Leon

"A wolf is a wolf is a wolf." No, I didn't just stutter. Or suffer from an involuntary muscle twitch in my jaw that impended my speech. This is a popular fraise that can be used with any fierce animals of violent or dangerous habit. Because you can never quite count on or trust a wolf. Especially if you are human. And Wyatt was human. He looks out to the sunrise over the dense, green forest as I brush off my t- shirt. Dewy morning air sticks to my face as I climb up the stone path. For the past week I've been waking up at the butt c***k of dawn. The ungodly hour is unmentionable- I'll save you the gore and terror. And believe me, it's not like I wanted this. But the dreams are making me. The dreams have been taunting me. Taking me places in an alternate reality. My restless wolf presses and prods until I am awake and out the door. He leads me down pathways unknown. I've lived in this estate for the past three months- I thought I knew the woods by now. "I thought wolves preferred the cover of night," Wyatt muses and looks back towards me. His pale skin turned white in the new glow. His freckles disappeared. I shrug. "Wolves prefer whatever they prefer. And sometimes they prefer to bask in the warmth of the forest." He chuckles. "And freshly awoken forest creatures they can snack on?" "Oh, yes. Stirring a bunny from its slumber turns out of be quite satisfying." I snap my teeth. Wyatt can't hide his grimace. "If Carmella ever ate a rabbit..." "She probably has," I respond seriously. "Human mates are so judgmental," I follow up at the sight of his horrified expression. When he doesn't argue, I roll my eyes and head inside. The glass door opens easily and leads into an open concept hallway. The whole back wall is glass. I had been struck at how classic and luxurious this house is. It had taken weeks to get used to the marble floors and elegant furniture. "Come on," I groan and walk into the kitchen. "You met Carmella years ago and lived with her in Marcus' pack house before moving here. How can you not be used to wolf habits by now?" I grab a water bottle from the fridge and begin to chug. These runs have been taking a lot out of me. The red haired man shrugged and looked around the room. "I understood her habits and ways of life but it never quite settled with me. I knew...before the baby passed away," He grew solemn. "I knew it might've been a werewolf. The thought didn't disgust me, I knew I would've loved him or her, but it worried me. Your kind lives a dangerous, complicated life." His shoulders slumped. Carmella and Wyatt had lost their child after the raid of Marcus' pack. Marcus allowed his grieving aunt to move to Ireland with some of the packs inheritance. She had taken Wyatt and two betas with her. When I first met Carmella, I was taken aback. She was bubbly and talkative, not like her brother Aspen at all. And if I had been a complete stranger, judging by her over attitude I wouldn't have guessed most of her clan had perished. The couple had a strong bond and they rarely mentioned before. That goes for the rest of the pack as well. Marcus had uprooted us in hopes of leaving the bad memories behind. I knew it was mostly for Evaline, and that was just fine. Just days before arriving in Ireland, my father attacked Marcus' pack along with my sister and I. He was rogue and had killed my mother and my pack before Evaline and I had found Marcus. Evie ended up killing him and that had taken a toll. Even though we both had found peace in our rogue fathers death, the actual murdering is what plagued Evaline with nightmares and flashbacks. She stayed strong. Marcus made sure she was happy and eating regularly; her diet had improved as well. I talked to Evie whenever there was a chance. We discussed that night constantly for the first month; how Eric White had threatened the lives of our friends and her mate. I made sure she knew she had made the right choice. Because the gun had been pointed at me at one point. It had been down to the decision between our fathers death or mine. "Of course I would save you," Evaline explained on one of our first nights here. "I'll always save you." Wyatt wasn't wrong. Wolves lived a dangerous life. For some, it gets worse before getting better. - I decide to take a long, hot shower before jumping back into bed. My muscles ached and my head was pounding. I washed my hair thoroughly, taking my time to decipher just what happened this morning. There was a smell this time. The past few days had just resulted in small signs showing me someone had passed through the trails before me; a human. But this morning was vanilla and peach. It was entirely too strong for the norm. I had never trailed after a scent like that. And it had been about 12 hours old. Whoever was in the forest last night has been long gone by the time I caught the trail. It disappeared soon enough. I couldn't help the sinking feeling of disappointment in my stomach. I also didn't understand where the disappointment was coming from. My wolf whined at the thought of the smell. He wanted to go out again. To pick up where I had left off. What was happening? Why were my instincts pulling me towards the forest constantly? It seems that my dreams weren't a big enough hint. My wolf wants out. And he wants out now.