The House Of Wolves (BxM/Mpreg/Werewolf)

(1) {Revised}

Jasper's POV

To put it simply, my life went to shit on my ninth birthday. I remember the day as clear as crystal, for it was the day my childhood ended and I realized the world is not a pretty place nor is it good for those who want to keep their innocence.

The sweet, addictive sting of pain shot up and down my arm and I sucked in a shaky breath. From the newly sliced cut on my forearm, liquid rubies leaked down in streams, dripping off my finger tips to the old laminate below me.

A slight smile tugged at my lips as the pain webbed through the left side of my upper body providing the perfect memory impairment for the moment.

The only way to beat mental pain is physical pain, I chanted over and over in my head. Although my physical pain at the moment was high, I stood in the bathroom shivering as I crept closer and closer to the beckoning edge of death.

I focused on the six deep, two-inch lines spreading from my wrist to my elbow, watching as the blood seeped from the thin cuts meeting in one steady stream.

A sigh of release escaped my lips as I stepped back to the wall behind me and sunk to the ground. I lolled my head to the right as my head began to feel heavy. My breathing became more relaxed, slowing down until it was nearly unnoticeable. I blinked a few times before they would only open half way.

Finally, I blinked and they remained closed concealing my blue eyes behind red-rimmed lids.

I felt my almost unconscious body slowly curve to the right along with my head until I could feel the cold, floor pressed against right arm and shoulder and flushed cheek.

Pain is release because I am worthless.

Pain is release because no one cares.

Pain is release because everyone leaves me.

Pain is release because no one loves me.

Pain is release because no one wants me.

Pain is release because the nightmares are real.

Pain is release because waking each morning is a disappointment.

Pain is release because it's the only way to cope.

With that, I fell unconscious in a pool of my own blood.

After years do not being accepted, of not being loved it's over.

Pain is release because I don't want to live.

(DREAM)

The crescent moon glimmered against the night sky, out shinning the mediocre stars around it. A cold breeze swept through the familiar, vacant park, nipping at my knitted scarf-covered neck and face blowing my chin-length, dark brown hair astray. A shiver violently rippled through my spinal cord as I made my way through the dark forest.

Why am I here?

The thought echoed in my head causing my the corners of my lips to pull down in a frown. I scanned the darkness beyond the trees that were lining the paved pathway feeling uneasy; the suspicious feeling of someone out there watching me from the darkness making the dark hair on the back of my neck rise to a point.

Suddenly, the unmistakable crack of a twig sounded to my left just a little behind me. My steps stuttered to a stop before I slowly turned, fear pressing against the inside of my chest to the exploding point.

What I saw had relief putting out the fire that is the fear that consumed me.

A boy. No. Not 'boy'. The fine specimen before me was pure man. He had hair that looked like the blackest of a ravens feather that glistened in the light of the moon and skin that was a delectable bronze stepping out from the forest.

The more I looked at him, the more something seemed wrong though. He looked undeniably perfect; not a hair out of place. I glanced at his torso, clad in an obnoxiously skin-tight black shirt that certainly emphasized his inhumanly broad chest and biceps with black boot cut jeans that hung dangerously low on his narrow hips. Abruptly, his head shot up and a pair of vibrant indigo eyes gazed at me with a mix of shock, amusement and... lust?

The other side of his perfectly shaped mouth joined his other in a grin.

"Good night dearest Mate." And with that, his lean body lurched forward. I barely had enough time to register the two incisions in the side of my neck before my body became limp. His large hands ensnared my waist and arms, restricting all possible movement not that I had the strength to put up a fight.

An overwhelming sense of ecstasy flowed through my body that had me moaning into his ear.

As reality began to fade, I distinctly remember him saying, "Soon, my Love."

(END OF DREAM)

I shot up from my floor, sweating and panting and made the mistake of letting my arm hit the floor. I hissed in a breath as I cradled my left wrist to my chest. Tears flooded my eyes as I took in the sticky mess of skin covered in crusty blood.

My eyes flitted from one wall to the other to make sense of my surroundings.

Bathroom. I was in the bathroom in my aunt and uncles house in the safe town of Willows Creek.

I sighed in relief but couldn't help but put my petit hand to my neck where he bit me. Nothing. Just like all other nights.

I ran through the events of my dream trying to imprint it in my memory. Everything was the same, from wondering through a forest I've never been to right up to the moment he bit me. Only this time, right at the end, he said something. What was it? He's never said anything before. Why couldn't I remember it tonight?