Bearly alive

13

Stella

I heard the door slam and I instantly jumped, my heart remaining in my throat even though it started to beat like crazy. I barely had time to remember how to breathe, when another door banged, making a cracking sound. I cringe in fear. This time it was too close, I knew Roman was inside my room, yet I still remain in the bathroom since for some idiotic reason this feels like my sanctuary. Like he wouldn’t dare come in or something, which is ridiculous since this is his house and judging by how angry he returned, I was right into assuming he would think I wanted to run.

“Get out here little Omega or I’ll come in and drag your ass out.” I listen to the hash words hissed through the closed door to the bathroom and will myself to move before I angered Roman even further.

Somehow telling him that I only grew concerned and wanted to go look for him, make sure he was OK, seems like a worse idea than letting him think I tried to escape. So I keep my mouth shut but exit the bathroom and come face to face with a seething Roman. He looks at me and I’m surprised to read so much disappointment in his gaze. It makes my stomach clench. His nostrils flare and he approaches me, clearly ready to say something, but I take an involuntary whiff and my pulse quickens even further.

I’m not entirely sure what possessed me to do it, but I leaned in and did it again. And then I smelt it. I have no idea how, but I just knew Roman was coated in the scent of another woman. I smelt her on him and something changed in me. Like a switch had been flipped, my wolf came forward like never before. She was angry. I was angry. We were angry and so I felt my chest vibrating and then I heard the start of a growl. Low at first, but growing in intensity until I came nose to nose with Roman and looked straight into his eyes.

To his credit, he did look a little taken aback, maybe even sheepish. For all he knows I have no right to get jealous or whatever this is, yet he still regards me with mild curiosity and a hint of fascination.

I saw his lips moving but didn’t register the sound that came out, way too focused on my own growling which is unlike anything my vocal chords have ever produced.

A sharp pain stabbed at my side and I winced, slumping my body and franking thinking Roman must have stabbed me.

He did scoop me up in an instant and I got confused and somewhat panicked. I started thrashing, pain shooting through my body while my mind was being sunk deeper and deeper into a muddled haze.

I start hearing cracking and popping and feel how Roman moves with me through the house until we’re outside. Much to my surprise, he throws me onto the grass, an action that makes me focus my eyes back on him. Despite the darkness settling in I notice a trail of blood on his side and his own displeased grimace. Confused, I looked down at my hands even though until a second ago I was convinced he had hurt me. But as I look down, I don’t see my hands anymore. It also becomes clear what’s happening. I’m shifting.

Staring at my paws or whatever this is, I am in such shock that the pain of the shift doesn’t register anymore. Yes, there’s blood on me, and yes, it’s obvious I hurt Roman, and despite knowing that first - he’ll live, and second - he deserved it, I still feel remorseful.

After he’s given me space, cautiously on guard in case I do something stupid like actually try to run, Roman approaches. Little does he know, I’m too stunned to make any moves, definitely not fit to run away. I don’t even think I know how to, because from what I can see, I’m definitely not a werewolf, not a normal one anyway.

Roman’s hands are up in a non threatening way, and his steps are slow and calculated, allowing me time to process what he’s doing. Frankly, he looks like he’s going near a rabid animal. Correction, a rabid, wounded animal.

He stops a few steps short of touching me, an unreadable expression etched onto his face. The urge to flee suddenly consumes me. Not in a way of getting away from him even if he did kidnap me, but more like wanting to hide from him. I don’t need a mirror to know that I am a monster, I’m hideous, a reject.

I’ve never shifted before, and it’s not uncommon for Omegas, but I did see others in their wolf form. And none of them looked like me.

“Shhh, it’s OK, Stella.” Roman’s voice snaps my attention back to him. I notice he’s even closer now, his large hand almost touching my arm. Or paw. Or whatever you call this deformity.

I whimper, and he registers it as me being scared of him. Can’t he see how mortified I am? I mean if this man didn’t want me as his mate before, didn’t feel any kind of bond, he sure as hell won’t want to be associated with me after seeing this.

“What am I? What am I?” I whimper again, and a stunned Roman freezes. I still too, realising what just happened.

“Did I…” I speak again, tempted to put my hand to my mouth and see if it moves, but afraid of what I would feel if I touched my face.

“s**t. Goddess, yes. I heard you. You spoke.” Roman exhales, clearly not expecting that either.

Well, I definitely never seen or better yet, heard, of a werewolf speaking while in wolf form. Or any other shifter for that matter.

Dread, panic, shame, all of those emotions flood me at once and I let out an ugly sound, a cross between a sob and a growl. Hearing that depresses me even further and I’m sure the wetness I feel on my face is the result of tears. Add pathetic to my list of attributes, too.

“You’re a f*****g miracle is what you are.” I hear Roman say, though I’m not sure he actually meant to say the words aloud. He looks shell shocked and one step away from bursting into manic laughter. Which only makes me cry harder. He’s laughing at me.

I close my eyes and will myself to shift back into my human form. I have no idea if I succeed or not, because I don’t feel any of the pain I would expect. Instead, I feel two strong arms manoeuvring me until Roman is carrying me once more. And since he doesn’t grunt or seems to struggle under my weight, I must have shifted back. I felt happy about the thought for a brief second, relieved even at the idea of not looking like a complete freak of nature. That is until the wave or realisation comes crashing down on me. If I shifted into my wol… my monster, and then shifted back, then it means I must be naked.

I shriek and try to cover myself which is terribly hard when someone is carrying you. Again, Roman doesn’t look too pleased with my reaction, he seems rather annoyed if the way he threw me on the sofa is any indication.

What I notice though, now that my eyes are open and Roman’s hands aren’t covering me, is that I’m still wearing clothes. They are ripped and barely hanging on my body, but I’m not naked.

Great. Not only am I not a normal werewolf but a disfigured freak, I’m also small enough in that shape to keep my clothes on. What a joke I am.

Opposite to my miserable state, my wolf, for lack of a more appropriate word since she didn’t appreciate me referring to her as the monster, is feeling happier than ever. She’s smug and proud and pissing me off, because I really can’t see any reason for that. Neither can she since she hasn’t provided one. All I hear is her chanting not Omega and something about her knowing it all along.

The slap of something hitting the coffee table next to me makes my body jerk in surprise. I look at Roman, his wide eyes and subtle smirk making my eyes narrow. Then his chin dips down and I follow his gaze to a folder he dropped on the table.

He reads the unspoken what’s this in my eyes and a small laugh escapes him. I don’t think it was on purpose, but he really seems too stunned to school candid reactions like that one.

“I’m going to hop in the shower. Read this until I get back and then we can talk.” He shakes his head and disappears, still looking in disbelief. That makes two of us, Roman. That makes two of us.

I’m not sure if he interpreted my reaction to the smell that still lingers on his like cheap perfume. I’m not sure if maybe he feels guilty because that sparked my shift and subsequently learning what a freak I am, but I can’t help the way my heart fluttered when he said that. In my mind, it feels like Roman is doing that for me, for my comfort, so I oblige too.

I glance at the file and the name written on the white label catches my eye also making something stir deep inside me: Lycans.