Nate hands me a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, explaining, "There's an orange tree just a few meters from here, so this juice is straight from the tree."
"Thanks," I reply, accepting the glass and taking a refreshing sip. An awkward silence settles between us.
After a moment, Nate breaks the silence. "So, uh, you must have come from pretty far. There aren't any packs around here."
I meet his gaze, the memories of my recent past still fresh in my mind. "My father was killed by my Alpha," I begin, my voice steady despite the pain that lingers in the words. "He was trying to kill the Alpha's mate, and I was exiled for bullying her."
Nate's eyes widen in shock, a mix of sympathy and understanding crossing his features. "Damn," he murmurs softly, his gaze turning thoughtful.
"And I," Nate starts, "was exiled from my pack for my 'gay disease,' as they called it. In reality, it was because I refused to submit to the Alpha's authority. Code for giving him 'head'." Nate says.
"Damn," I echoe, filled with empathy.
Unexpectedly, we lock eyes, and a shared understanding passes between us. In that moment, the heaviness of our burdens seems to lift, replaced by a shared sense of camaraderie. And then, almost simultaneously, we burst into laughter..
*
A year has passed since Nate entered my life, and now I can't fathom it without him. He's a radiant beam of sunshine in my days, bringing a sense of joy and freedom I never imagined possible within the confines of the Mystral Pack. Gone are the days of starving myself to fit into Jake's ideal type, and I've embraced my natural hair color once more. Nate often remarks that I look healthier and happier, and I can't help but agree.
Living alongside Nate has been transformative. With him by my side, I've found a sense of liberation I never thought attainable within the pack's rigid structure.
"I think you look better when you're not half-dead," Nate would often joke, his eyes twinkling with genuine affection.
And he's right.
Nate and I share a common bond, both of us were exiled. Fortunately Nate was saved by a witch. He was exiled at the tender age of 19 - a mere pup given that wolf shifters have a life span extending to 300 years. His former Alpha, well over 200, had no qualms preying on a child, an action I find utterly despicable. If our paths ever cross, I'm resolved to personally rip his throat out. Isolde Evergreen, the witch who had seen a century of life, found a broken little wolf and took Nate under her wing, providing him refuge.
Isolde passed away peacefully in her sleep a month before I encountered Nate. Her parting words were a cryptic prophecy of sorts, "a flickering ember will land on your doorstep, wait for it." Then she was gone, just like that? Nate fondly remembers her as being 'quirky'. He must be right, witches are rare and definitely not known for their sane mental capabilities.
*
The journey to Moonsand City is a bumpy ride in Isolde's old truck, which has definitely seen better days. The rusty exterior and squeaky brakes are a testament to its age, but it holds sentimental value as the vehicle Isolde used to buy supplies for the town. Nate's at the wheel, and I'm beside him in the passenger seat.
"Embie! I think that's the town!" Nate's voice breaks through the hum of the engine as he points ahead. I follow his gaze and see the faded sign that reads 'Beary County.' A surge of excitement rushes through me as we approach the town that is said to be full of Bear Shifters. I've never met a Bear Shifter before, and the thought fills me with both curiosity and eagerness.
As we drive into Beary County, we're greeted by a booming voice that reverberates through the streets.
"ISOLDE!!!! WELCOME!!!" The voice belongs to a towering man, standing at an impressive 6'6. Despite his imposing size, there's a warmth and friendliness in his greeting that puts us at ease.
Exiting the truck, Nate explains to the man that Isolde has passed away. I can't help but stifle a laugh as Nate struggles to console the big man, who seems genuinely saddened by the news. In return, the man extends his hospitality, taking us under his wing.
First, he leads us to a cozy diner with the comforting aroma of home-cooked meals. The diner is bustling with locals, their chatter creating a lively ambiance. We're treated to a hearty meal, the warmth of the food spreading through us and filling our bellies.
Next, we visit a quaint clothing store filled with handmade garments and unique trinkets. Nate and I browse through the colorful fabrics, each piece telling a story of its own. I'm drawn to a delicate scarf woven with intricate patterns, a souvenir of our visit to this vibrant town.
Finally, the man leads us to a charming motel adorned with twinkling lights. He explains that all accommodations are provided free of charge as a gesture of gratitude to Isolde for her years of kindness. It's heartwarming to see the impact she had on this community, even in her absence.
In the motel room, I've just finished a refreshing shower, the warm water soothing my tired muscles. Nate sits beside me, applying ointment to my back where the skin is still sensitive, despite it being over a year since my exile.
As he tends to my wounds with gentle care, I feel a wave of gratitude wash over me. When he's done we decide to clock in for the night.
"Hey Ember, you'll always be with me right?" Nate says as he snuggles into my chest because I'm 'soft,warm and cuddly' and 'my boobs feel like heaven'. I run my hands through his hair.
"Yes, Nate."
Nate and I have found ourselves in a relationship that some might deem a tad unhealthy, relying on each other as emotional crutches and all. But despite this, I wouldn't change a thing for the world.
Our bond has grown into something deeper than just friendship, morphing into a reliance on each other for support and comfort.
Nate is my constant, I am his. Extremely unhealthy.
*
As dawn breaks, we bid goodbye to the bears and embark on our expedition. I'd heard tales of the wondrous speed of planes, reducing hours-long drives to mere minutes. However, despite the resurgence of technology, dragons, fairies and bird shifters have thwarted the reestablishment of aviation. 1Something about the skies being their homegrond.
Guided by the intermittent flicker of our GPS, we set our course for Moonsand City. The hospitable bears had enhanced the truck's performance and generously provided us with some extra fuel.
Our journey has spanned over two months, filled with misadventures - losing our way, skirmishing with random wolves, and even eliminating a vampire who fancied Nate for his unsavoury subterranean lair, some creepy sex dungeon. I shudder when I remember that man.
Eventually, grand edifices and expansive white sands, hemmed by an unending forest, come into view. It's easy to see why the place is called Moonsand - the white colored sand surrounding the place.
Right then, the truck coughs its last breath.
Nate erupts into laughter, earning him a playful knock on his head from me. "What? I'm just relieved it broke down near the city. I've been dreading it would fail us in the middle of nowhere," he justifies, his voice tinged with relief.
He does have a valid point. We exit the truck to survey the damage when my wolf snaps to high alert.
"Nate. I need you to bolt to the city and summon help. Immediately," I instruct him.
Concern shadows Nate's features, then I perceive his wolf instincts stirring within him. His wolf senses the impending danger too. I cradle his face in my hands. "Your wolf is nimbler and swifter; you need to go. Now." I plant a kiss on his forehead, and Nate dashes off towards the city in his human form.
Barely five minutes have passed since Nate's departure when a band of rogue vampires encircles me. Well shit.