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A Werewolf’s Peace

🇺🇸Olympiani
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Synopsis
Mir is a waitress at her Moms’ restaurant in Massachusetts. She works with her 3 older brothers and 1 older sibling at the restaurant every day. Her parents have moved around a lot in her 20 years of age and they just recently moved the family to America. She was hesitant to go out, but once she did… well, she found the most gorgeous pair of eyes she had ever seen. These golden eyes, however, were attached to Caine Calypse— a billionaire bachelor who likes to drag race for fun. The people of the world she didn’t like very much, but she loved being outside with nature. Caine found her again. This time on pure chance. He locked eyes with his truemate. He didn’t even know her name in this lifetime. Centuries ago, Caine was a cruel werewolf emperor. That is, until he found his mate. His kind, fierce, and brave Paloma. He had changed for the better when he met her and he was happy— until a wicked witch cursed him for his evil ways. His mate was fated to live a human in every life and he was cursed with immortality. The witch disappeared and he searched for his mate for thousands of years. He had never lost hope. And now that he finally found her, he was not going to let her go again. He would rather die. Now, he must convince this human to fall in love with him while simultaneously searching for the witch to turn the spell back.

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Chapter 1 - Love Thy Ducky

I sighed heavily as I leaned against the counter. Lots of customers today. Well, I suppose it is because the restaurant is still relatively new and people are always coming and going.

"Hey, Andrew," I called over my shoulder when the people finally stopped streaming in.

"Yes, Dovey Ducky?" he said endearingly, walking over to me. "What's up, Lil Sis?"

Andrew, the second oldest of us, was 28 and 6'2. Like the rest of us, he had thick black hair (which he had chopped short) and the same tanned skin as our Cuban mami. But he was the only blue-eyed kid that took after our Russian Mama. His fiancé, Marie, was French and looked the complete opposite of him.

"I'm gonna take a break for a bit, is that okay?" I asked him.

"Mmmmm," he hummed, thinking. "Yes. As long as you get Tasha to cover you. I think her break's up anyway."

"Okay, thanks, see you in a bit," I said, my long black hair was braided and swung around my hips when I walked.

In the break room, a brown haired 25 year old woman was sitting on the ground on her phone with a half-eaten sandwich in her mouth.

"You have to get back to the register," I said.

Tasha stood up without looking at her and took a bite of the sandwich.

"Hey, Mir, what's your accent?" she asked with a mouth full. "Like, I know one of your moms is Russian and the other is Cuban, but, like, I know you also lived in Greece and France and you sound a lot like Gal Gadot, but I just looked it up and she has an Israeli accent and—"

I walked away, tired of listening to Tasha's nonsense rambling. I had better things to do. Like eat.

I walked into the kitchen and found Mami and Mama cooking together in perfect synchronization. They combined recipes from all over to make food no one had ever tasted. Not to mention, they were the strongest couple I had ever met. And super sweet, too. I've always wanted what they have.

Mami was born and raised in Cuba for 18 years before traveling to Russia where she met Mama. Mami was a 5'0, curvy and athletic woman. She has super curly black hair and hazel eyes. Mama was 18 when she met Mami, too. They were doing sports together and fell in love with each other. Mama was a 5'10, thin woman with long, straight, sandy-blonde hair and the bluest eyes in all existence. They were both 50 now and their love was still as strong.

Tybalt, my oldest brother, looked up from chopping vegetables and met my eyes. He had hazel eyes like Mami, but Mama's brilliant smile.

I smiled back and walked over to him. He set down the knife and wiped his hands on a towel. He turned to me and looked down, his long, curly black hair pulled back into a pony tail. He was 6'4, so I really had to look straight up— I was only 5'2. To be fair, he was also ten years older.

I hugged him and sighed deeply.

"Long day?" he asked, squeezing me tightly.

I only nodded into his chest.

It was 9pm on a Thursday night in Boston, Massachusetts.

Always. Busy.

"Hey," he said, pulling back. "Gisela is working late and could use a babysitter for Adelaide if—"

"YES," I replied immediately. I ADORE my 2 year old niece and love spending time with her.

Tybalt laughed and patted my shoulder. "Okay, have fun."

I kissed Mami and Mama's cheeks on the way out.

A short while had passed as I was playing with my niece even though she wasn't supposed to be awake. I read her a few stories before she fell asleep.

I got up and went into my room. Our house was built over the restaurant, but I had learned to find the noise comforting. The steady sounds of life, even if they weren't crickets and birds and frogs.

As I climbed into bed after a nice, hot shower, my skin started to prickle. Being so many places with different people had taught me a few things. One being that my skin only prickled when someone was watching me. This wasn't the first time actually. It started a few days ago. It was the night after I had gone out during the day. I figured at first that it was just because I wasn't used to so many people at once. But… I don't know…

I walked over to my window and peered down. Scanning the streets and sidewalks, I didn't find anything out of the ordinary.

I was about to walk away when I suddenly found myself looking at a figure dressed all in black. They had a masculine figure and their hood was pulled up far around their face, obscuring the face of the person who was standing in the middle of people walking and facing towards my window.

Creepy. Nope.

I closed the curtains and climbed into bed, clutching my stuffed duck that I'd had since childhood. Ducks were my favorite animal.

~

I saw her. She wasn't looking at me first and just looking around, but then she saw me. Gods above, I had missed her so much. Her long black hair was wet and her skin looked like it was glowing— she must've just taken a shower.

I couldn't wait to hold her in my arms again. To kiss her, hug her, tell her how much I love her and would do anything for her.

And tell her that I wouldn't stop searching for a way to be together again.

She is mine. And I am hers. Forever. Always. My mate, my one.