02 He is

Becca

I’m giddy with excitement all through rehearsal. I’ve met another werewolf. I can’t believe it. Every five minutes, my hand flies to my back pocket to take out my phone and text him, but I resist the temptation. I need to focus and finish with each band member as quickly as possible.

Scott, the lead, has been a pain in my ass since day one. At first, he said I couldn’t be his sound engineer because men have better hearing, and he knows I will fuck up his tour. His manager convinced him to ‘give me one night so that I can prove myself’.

Like I need to prove anything to anyone, I’ve been working on concerts for six years, and my reputation succeeds me. I have a team of the best technicians, and there has never been a complaint on any of the shows I did. Thanks to my werewolf hearing, I can detect any problem before anybody else hears it; I can easily balance all the speakers from my stage and distinguish each instrument regardless of the arena's size.

I can choose which tour I want to take at this point in my career. My preference is to visit new cities to expand my search for werewolves.

I started at a basketball court near home after graduation. I worked myself up from there to do events and concerts in the nearby cities, then eventually had enough experience and good recommendations to sign up for big concerts. After two tours as the technician of the engineer, he gave such a good report that the agency asked me to do the next one as the head sound engineer.

I deliberately chose this profession to be on tour with bands as much as I could to travel in hopes of finding other werewolves and eventually my mate.

I’m the youngest of three, and my parents are very protective of all of us, especially me as the only girl. My two brothers had it easier than me, but not by much. The possibility of Hunters finding us has dulled over the years, but it's still looming over our heads.

Our family of five, our small pack is my safe place and source of so much happiness, but I long for being in a pack. To run with others under the full moon, to be linked to other packmembers.

I just know there must be other wolves out there. We can’t be the only ones who survived the slaughter.

A few weeks after my 13th birthday, we heard bombs going off in the forest where our packmembers lived, and we felt the loss of all our members. The pack link broke with each of them, leaving us broken and empty.

Huddled together on my parents’ bed, our first instinct was to run and help, but it became clear in a few moments that no one survived. As the Alpha’s line was killed and every other member slaughtered, my father inherited the Alpha role as the strongest of our little family. We knew it was only us after that, and we had to find a way to stay hidden from the hunters.

Transitioning from homeschooling to traditional was the first thing we had to do. Fitting into social circles but keeping our identity was challenging as teens. I struggled just as much as my brothers, but we all knew pretending was our only choice. We couldn’t afford to reveal our true identity or let the slightest suspicion surface.

Sports were off limits, fearing we might expose our werewolf abilities. Going out had to be restricted because staying hidden was the most important. Since then, it was only us, rarely shifting, mainly to hunt for food.

Bliss, my wolf, suffered a lot. She should be bigger and stronger, but these changes stunted her growth. She never had enough opportunities, and it even hindered her hunting abilities.

I haven’t seen a werewolf other than my family in sixteen years. We didn’t dare to search for survivors or even visit the territory. It has been so long since I could be myself with someone other than my family.

I always followed my parents' instructions to lay low and remain unseen, blend in with others. Yet, since I turned 21, the urge to search for others and find my mate was irrepressible.

I may be too open, but I’ve been living like this for the last five years, and this is the first time anything has come of it.

After finishing with each instrument and microphone, I shut down everything and finally unlock my phone.

As I’m texting Jason Juice, I walk through the same corridor, only slowly this time. I’m sure he is still at work or something, but I can catch a cab to meet him where he is. I couldn’t determine if he was as excited as me until I stepped out the door, and his scent hit me.

My head jerks towards where he parked his car earlier, but it’s not there. It’s in front of me, with a cocky Jason leaning against it.

“Hey there,” he greets me with his unmistakable accent.

“Oh, hi. I just texted you.”

“I can see that,” comes his reply as he steps away from the car, opening the door for me.

I take a deep sigh. Let’s hope the first werewolf I meet is not a murderer or a rapist, I say internally, and get in the car. I’m always confident that I can fight off any guy, if necessary, with my wolf strength, but now my legs wobble a bit, realizing he has that too.

He changed from his painter’s clothes into casual jeans and a T-shirt, he probably went home, while I worked. Does he live with his parents? The idea of Jason living with a girlfriend strikes through me, and I quickly check if he has a wedding ring. I sigh because he doesn't.

I know nothing about him.

“So, as you know this place, where can we eat?” I ask as his engine rumbles, and we drive off.

“There’s an Italian Restaurant,” he replies, and I nod eagerly.

As he drives in silence, I feel awkward. I’m not sure which one of us makes the situation weird. I look around the streets, thinking about what to share with him.

“I texted my family about meeting you,” I tell him finally, deciding that he already knows I have them, hoping he'll elaborate on his. "They made me promise I'll call them after we meet."

“Yeah, I went home and told my mom, and she couldn’t stop asking questions about you. I was like, ‘Mom, stop. I don’t know anything but her name.’ Long story short, you’re invited for breakfast or dinner tomorrow. I wasn’t sure when you leave town.” he finishes with a grin, glancing at me.

I laugh along with him, imagining my mom acting the same way. “That’s lovely. I guess it’s different for them. They remember what it was like living amongst other wolves.” I whisper. “Not that I’m not excited, but essentially, I long for something I barely know anything about when they technically miss it.”

“Yes, that’s true. My mom hasn’t been this excited since… you know,” his voice turns sad at the end.

“I’m right up there with her,” I reply, bouncing in the seat a bit, trying to cheer him up.

We decide to eat in the parking lot of Taco Bell instead of sitting in a restaurant. We don’t want anyone to hear us.

“So, how were you…? Did you…?” I stumble over my words. How do you ask someone about the slaughter of their pack, family, and friends? “You know… what happened?”

“I guess we better get it out in the car when no one hears,” he says with a sad smile, and I nod in agreement. “My father stayed at the pack while my mother and I came for our usual Sunday visit to my human grandma. Mom cried out, falling to the ground breathless. She knew immediately that my father was gone, but the pain was too much, overpowering the breaking of her pack-bond. When she was able to stand again and ready to go home, we saw the smoke coming out of the bombed area and realized the pack was gone,” he says solemnly. “I was fourteen.” he glances at me, and I nod understandingly.

“I was thirteen,” I reply as our shared experience pulls us into an unmistakable bond. “Is your pack territory close by?” I ask a few minutes later.

“Yeah. We had no choice but to stay permanently at my grandmother’s house. The pack was hidden in the woods, but we haven’t been there since - traps could be around the area to catch anyone attempting to return.”

“We haven’t visited the pack lands, either,” I sigh heavily before telling him my side. “The reason why we survived is because we never lived there. We felt the pack links broke, one after another.”

I stare out the window, still remembering the pain and the confusion that followed it. This is the first time I ever met anyone who understands it. “Even though I’ve never lived closely with a pack, we went for pack runs each full moon. That’s what I miss the most.”

“Oh yeah, those were magical,” Jason replies, pausing momentarily, staring outside and disappearing in his memories.

“It is not the same when it’s only the five of us,” I shrug, then immediately regret it when he replies.

“My mom hasn’t shifted since my father died.”

Oh, Goddess, he hasn’t run along any werewolf, and I’m bitching about my family being not enough.

“Do you have siblings?” I ask hopefully, as strings constrict my heart, aching for him.

“No,” he replies solemnly, and I keep my ‘Oh’ answer as silently as possible. “In the last couple of years, I shift more and more often. My wolf wants to be out all the time, and it’s getting harder to rein him in. Still, when he is out, he is even more restless,” he explains, and my brows furrow in confusion.

He looks like he doesn’t understand his own wolf, which is new to me. Though thinking about it, my family always explained everything.

‘And I had guidance from your parents’ wolves,’ Bliss chimes in solemnly.

I’ve never appreciated my family as much as I do now. Watching Jason struggling with his wolf, seeing the loneliness in his eyes, churns my insides, and I instantly know I need to do something.

He glances at me for a moment before hardening his features. “Was it a conscious choice to be on the road all the time?” he changes the subject, and I smile at him widely, hoping we think about the same thing.

“Of course, how else could I find my mate?” I ask him back.

His eyebrows fly up high as he glances at me twice. “Really?”

Nope, we were so not thinking about the same thing.

“Yeah, that’s the best part of being a werewolf. Don’t you think? Having a mate.”

“I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it like that.”

“My parents are still so happy together, and they told us so many magical stories about other mates meeting each other or going through challenges to be together.”

“It must’ve been nice to grow up in a big family,” he smiles sadly.

“It was. You should join us for a run,” I look at him excitedly. “Maybe your mom should come too. She might want to shift when she is at a completely different place,” I suggest, but his excitement is far from mine.

“That sounds nice,” he replies, but I feel it is more like courtesy.

I don’t give up, though.

My home is miles away, so that has to be planned in the future, but here, today, we still have a chance.

“So, as you know, all the safe places around, and I haven’t let my wolf out in months.” I look at him expectantly. “How about a run after the concert?”

His face brightens, and I have my answer.