Cassie's Story: Chapter Twenty-Six

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Cassie's POV.

My friends describe me as a free spirit, but from the last few months, I can only be described as a broken spirit. There are many good things about being a shifter. We are blessed stronger and faster bodies than our human counterparts, we have better reflexes, longer lifespans and are generally much healthier. Most days, I would consider myself grateful to be a shifter. Yet one part really, truly sucks.

Having a mate.

Many shifters would disagree with me. They would argue that getting a soulmate is just another way we are lucky to be part of our kind. But they will most likely be thinking of their own mates when they say those words. I curse the fact we have soulmates because it is for that very reason that six months ago, I lost two of the most important people in the world to me. My parents.

My mother was killed in a very serious car accident. A lorry practically bulldozed her car and we lost her instantly. I felt it through our pack bond. She was gone. A week later, I lost my dad. No one survives the death of their mate. I knew he was on borrowed time the moment we buried her.

No one should have to go through when I had to experience. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. I have never felt pain like it, losing my closest family. No matter how many aunts and uncles gathered around me, nothing and no one could heal the fact my heart had been ripped out of my chest. At first, they made me stay at their houses so I wouldn't be alone. They comforted me and fed me and incessantly hovered until after a month or so, I learned how to fake a smile to get them off my back.

Two months after losing my parents, I moved back into my house. My empty two-bed house that my parents bought me for my twenty-first birthday. Three months ago, I had to celebrate my first birthday without them. Twenty-two was not a big event for me. I spent the day with Kayla and Sienna, and then I spent the evening much the same as I have for the last few months; lost in someone's arms.

I've never been shy about sex. Sienna politely dubbed me as a 'free spirit' but I know she really means 'loose' or 'promiscuous'. I don't mind any label. Call me a slut for all I care because I really don't anymore. There's a hole in my chest where my heart used to be.

My therapist doesn't agree with my coping mechanisms. He says they're neither sustainable nor healthy. I'm a smart girl, I know he's right, I've even agreed with him, but I can't stop. Going out, getting drunk and sleeping with a stranger is the only thing to distract me from my loss, even if only for a few hours.

It's not healthy I know, but I can't make myself stop. Not yet. The girls don't know the extent of my addiction. They think I'm out with my work friends and that I come home alone. I haven't told them I quit my job. When I go on nights out with the girls, I behave myself. I limit how much I drink and I only go home with them. It's when I'm alone and left with my thoughts that I make reckless choices. Sienna has always called me the wild one.

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"Mm, you're so beautiful."

The human male attacks my neck as his clumsy hands grip my hips. He's thrusting up into me and I'm doing everything I can to picture him as a handsome male shifter, not a puny human. He scrapes his teeth over my neck and I can almost kid myself.

"Stop talking," I tell him quickly on a gasp.

"So bossy," he chuckles.

I glare at him and he gets the message. He shuts up and fucks me harder against the tree. I close my eyes but it's no use. His dick isn't going to cut it. I reach down and rub myself. The stimulation is enough, I come around his cock, crying out into the alley. He groans and follows after me, emptying himself in the condom.

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