.” Thomas stood and put away a file in the filing cabinet next to his desk. While their school was small because it only served pack children, it still had to follow the state requirements of a private school. Thomas took care of all the red tape, leaving Sam to teach with her teaching assistant, Laura.

“He’s not from the Moon pack,” Sam corrected. “His sister is.”

“Either way, it’s a pretty influential visitor to have, Sam,” Thomas smirked. “What have you gotten yourself into?”

“Nothing,” she said with a sigh. It was taking everything in her to not run to the back of the building and throw herself onto Metztli.

“Well, OK,” he shrugged and went to sit back down at his desk. “There’s mail for you in your mailbox. I think the kids got some responses from their pen pals from the Lambert pack.” He absentmindedly pointed to the far corner of the room. 

Sam eyed the doorway leading to her classroom. She could hear Metztli’s honeyed timbre reverberating down the hall, the quiet giggle from Laura’s lips and her wind chime voice answering him. She loved Laura. She was the best assistant she had ever had, but at that moment, Sam wanted to rip her apart. She had to recompose herself and remember that Laura doesn’t know the situation or that Metztli is her Mate. No one knew. So, she couldn’t lose her cool over a conversation. I’m not psycho, she kept telling herself, even though I feel like I am.

“Are you OK,” Thomas asked. He was looking at her again, his eyes filled with concern, but a warm smile still on his face.

“Yeah, why do you ask,” she tried laughing, but it ended up sounding like she was being strangled.

“Because you haven’t moved and you keep sighing.”

“Am I sighing?” She sighed, again. In one defeated movement, she walked over to Thomas’ desk and leaned against it, shoulders slumped and a hand to her temple. Thomas leaned back in his office chair and crossed his arms, ready to listen to Sam’s woe-is-me tale.

“Of course. Anytime. And if there is anything else I can do to help you, you let me know,” Laura sweetly spoke down the hallway. Her voice carrying into the room and grabbing all of Sam’s attention because it only meant one thing, Metztli was walking their way.

“Oh, Goddess,” Sam whispered as she heard Laura and Metztli’s footsteps approaching the front room.

“Sam, are you sure you are OK,” Thomas’ smirk was gone. She now only saw concern in his features as he reached over to place his hand on one of Sam’s hands that were resting against his desktop.

“Sam,” Metztli said with a bright smile on his face, greeting her. Sam felt herself melt into a puddle at the sight of him, but caught herself. Her pride wouldn’t allow her to swoon, yet. It bothered her to think that her Mate would even consider her a liar, but he was right. He wasn’t a wolf and if he had to go through all this foolishness just to find out what she already knew, then so be it. But she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing what he was capable of doing to her.

Sam could see Metztli’s eye travel down to Thomas’ hand. One of his eyebrows shot up, but he never dropped his smile. Feeling awkward and uncomfortable, Sam stood up from Thomas’ desk and straightened out her skirt.

“Good morning, Metztli. I hope you are well?” She fought with her emotions, but she was able to keep her voice flat.

“Yes, I am. I was just about to leave, but I think I will stay and have a chat with,” he looked at Thomas like he was trying to remember his name. “Thomas,” he said like a light bulb had finally gone off after a few moments.

“Sure,” Thomas smiled. Uhg, damn you, Thomas, Sam thought. The idea of the two men talking to one other panicked the crap out of her. She began to fidget nervously with the hem of her skirt.

“Will you be staying and joining in on the conversation, Sam,” Metztli asked, a playful gleam in his eye as he walked closer to Thomas’ desk. Did she want to be in the same room as her Mate questioned her sometime lover about her? No. Nonononono. A whole lotta nope, she thought. There was no way she wanted to hear what they were going to say. 

“No. I won’t be staying,” she calmly said, a deep blush rising on her cheeks. She saw Metztli’s face still, no longer playful, but instead thoughtful. He cleared his throat and looked away. “I have some materials to prep before class starts today, so if you all will excuse me.” 

“Of course,” Metztli said softly as Thomas nodded. Sam walked out of the small room and went straight for her classroom. Laura had stayed in the foyer, looking in at the interaction in the front room, and as soon as she saw Sam run out, she followed her. Laura closed the classroom door behind her quietly and turned to look at Sam.

“Sam. What in the world is going on?” Laura spoke in hushed tones and placed a hand on her hip.

“What did he tell you?” Sam plopped in her chair at her desk, exhausted by the turmoil that Metztli caused whenever he was nearby.

“That your mother has made a claim that you two are Mates. Is it true? Has your mother gone crazy, Sam? Is she trying to get you killed?” Laura was now the one that sounded panicked.

“She did make the claim to the Moon pack.”

“Oh, Goddess,” Laura whispered.

“But it’s because he is, Laura.”

“What,” confusion replaced concern.

“He’s my Mate. I know it seems crazy because he acts like… like… he doesn’t feel anything. He keeps telling me that I am wrong, but, Laura, I swear. He’s my Mate.” Tears threatened to spill from Sam’s eyes. Her frustration was clearly painted on her face and Laura’s expression softened.

“I’m sorry, Sam. What is he doing here, then? Talking to me and Thomas?”

“Trying to see if I’m a liar.” Sam fiddled with the hem of her skirt as she spoke.

“Oh, it makes sense now. He basically was asking me if you were like your mother. Same question again and again, just worded differently.” Laura came and sat at the edge of Sam’s desk.

“What did you say?” Sam’s voice was quiet as she looked up to Laura’s green eyes.

“The truth. That you and your mother are two completely different people. She has her head in the clouds and you have your feet buried in the ground.” Sam smiled softly at her assistant. She really was the best.