His Curvy Mate

4. Stalker Alert

I could smell her sweet addictive scent way before she even got in my line of vision.

My beautifully curvy mate had decided to join in on the fun that would take place on my eighteenth birthday’s party.

Needless to say I was anxious to see her. Had she dressed up for the occasion?

Then, as Claire tugged on my hand to get me to dance with her, I remembered just how shy and self-conscious my mate was. I frowned. If not with Claire, who had she come with?

I watched fascinated how she entered in her beautifully stretchy black dress which she was tugging down every now and then, and I couldn’t help but smile. I knew from Claire that Annabelle often sang to Inna’s song, Ruleta, and I just knew that she wouldn’t resist dancing to it.

I then saw Kyle, one of the school’s jocks drag her to the dance floor and I saw red.

Kyle was not a typical jock. Hell, he wasn’t even a player, and he probably had genuine feelings for Annabelle. But she was mine, and I didn’t do sharing.

Sure, I might have hurt her feelings by dating her stepsister, but that was only because her guard was constantly up, and she didn’t let anyone in, let alone allow anyone to get close enough to actually date her. She was so insecure that I hurt for her.

The logical course of action for someone like me? I chose someone who was close enough to her that I’d be able to watch over my sweet little mate without being too much of a creep.

Stalker-ish? Maybe. But I don’t care.

Being a little bit of a masochist, I couldn’t help but drag Claire in the direction of the couple that had my complete attention.

I’ll just watch his hands to make sure they don’t wander anywhere they shouldn’t, I told myself, trying but failing to calm my inner beast.

“Mate is with another male,” my wolf wanted nothing more than to claw at the leech’s face, for yes Kyle was a vampire –a young one, but a vampire nonetheless.  

How was it that a leech was on werewolf territory? Well, thanks to the oh-so-great Blake The Troublemaker and his Devil’s Pact –please note the sarcasm– all of us species were supposed to co-live in peace.

Okay, I have to admit The Devil’s Pact was a pretty cool little peace treaty which had served its purpose well, meaning putting an end to the era of continuous wars between the species, but that didn’t prevent us from having a few spats here and there.

Said spats when they resulted in an infringement of The Devil’s Pact only earned the perpetrator a nice little ass-whooping by the renowned Troublemaker –sometimes death was the sentence, and he carried it out unblinkingly.   

All that is to say that werewolves’ territories rules were applicable on werewolves only. Vampires were free to wander the lands, as long as they didn’t intentionally step foot into pack land per se. And witches did not side with either species, giving us free pass as long as we didn’t hurt the human community.

Therefore, I had no business killing a vampire for supposedly trespassing.

Besides, I believe it would be a bad idea to show Annabelle my violent side when she had yet to see my loving side.

Try as I might, I couldn’t keep my eyes off them, and I couldn’t help but strain my ears for anything they might say to one another.

When Kyle asked my mate whether she would give him a thousand more kisses if he were to give her one, I had to fight back every werewolf gene in me in order to stop myself from shifting right in the middle of the living room.

Ripping out his heart being out of the equation, I did the very next best thing. Just as he tried to kiss Annabelle, diving for a prize that was not his for the taking, I grabbed her arm and spun her around, making her face hit my chest.

She looked up at me, startled, confused and angry too. And I knew I had some serious explaining to do.

Come up with a lie, the sensible side of me reasoned whereas my wolf demanded another thing altogether, “Claim her.” He growled.

I did neither. I told her the truth –a part of the truth anyway.