The Fall

Chapter 5

Zoe- 2016

I wake several times, overheated, sweating, and in desperate need of a release. It is nearly dawn when I finally give up on sleep. I shower before heading down to help Kari.

We had done so much meal prep on Thursday and Friday that I finally understood why they had so much space dedicated to the kitchen, with the seven fridges on the property, five freezers, and three ovens. I had made batter and streusel topping in quantities I never thought possible. Folding in fresh blueberries and prepping tin after tin of muffins, I realized they were being devoured just as quickly as they were being made, in batches of 48.

When Kari took the last pans from me, she gently ushered me out of the bustling kitchen. Joining the group of wolves outside was intimidating. I stood at the sliding glass doors of the dining room, scanning the crowd. Part of me was still looking for the brown-eyed hottie from last night, but I was also just curious. Gatherings this large were intimidating in their own right, and when you add in the fact that they were all wolves, with half of them still naked, it was a lot to take in.

Then, I spotted Ava in the distance. A small crowd surrounded her, and she seemed so unaffected by our parents' death. My eyes narrowed, and my jaw tightened. However, before I could dwell on her, I felt a change in the atmosphere, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

A voice, smooth as smoke and sweet as honey, came from behind me, saying, “I was worried you’d work through the whole meal. So, I brought you a plate, little one.” I turned to find him standing there, easily the most handsome man I had ever seen. My dreams had not been exaggerated.

"Oh, thank you," I replied, taken aback. I wasn't sure how I had earned the nickname "little one," but it made me feel even younger than I was. Despite his aura of power and rank, I realized that he wasn't much older than me.

“You are very welcome," he purrs, making me blush as I stare up at him. I feel tiny and small, especially when I notice the size of his hands compared to mine as I reach to take the plate. My flush creeps up from my chest to my cheeks as I continue to gaze at his handsome face. "Thank you for the best blueberry muffins I’ve ever had. Kari tells me you were responsible for the baked mac and cheese last night too.”

I wonder if I look starstruck, peering up at him with wide eyes, completely snared in his orbit. He bites his lip, looking down at me, and I think I hear him mutter something under his breath, something that sounds a lot like "seventeen." We stand there for several minutes, neither of us moving, until he finally clears his throat, and I feel the vibration in my chest.

“I’m Eero," he says, breaking the silence. "Sounds like 'arrow,' spelled like my parents wanted to be annoying.”

“How is it spelled?” I ask, genuinely curious.

“E, e, r, o,” he replies with a warm smile.

“Yes, difficult parents indeed,” I say, smiling back. “I’m Zoe.”

“Oh, I know. I asked about you last night.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear,” I say, feeling a bit self-conscious under his intense gaze. But his smile is easy, and as much as he ignites something in me, he also feels as comfortable as an oversized hoodie. Bantering with him gives me small flutters in my stomach while simultaneously putting me at ease. It's an ease, a comfort, a safety I haven't felt in years, if ever.

“How’s your solstice so far?” Eero asks, moving back toward the dining room table to take a seat.

“I’m not even sure I’m supposed to be participating in the events. I don’t turn 18 until Tuesday. So, I’ve just been creeping,” I reply with a hint of amusement.

“Lot’s to creep on,” Eero comments with a raised eyebrow, making a half-grimace that suggests there might be some sketchy things going on outside. I chuckle softly and make my way to the table as well.

As we sit down, the sliding glass door behind us opens, and a rush of air carries Eero's enticing scent around me. He somehow smells even better today, if that's possible.

“Eero! You met my sister!” I hear Ava's voice calling from behind us. I can't help but feel a pang of annoyance at the thought of Eero knowing my sister and being friendly with her. I've always tried to distance myself from people in Ava's circle.

“I did. I didn’t know you had a twin,” Eero responds.

“Most people don’t even know we are related," Ava chimes in as she joins us at the table, pulling her chair close to Eero. "We dress and act so differently.”

My sister isn't wrong. Unless we intentionally make ourselves look like each other, we don't appear alike at all. Ava is always in heavy makeup and skimpy, brightly colored outfits. On the other hand, outside of work, I live in comfort – leggings, hoodies, a messy bun. I don't wear makeup, and frankly, I don't have time for it between two jobs, school, and taking care of my parents. That thought brings with it a fresh wave of grief, and I'm suddenly hit with a deep sense of loss. I no longer have parents, and it's like a raw wound that won't heal. It snaps me out of the current conversation and sends me spiraling toward the gaping emptiness in my chest.

“You'll have to excuse me,” I manage to say, nodding and getting up from the table, leaving my plate behind. I need a moment alone to gather myself. The grief keeps sneaking up on me, and it's taking a toll on someone who hates showing weakness and despises displaying emotion. Crying randomly several times a day is starting to wear me down.

I make my way to the roof, a secluded enough spot to gather my emotions, I watch the wolves in the field, carefree and happy and I battle the festering feeling that I will never be like that again.

I continue to watch from my secluded spot on the roof, my gaze shifting between Kamden, Ava, and Eero as they exit the back porch. Eero's departure to the left and my sister's to the right leaves me wondering about him – where he's from, how old he is, and how he knows Ava. He appears to be in his mid to early twenties, but wolves age strangely. When they get their wolves at 18, they seem to glow up overnight. He could be 19 or 29 for all I know.

As if my thoughts have summoned him, Eero suddenly turns around, his eyes locking onto the roof where I'm perched. He holds my gaze longer than I'm comfortable with, and just as I'm about to look away, he raises a brow and smirks at me. I catch myself biting my lip, and I can feel my cheeks flush with warmth. It's embarrassing how flustered I am, and I mentally scold myself to get it together.

The truth is, I have no future here. I don't want to date a wolf, let alone have a wolf mate. I'm leaving in two weeks, and I've convinced myself that losing my virginity in that time would be the best course of action. What better time than the summer solstice, when all wolves are said to be incredibly amorous? I want to get it out of the way, to stop letting something as insignificant as my virginity hold power over me and future relationships. Besides, I need a distraction. Walking around in a constant state of grief and guilt can't be healthy, and these giddy feelings I have around Eero are a welcomed change of pace.

But how does one even have a hook-up? I think about my sister and the ease with which she's always flirted with guys since we first sprouted hair under our arms. She's so much like our mother, using her body to get what she wants. Our mother thrived on attention, constantly chasing that high. I don't want to be anything like that. However, for this weekend and my goal in mind, it's probably better to put on something besides my usual sweats and oversized t-shirts with worn holes in the hem and armpit. I hug myself tightly, realizing that I'm wearing one of my dad's shirts. It had been in my work bag, one of the few things I have left of him.