Mastering others is strength,
Mastering yourself is true power.Lao Tzu
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I once thought strength was something you were born with. You were either born strong willed, or born weak minded. Just as you were either born good or evil. Black and white thinking kept my mind at ease, helped me to justify the things that happened in my life. I had never thought in grey, I loathed the color. Grey confuses and conflicts the mind. It never crossed my mind that strength is born in troubling times, when you have lost more than you've gained.
I was once weak, swayed by the opinion's and comments of those my age. Words pierced my skin, insults ate away at my soul. I was an exposed nerve, navigating our complex world with a constant chip on my shoulder.
My story begins in a small town, located in Eastern Texas. My life wasn't full of tragedy. Misery and trauma weren't the cause of my soft-hearted-ness. Life was fair to me, as it is to most people. The good meshed with the bad, creating a life that was pleasant and appealing to the eye.
There was much I couldn't remember from my childhood, a head injury taking away some of my memory but things like that were often easy to let go.
I had two caring parents, which was more than most people had. My Dad, with his smile that lit up a room and a laugh that sent others into hysterics. He was the joy of my childhood, brightening the dark spots that would form. My Mom, with her kind hearted nature was the backbone of our family. She would laugh through my Dad's antics, smiling with the joy her little family brought her.
As it always does, tragedy struck. My Dad died when I was only eight years old, too young to have contained many memories of him. The one memory that stood out the most was the night we built a bonfire in the forest behind our house. A bear had wandered into the little clearing, frightening me as I clung to my Dad's sweatshirt. The bear stalked forward, unaware it's life was in danger. Fear sent me spiraling backwards, hitting my head against the earthen floor. Dad chased the bear away that night, fear did not follow him as it followed me. That was the night my memories became just out of reach, a harsh mist clouding many of them. While some memories remained clear, others were tainted by the same mist.
Mom mourned, as widows often did. We held each other tightly, fearing one of us would be next to leave this world. Life without my Dad was a difficult adjustment. The stages of grief passed over me faster than they did my Mom, leaving me some-what frustrated with the world.
How easily someone could be ripped from your life, someone whose place was impossible to fill. I spent an entire year searching for a way to fill the hole inside of me, searching for some way to dull the ache in my heart.
It was the day after my ninth birthday that I found Micah.
My Mom threw me a birthday party as she did every year, even though I insisted I didn't want one this year. My first birthday without Dad, it was a hollow birthday to say the least. Many of the invited children didn't show up, but that didn't surprise me. Friends were scarce during this point in my life. I didn't fit in with the other children, never quite knowing what to say or do around them.
I had woken early the next day, venturing from the house on my own. Our backyard was huge, or perhaps that was just my childhood memory. An old swing set sat towards the edge of the woods, a place my Dad and I used to play.
There were times as a child where I would become incredibly frustrated, unable to understand why some memories were just out of my reach. The day after my ninth birthday was one of those days. I wandered up to the play set, struggling to recall my Dad's face as he pushed me on the swing. Anger does things to the mind, removes fear when fear should be present.
I wandered into the woods; determined to find our old bonfire site. I needed to see for myself, see the place I had lost so many precious memories. With child-like innocence and ignorance, I walked into the woods. The words of my parents swirled in my head, a clear warning not to venture by myself.
I knew I was lost when the sound of running water filled my ears, it's fresh scent filling my nose. I approached the wide stream with its bubbling waters and overgrowth of shrubbery. Large rocks coated in shining green moss stood out against the clear blue waters.
It was when I pulled my eyes from the moss coated rocks that I noticed a pair of golden eyes staring back at me. A boy, my age from the looks of it. His plump lips were parted in shock, a mop of bronze hair sitting on his head. I was too young to view boy's as anything other than friends, but Micah held a certain beauty that most adults struggled to attain. His skin was deeply tanned, yet looked smooth and soft. His golden eyes matched the hues in his hair, lit by the sunlight.
'Hello!' I called out, my hand raised in an attempt to wave at the boy.
That was the first time I had met Micah, and I watched in a stunned silence as he fled from the stream. Our friendship had a slow start, but I continued meeting Micah at the stream for many years. I would often go on the weekends, spending the entire day with him. He was my first friend. Elusive yet charming and kind.
The next weekend, I returned to the stream with it's bustling waters. The boy was already there, perched on a rock as he poked at the running water with a stick. When his eyes met mine for the second time, they held no shock. I watched silently as a lopsided smile formed on the boy's face, and he beckoned me closer.
"I'm Micah." The boy smiled, handing me a stick of my own.
"Raelynn." I grinned back, joy filling me at meeting my first friend.
I watched Micah grow through out the years, still holding the beauty he had as a child. His features elongated, his tanned face aging into that of a man. His hair remained bronze, his eyes still gold but everything else had changed. His boyish figure turned slim, traces of muscle protruding from his skin. Micah would never speak of his family, of where he returned once his time at the stream was finished. We rarely spoke about our home lives. The time at the stream was a reprieve from our home life, a life filled with as much good as there was bad.
I never minded knowing little about Micah, and he never pushed me for answers. We talked about hopes and dreams, lives beyond the ones we were forced to live.
Life at home had become much more strenuous. Mom was still my rock, anchoring me to this life preventing me from floating away. Starting high school was a monumental point in my life, pushing me farther away from the kids my age. Fitting in had always been a struggle, making friends was nearing impossible.
My second friend was a shy girl by the name Alyssa Porter. Short with chocolate colored hair and a healthy splattering of freckles on her face, Alyssa had approached me during lunch. I spent my time at home and school with Alyssa, my weekends with Micah always on my mind.
One Friday afternoon, I ran home with tears streaming from my eyes.
A group of kids at school had pinned me against the locker, ruining my white blouse with a bottle of fruit punch. I never made it inside my house, Micah and our stream at the front of my mind. Micah wasn't at the stream when I arrived, as I typically met him Saturday's.
My tears dripped into the stream, mingling with the cool waters. A silent gasp left my lips as the face of a young girl peered at me from the water, a look of bewilderment on her face. Porcelain skin, white hair and crystal blue eyes peered back up at me.
"Raelynn?" Micah's confused, yet calmly smooth voice called out.
I turned my head to meet his golden eyes, and when I looked back the girl was gone. Micah's face contorted in confusion as I told him about the girl in the water.
"You didn't see her?" I frowned, tilting my head at Micah as he crouched down to the water.
"I did not." Micah shook his head, his fingertips grazing the water's surface.
Micah turned and touched my damp shirt, toying with the red stain that had formed.
"You are sticky." Micah pointed out, a smile toying at the edges of his lips.
I let out a little chuckle when Micah dragged his finger over my sticky cheek, bringing it to his lips.
"And you taste like fruit." Micah grinned, but it fell from his face as he noticed the tear tracks down my cheeks, "You have been crying."
"Kids at school." I frowned, "They're not very nice to me."
"They do not seem very intelligent either." Micah raised his bronze eyebrow at me, earning a quiet giggle.
"They're not all bad." I smiled softly, "Some just ignore me, but others like to pick on me."
"School does not sound very enjoyable." Micah frowned, as if he never heard of the concept.
"You don't go to school?" I asked innocently, a stick in my hand as I poked at the water.
Micah shifted, his face clear of emotion. "I do not."
"Oh." I nodded, "Lucky, I wish I didn't have to go."
We continued our meet ups until I turned sixteen years old; A monumental age where I came from. My meetings with Micah became scarce, the two of us becoming busy with our lives. Often, I would go to the stream in search of him. A frown would plague my face whenever he failed to show up.
We grew distant, but Micah would always be my first friend.
There are four main species in the world, taught to us since we could walk.Humans - With their penchant for building and expanding. Raising buildings high into the sky, rushing around in their business suits with their smartphones glued to their ear.Vampires - Creatures who emerge during the night, humans their source of sustenance. Speed is on their side, allowing them to flit from place to place without being spotted. They live in the darkness and many can become one with it, cloaking themselves.Werewolves - Shape shifters by nature, with the spirit of a wolf living within them. They shift anywhere from ten years old and up. A mate is gifted to them, able to find them at sixteen or older. Speed and strength are on their side. Werewolves reside in a pack, a leader chosen among the masses.Fae - Elusive creatures, incapable of lying. Decades of being forced to tell the truth has made them gifted speakers, able to twist words easily. Not much is known about
I woke up that morning and got dressed as though it were any other day. Birthday's no longer felt exciting, but this one felt different.I felt excited for a chance. I knew I'd still spend the day bullied by Atlas and his friends but today was the day I was able to find my mate. It opened new doors for me in many ways. If I found my mate and he belonged to another pack, my Mom and I would move. I couldn't imagine my mate being from this town, as most of the people my age ignored me completely.I combed through my light brown hair, enjoying how much easier it was. A month ago I decided to chop my waist-length hair off, growing tired of how it constantly got in the way. My Mom was supportive and did the deed for me. My hair was no longer getting caught on everything, constantly slipping in my face.Once I was finished, I went downstairs. Mom had stopped trying to cook breakfast every morning. She had burnt so many pans of bacon I had lost count. Instead of cook
If I was strong I would've stayed. I would've fought for my mate, used the mate bond to bring Atlas closer. I would have found some way to make him see that I was more important than a girlfriend, as selfish as it sounded.It took me some time to realize how selfish and deluded Atlas had been. He chose Michelle over his mate. His two year girlfriend over his other half. Michelle had a mate out there somewhere. Was she destined to break his heart as mine had been broken?My world had come crashing down with his words. A part of me buried so deep inside broke, spewing out into the world like an unleashed tidal wave. My wolf was howling in my head, making my ears ring mercilessly.I gathered the scraps of my ruined book, clutching them to my chest as I turned on my heel and ran. I didn't notice the other students lingering in the halls, the ones who had witnessed the entire ordeal. The human students would have no idea what happened, but the werewolves wou
Mom offered me a ride home, which I reluctantly said no to. My face was red and puffy, aching from how much I had cried in her office. I needed time to think. Being trapped in a car with my Mom would only bring on the tears, and I didn't want any more of those. My body groaned and ached with fatigue, but I trudged home anyway.It was a fifteen minute walk to my neighborhood, giving me too much time to think. The entire scene in the hallway replayed in my head a million times. I thought of every possible thing I could've said, everything I could've done differently.Y'know how something happens to you and after it's done you think of everything you could have said? That was what I was going through. I could've pleaded, I could've simply stepped into his arms and used the mate bond against him. I didn't though, I didn't because I was weak. This fact was beginning to dawn on me, how I lacked true strength.When I made it home, I ran inside and grabbed a noteb
Mom drove through the center of town, turning into one of the residential neighborhoods. Every house nearly looked the same. Small and identical, ideal to fit the most amount of people in a small space."It's not as big as our old house." Mom grinned sheepishly, "But it's the best I could get on short notice. The landlord was friends with my Dad.""It's not a problem." I chuckled, my eyes tracing over the small square windows.My eyes were elsewhere. They were trailing over the porch's peeling blue paint. A low whine left Lila's lips as she recognized the similarities. That was one thing that needed to be changed.Mom parked on the curb by the house and popped open the trunk. Her arms were filled with bags as she wobbled down the sidewalk. I must've packed more than I thought. Her arms were overflowing with bags as she tried to carry everything at once. She could hardly see where she was going, nearly bumping into someone."Woah--" A man's voice c
Mom came into my room shortly after, letting me know everything with the school was in order. I would be officially starting school tomorrow, the thought frightening yet exciting.I laid in bed that night, picking my phone up to send Kris a text. I ran my fingers over the keyboard, struggling to figure out what to say. Alyssa and I never really texted. We hung out constantly, but rarely ever communicated over the phone.-Me 10:23p.m.'I'm all set for school tomorrow. What time does it start?'-Kris 10:29p.m.'Cool! Starts at 7, be at my house at 6:45'I had meant to send a response, but my eyes were fluttering warily. I fell asleep on top of the covers, my phone resting on my chest. The next morning, Mom peeked her head in the door waking me up in the process."What time is it?" I grumbled, squinting down at my phone."5:30." Mom responded, "Bet you're regretting not taking me up on my earlier offer. You could've been home
One Month LaterLiam and I had become the closest out of the entire bunch. Nicki and I had also grown extremely close. She loved that I had no sense of fashion, and allowed her to choose my outfits for me. She often paired me with cute skirts and tennis shoes, or the occasional dress but I didn't mind.In the month I had been here, I had grown more confident. I was now telling jokes with Kris and Dustin, or talking about guys with Nicki and Tyra. I'd often hang out with Liam, who wasn't nearly as grumpy as Dustin painted him out to be.No matter how hard I tried, Atlas was always on my mind. The first two weeks in town were horrible. I would awake in the middle of the night screaming, my insides burning with an invisible fire. Every nerve and cell in my body was screaming in pain. My Mom rushed into my bedroom without fail, soothing me with her words as best she could. After a few days, I finally got the truth from her. The truth broke my heart more than words ever
Six Months LaterI often thought back on the talk I had with Beta Ned. He was quite understanding about my situation, clearly seeing himself once in my position. While his words did nothing to lessen the pain, they helped me understand what to expect.I would never feel true happiness--not the way I would if my mate had accepted me. Atlas would always carry a piece of my soul within him, tethering himself to me. Even accepting his rejection would not remove that piece of my soul. Accepting rejection would only dull the mate-bond, making the pain fade as quickly as it had come. There was no taking back that piece of your soul. Once the Moon Goddess picked two mates, they would remain mates for life.Beta Ned asked why I had not fought for Atlas, why I had not tried something else instead of running away. I told him the truth--that I was weak and broke easily. He disagreed of course, but I already knew the truth. Beta Ned told me I might be better off accepting