I woke up as the morning sun filled the guest bedroom with a yellow glow. I stretched, took a quick shower in the en-suite, brushed my teeth and hair, and got dressed in the sweat pants and long sleeve t-shirt I had hurriedly packed the day before.
I went downstairs and found Fox and Nathan in the kitchen making pancakes for everyone. I smiled as they played easy, indie jams from a speaker and were engrossed in their own little world. Nathan twirled Fox around and then as they both laughed I turned and made my way to the living room.
The lake seemed to have calmed down, and the sky was unusually blue and cloudless. Taking a seat on the couch, I checked my phone for any updates on the attack or the lockdown. A local news headline read "Culprit Caught and Lockdown Ended," and was posted 2 hours ago. There was no mention of who or what the culprit was in the article, but as long as it or they was found, I guess the panic had ended.
The smell of coffee wafted into my nose and I looked up from my phone to find Wick carefully carrying two steaming mugs from the kitchen. I felt my smile expand across my cheeks and when he noticed my expression he grinned back.
As he gently handed me the mug and allowed me to get a good hold, our fingers brushed against each other's and I had to tell my fluttering heart to shut the fuck up.
He took a seat across from me in an armchair and took a sip. Glancing at my mug I noticed that his and mine were matching. Mine had pink words that read "my bitch" with an arrow, and his simply stated "her bitch."
I tried to hold in my chuckles but when he noticed what our mugs said he smiled sheepishly, smirked, and then we were both laughing hysterically.
"Ah, I've seen you've found my parents' favorite mugs." Kiera joked as she and Jess plopped down on the loveseat.
"They're extremely uh," I giggled, eyeing Wick as I took a sip of the rich coffee.
"Very eloquent and romantic," he replied in a serious, posh tone. I snorted loudly.
Before Kiera or Jess could respond Fox called out from the kitchen:
"Breakfast is ready!"
We all made our way into the impressive dining room that Nathan and Fox had taken the time to set and fill with bowls of fruit, cups of juices, plates of meats, and finally a hearty stack of pancakes. After thanking them profusely, we filed into our seats and began to fill our plates.
Jessica and Kiera took the seats at the far right with Nathan beside them, Wick took the seat directly across from Jess, and Fox left a seat between her and Wick so that she was sitting across from Wick. They all found their places so naturally, so effortlessly, I wondered if they'd had meals here together before.
Just as I went to take the seat between Wick and Fox Kolt came striding into the room, patted Nathan on the shoulder, ruffled Kiera's hair, gently touched Jess's hand, gave me a short bow, shook hands with Wick and finally plopped down next to Fox as they smiled at each other mischievously.
I awkwardly stood there for a moment unsure of where I fit in, whether I should go beside Nathan or Fox when I felt Wick gently take my hand and pull to the seat at the end of the table. They all stared at me, almost expectantly, as I took my seat and looked at them.
A beat passed and everything felt right. It felt like I had been looking for this for a while like I had never known how much I missed it. And as everyone snapped out of their pause and started eating or conversing, I felt like I belonged. And when I dared a glance at my right, towards Wick, our matching mugs now lined up next to each other, I saw in his eyes that he seemed to feel the same way.
After breakfast, I decided to venture down to the beach and bring my sketchbook along. The day was so clear and bright out that I was determined to take full advantage of it. Wick asked if he could join me, and I said yes. I needed to get used to being part of a friend group and not just choosing my solitude over potential awkwardness.
But it wasn't awkward at all. We took the long way through the woods to the beach, discussing what we wanted to do with our lives, where we'd hopefully end up living after college, and our families. I had called my parents and sister this morning after I received many concerned and urgent messages about the attack.
We strolled in step together easily, as I told Wick about my mom and dad, how I had a pretty open and healthy relationship with them. And I told him about my sister, how I'd always admired her and tried to follow in her footsteps, in my own way of course. I told him about Scotland and how it made me feel. I told him things I hadn't even told Jess yet, about my insecurities and fears. He listened to everything and only interjected to agree or commiserate with something I'd said.
Then he told me about his family. How is mom had been an intense and unyielding force his whole life. She had worked tirelessly for the town as Mayor and was constantly striving to better the community and the welfare of the people here. His dad was the Chief of Police for the town, which explained why he was so sure the attacker would be found. And Wick talked about how his dad worked to institute better diversity and more protections for citizens against police brutality. Wick didn't discuss these things looking for praise or compliments. He told me them because he was proud and excited for the community his parents were shaping.
By the time we got to the beach Wick and I had gone through multiple stages of friendship in half an hour. The waves were gentle and the water calm and walked along the shore silently. I found a good spot with a view of where I spotted the wolf and I took a seat before patting the ground for Wick to follow.
"So I talked to Dr. Harrison about the painting in your house," I said tentatively.
Wick pulled his knees up and placed his elbows on them, letting the sand he had picked up slowly fall before he responded.
"And what did he say?"
I told him all that I'd learned from Dr. Harrison: from the Vere to Mates and the Chosen, I left out nothing.
"I was hoping you knew more about the legend. I don't mean to sound annoying or weird I just haven't been able to get it out of my head since that night."
I looked towards the woods and then up the cliff to the spot that resembled the painting, noting the way the trees seemed to reach towards the end as though they were trying to grab something.
"Where should I start?" Wick said kicking his legs in front of him and leaning back onto his hands.
"Tell me about the Chosen, do other Were know they have Wolves? How do they turn into Were, and how do they find their Mates? It doesn't make any sense to me." I said exasperatedly.
"The Chosen are pretty boring in all honestly," Wick chuckled, "they don't know there's anything special about them, and it's hard for Were to identify them. But it's not impossible. With lower ranked Wolves it's not really manageable to tell who is inside a Chosen, especially if the Wolves didn't know each other as Lycans."
I was somewhat shocked. Wick was using all the same terminology Dr. Harrison had, and he wasn't laughing at my ridiculous questions. Wick watched me as I tied my hair into a loose bun as the wind started to bother me and I gave a look that urged him to continue.
"That's another important thing. Wolves have a system of ranking amongst them, and it doesn't relate to their status as Lycans. Those who were strong, kind, and brave as Lycans, became Alpha Wolves. They each have Beta and Gamma Wolves who protect and support them to whatever end. Then the rest fall into different pack categories, all depending on what they were like as Lycans."
Wick took a break from explaining and eyed me sideways to see my reaction. I was still hanging on, I think.
"Were can identify each other by shaking, holding, or touching hands. According to the legend, it's basically just convenient that way- I guess, ya know- I wouldn't know obviously ahaha. Most Wolves know all other Wolves, as they've been around for thousands of years. All Alphas know each other. And then as for how Chosen become Were, there are a few different options. As a baby or child, if a Were touches their hand their Wolves become present. If they're not awoken as a child it's kind of assumed that they'll never wake up, cause the scenarios necessary are sort of rough. Either the Chosen needs to have a near-death experience or feel a grief so intense their Wolves need to intercede."
Wick sat back up and leaned forward, staring intently at some spot on the horizon.
"What about um, Mates?" My voice was shakier and more awkward than I intended, but I felt as though asking the beautiful man beside me about soulmates was just a little too fan-girly.
Wick coughed lightly and looked around. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked up at me with misty eyes.
"Sorry, uh, what is your question?"
"Can a Were know if a Chosen is their Mate? How does that work if one of them knows they are literally fated to fall in love while the other is oblivious?"
My voice came out stronger this time, taking a scientific, pragmatic approach to the inquiry.
"I think," he began slowly, "that Were can have a feeling if a Chosen is their mate. I mean they know about their Wolf's soulmate, and a Chosen is a reflection of that soulmate in a way, so shouldn't they be able to sense the similarities? I think it would be difficult and I think... it would hurt the Were... more than the Chosen would ever know." He turned to face me fully, and the salty breeze twisted his dark curls in front of his silver, seeking eyes.
We didn't talk after that. We walked back up the mountain silently, and when we entered Kiera and Kolt's home, I grabbed my bag and left after thanking the twins. I didn't know why I was so affected by what Wick had said, but I saw the pain in his eyes, and I felt a pull on my heart so real I almost winced. I couldn't deny that I had feelings for this gorgeous, myth loving boy and I wasn't sure what to do about it.