Being the princess of all werewolves is not easy, but finding a mate is harder. Annabeth's royal life is turned upside down when she meets her mate, Kate.
Soon, she finds herself stuck between two choices: her duties to her family, and her love for...
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I take a stance, and the moment she advances, my mind is flooded with pictures, and I can barely take a step before she hits me and says, "Dead. Again."
My feet dig into the ground when I try to hold her off, and I even manage to land a decent blow to her side when the pictures appear again. Confused, I look at Ann and get sent to the ground.
"Stop that." I don't want to yell, but I somehow end up doing it anyways.
"Just close off your mind." She shrugs and goes again and again, bombarding me with memories of us. A kiss, a smile, of us holding hands when no one is around and how she feels when I touch her. It's all there and so damn distracting.
It feels like I am reliving those moments again; I see myself through her eyes, I can smell my sheets, and all this while trying to fight. Shaking my head doesn't help, nor does arguing with her because she keeps telling me to shut her out.
But all I end up doing, is telling her to shut up, which doesn't seem to impress her.
I'm pinned on my back, Ann's shoulder pressing against my torso, one of her hands wrapped around my leg, and one hooked under my arm. It's a basic combat situation, and despite knowing all the tricks to get out of this mess, I can't.
My hands slip from hers, and I can't even arch my back enough to create more room to move. The position is uncomfortable, but that's not even the real problem. It's those pictures and emotions. I feel hot and cold alike, a shudder burning down my spine every other moment.
The ground is soft, thankfully, but that doesn't change the fact that some of my limbs start to numb. If I'm going to spend more time here, I may consider naming it. Like... Georgia, the green grass, or Guinevere, the evergreen carpet of the hidden forest oasis.
"Ann," I croak out.
"I can't hear you." She laughs, but I can hear the exertion in her voice, and under other circumstances, I would definitely count it as a win to make her struggle.
"I don't feel so great." A fuzzy blur clouds my eyes, and even though my heart has been racing from the exercise, it now feels like it's about to burst as every thrum ripples through my torso, taunting my rips to crack.
One of Ann's memories flashes in my head, and I remember that day.
There is so much rain; it's falling like a curtain. Soaked clothes are sticking to my body, as does my hair. My ponytail came loose when I started to run for safety that never came. The bus stop was so crowded that I wouldn't fit in to find shelter, and I refused to go inside her school building and was way too shy to set foot in there.
It was warm enough, though, so it didn't bother me too much, and I kept waiting in the rain, and when she came, she stopped at the top of the steps, staring at me. I remember how the drops ran down her face.
