I don't remember much from my childhood, but a profound ache resides in my spirit, a void that seems to echo the loss of my mother, taken from me when I was just four years old. The memories are vivid yet elusive, like wisps of smoke slipping through my fingers, particularly that fateful night when everything changed. I was moved into a new home—a place that was supposed to be a refuge, where I would be protected. But what did that mean? Wasn't my last home normal? This new environment felt like a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit, and I couldn't shake the lingering questions that danced in my mind.
In this unfamiliar place, I met my sister, Olivia, and we quickly formed an unbreakable bond. We were like two halves of a whole, each finding solace in the other as we navigated our new lives together. Laughter became our shared language, filling the empty spaces where sadness once lingered. When I turned sixteen, I met Dean, a boy who was as charming as he was silly—the kind of person who could make me laugh even on the darkest days. Olivia introduced us during a period when her own relationship was faltering, her boyfriend sulking as if he were a lost puppy. But the joy Dean brought into my life was fleeting; he left the day I turned eighteen, leaving me grappling with an unsettling transformation that surged within me. My body felt foreign, twisting and turning in ways that even the doctors couldn't explain. My mother had always said I was extraordinary, but what did that mean in a world that felt so chaotic?
Then, one day, a voice began to whisper in my mind, soft and insistent like a gentle breeze. At first, I thought it was my imagination, a remnant of the confusion swirling inside me. I sought help from therapists, but they all claimed I had a mental problem, labeling me with diagnoses that felt like chains binding me to my fears. I started medication, desperately trying to silence the voice. If I was crazy, I wouldn't give it the satisfaction of acknowledgment.
Now, at twenty-four, I've moved across the country with Olivia, escaping the ghosts of our pasts. Six years ago, we both suffered devastating breakups that shattered our worlds. After losing those we thought we could never live without, Olivia became my anchor. Together, we saved up and fled the dreary climes of Missouri for the sun-kissed shores of California, a choice that felt like a rebirth, the best decision we had ever made. We swore to focus on ourselves, to reclaim our happiness, leaving the idea of dating behind. Yet lately, I could sense Olivia wrestling with that promise, her heart yearning for companionship.
Staying single felt comfortable for me. After Dean's departure, I couldn't envision myself with anyone else. Olivia, on the other hand, had always dreamed of settling down, and I could see her struggling with the thought of being alone. After our weekly movie night, we fell asleep early, Olivia buzzing with excitement for the night ahead. Tonight was our chance to be wild, to shed the mundane trappings of our office lives, and I reluctantly agreed to join her on one condition: no blind dates. I cherished her concern, but I wasn't ready to open that door again.
As Olivia excitedly planned our night out, I decided to shower, letting the warm water cascade over me like a soothing balm. I chose a tight, sheer black shirt that hugged my figure, revealing an intricate corset beneath—a daring choice. Paired with skintight leather pants adorned with holes and chains, and knee-high boots that clicked against the floor, I felt both bold and beautiful. My wardrobe often leaned towards dark hues, a stark contrast to Olivia's vibrant love for color.
We arrived at the party, and the atmosphere hit me like a tidal wave. It was a lavish affair, where bright lights pulsed in time with the beat of the music, creating an intoxicating energy. It felt like a nightclub, yet there was a cozy intimacy that wrapped around us. We made our way to the bar, where an incredible display of drinks sparkled under the colorful lights, each bottle glimmering like a jewel. Olivia quickly downed her drink and disappeared into the dance floor, leaving me in a corner to observe the swirling chaos around me.
Moments later, two men joined me, their presence both imposing and intriguing. They were muscled and exuded a confidence that made my heart race. I found myself wishing I had the desire to settle down like Olivia, but the thought of giving up my independence felt suffocating. I was content with my life, or at least I thought I was. Yet, as I glanced at the two men, a flutter of uncertainty stirred within me, nudging me to reconsider my choices.
The younger man turned toward me, his smile disarming. "Well hello, cutie. Why are you sitting here all alone?"
A blush crept up my cheeks, and I felt a rush of vulnerability. "I'm just relaxing, watching my best friend enjoy herself. What about you, handsome?" Did I really just call him handsome? The words slipped out before I could stop them, and I turned my gaze away, mortified.
He chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down my spine. "Same as you. I'm here with my brother, Kodi. Hoping he'll finally relax and maybe find someone to connect with." My heart raced as I shifted my attention to Kodi, whose expression was a mix of confusion and something deeper—a raw, magnetic pull that made everything else fade away.
In that moment, it felt as if the world around us shook, and a voice echoed inside my mind, sharp and insistent: "That's our mate." Panic gripped me. Who was speaking? Where did this voice come from? Questions swirled in my mind like a tempest. I had often talked to myself, but this felt different—terrifyingly real. I had been told countless times that I was crazy, so why was my mind screaming mate? What did that even mean?
Olivia often joked about mythical creatures, but surely they couldn't exist. I couldn't be a werewolf—those were just stories, right? My head began to spin, a wave of dizziness crashing over me as the music faded into a distant hum. All I could feel was air, heavy and suffocating.
Then, I heard Olivia's voice, faint but clear. "We need to go with them!" I felt someone's presence beside me, and then everything went black.
When I regained consciousness, the world was a blur. Olivia was nowhere to be found, and two men stood over me, their faces shadowed by uncertainty. A third figure approached, dressed in a white coat, his voice muffled and distant. Panic surged as I struggled to comprehend what was happening. Suddenly, he gestured for one of the men to come closer.
"Who are you?" I gasped, looking around for a hint of familiarity.
Just then, the man touched me, and I instinctively jerked away. But as his hand made contact, an unexpected calm washed over me, and the chaotic world around me began to settle. I heard the doctor say, "She's not ready to wake up yet," before a sharp sting pierced my arm. Darkness enveloped me before I could voice my objections.
When I awoke again, I felt slightly more lucid, able to lift my head and survey my surroundings. The doctor approached, his voice now soothing. "Where's Olivia? Who are you? What are you doing to me?" I stammered, panic welling in my chest.
"I'm here," Olivia said as she burst through the door, her relief palpable. She rushed to my side, wrapping her arms around me. "You're okay! Trust them. Just listen to the pack doctor; he'll explain everything."
A wave of realization crashed over me, forcing me to confront the absurdity of the situation. Olivia had never been joking about mythical creatures. Perhaps I was just crazy, a thought I oscillated between until the doctor began to speak again. "Meghan, you were taken from your mother when you were young because the pack was wiped out. A stranger found you screaming in a shed near your camp—his name was Jonathon Masters, and he belonged to the Blood Moon Pack. He took you in."
His words hit me like a freight train, overwhelming and undeniable. "No one knew you were a werewolf until you were sixteen when Jonathon said you showed signs of shifting. But because you were never taught how to, your wolf never came out. I need you to breathe. You're about to shift for the first time if you don't breathe. I know you're terrified. If you want to shift, we will teach you, but your first time is going to be painful, which is why now is not a good time."
The information swirled around me like confetti in a storm, and I struggled to process it all. Taking deep breaths, I focused on calming my racing heart while listening to my favorite song play softly in my mind. Then, that familiar voice bubbled up again. "Hi, my name is Magna. I would have explained all of this to you sooner, but I didn't want to overwhelm you. I can feel all your emotions."
The thought of having a voice in my head was both terrifying and exhilarating. As I began to relax, the man from before stepped closer, his presence enveloping me in warmth. "My name is Simon Masters, and I'm your mate. I know this is a lot to take in, but I promise I'll be next to you through everything, beautiful."
The word "mate" echoed in my mind, stirring something deep within me. I remembered the stories I had read—the concept of a goddess-given counterpart for every wolf. Suddenly, a rush of longing surged through me, an unexplainable desire to touch him. "Why do I want to touch him so badly?" I wondered, my body responding in ways I couldn't comprehend.
And then I heard him again, his voice a soothing balm in the chaos of my thoughts. "It's okay, beautiful. I'm here with you. You can touch me; it will calm you down. Do you trust me?"
As I stood on the precipice of my new reality, I felt the weight of uncertainty lift, replaced by a flicker of hope. Perhaps this was the beginning of embracing who I truly was, a chance to heal and find love in the most unexpected of places.