Waindale

nine. adam

As the guys gently touch me and lead me to the door, he says, "Leave her. Forget it."

I watch them walk around me and out the door. Their obedience has me curious.

Sunlight filters through the windows, seeping through the thinning clouds and resting on his face. Would it be silly to say that he sparkles in the sunlight? Or is my head caught up in fictional fantasies and not this real one? Either way, unearthly or not, he looks at me, waits for me to speak but nothing leaves my lips.

"You're not allowed here, Wrenley," he says. My stomach wobbles inside of me. How does he know my name? "How much did Vivian tell you? Do you know what is happening here?"

His voice makes me giddy. There is no way that he is also that scary, rude, stubborn, super-sized beast.

I murmur, "Why do I feel this way? I don't... What are you?"

He stands from the desk he was leaning against. "This must be the one thing she's left out. Tell me, what do you know, Wrenley?"

Every time he says my name my heart squeezes. It's all too much. I watch as he drifts closer, trying to turn off the questionable thoughts in my head. A whiteboard is mounted behind me and I settle against it. I wonder if any teacher has ever written on it, or if this is all just a facade.

What do I know? "I know about your kind, a little. I know that there's a pack in Waindale and that wolves who don't belong to a pack are rogue. Vivian said an Alpha rules the pack. I-I don't get it, though—why this concerns me."

His eyes gaze down at me. "You're aware of the scent, aren't you? You told me that something inside of you wants me to be around, that your body feels different in my presence."

"That was before," I mutter, feeling my face heat up. "Just—why? What don't I know? Doesn't everyone feel that way?"

"No, Wrenley. Only you feel that way around me."

I peer up at him. "Why?"

"Because we're connected as you said."

"Connected?" I repeat. "How are we connected? I don't know you, not really."

He stands in front of me and my blush intensifies. I've never been this type of girl. Guys don't affect me this way. Back home I couldn't care less about dating and flirting and chasing and all those ridiculous things. Why am I such a blushing idiot now? I have seen beautiful people before, I know they exist, but for some reason when it comes to him, I have no recollection of such things.

"Are you sure you want to know?" He asks seriously and not teasingly.

"Is it really that bad?"

"Some people think so." He holds out his hand and tells me with his eyes to place mine on top. "Go on," he says.

I lift my hand and steadily place it down on his bigger one. Instead of an electric shock, a bizarre, good feeling makes me pull back. It's hard to admit that pleasure can come from such a small act. The sensation reminds me of when I felt his fur, only more severe.

I release a shaky breath. "Why did—"

"You're my mate," he says bluntly.

"Mate?"

"We're mated. You and I have been bonded to one another."

My lips part, no words come out except an unsure noise. "Why? What does it mean to be mated?"

"Every one of our kind is given a mate. A mate is, to put it lightly, like a life partner."

"B-But I'm not one of you. I'm human."