“OH MY GOSH! He came”…
Euphorically, Sierra ran towards Ezekiel’s room.
“Who came?” Maxwell asked from the room, obviously confused.
“Come, I'll tell you”, Sierra said.
Maxwell followed, as Sierra barged into Ezekiel’s room.
“Uhm maybe knock?” Ezekiel said with an irritated look on his face. “Sorry, her expression changed subtly—I was just really excited”, Sierra said.
“Anyway! She lightens up immediately. He found me. It’s strange right? I was literally doing my thing only to be called out, a guest was asking specifically for me. I went out, lo and behold it was Bran!!! I could barely contain my joy. I almost jumped on him. He hug…”
“Hold up a min! Who’s Bran?” A rather left out Maxwell asked. “Well, he’s someone I met at the festive party. We had dinner and talked a lot—
I asked him to find if he ever came to Pasteria, and today he did”.
Sierra replied, clapping and slightly jumping.
“Yeah?” Maxwell replied.
“Yes and he was amazing. He smelled like jelly and sandalwood. He’s perfect, I must say. And no no it’s not because I fancy him, he’s really perfect”. Sierra goes on to explain.
“So reasonable then”, Ezekiel interrupted, smiling softly. “I’m excited for you.
So you're gonna bring him to meet us sometime?” Maxwell asked, teasing Sierra.
“Definitely! But maybe after we go on a proper date and I get to know him better; till then, both of you stay out of my business”. Sierra said laughing and immediately ran before either of her brothers could reply.
Left with Maxwell, Ezekiel said— “she’s so hyper, this house would be lifeless without her charm”. I couldn’t agree more, Maxwell said.
Maxwell was the overprotective sibling among them. He mostly kept to himself, but he was jovial, although not as much as Sierra.
Very disciplined and barely engaged in social interactions. He loved his siblings so much, anyone who overstepped saw the wrong side of him.
He had somewhat of a temper worse than the other, but they didn’t love him any less.
Their bond was against all odds, and never have they broken it; not for any reason.
To him, no man is good enough for his sister; but seeing how happy Sierra was, he decided to give Bran the benefit of doubt.
That night, Sierra didn’t wash the spot on her face Bran held. She could still smell his scent on her cloth and the thought of how he pulled her in for a hug, his smile, his eyes as they gazed at her intentionally and most importantly the kiss on her forehead, sent chills through her body.
It was surreal.
Sierra had dated in the past, but never been intimate with any and none with the aura Bran expelled.
I think I’ve fallen for him… she thought to herself, again smiling and turned over to the other side of her bed.
Her mind continued replaying the moments of the day, till she fell asleep—
Bran held himself from going back to Sierra after he walked off. He didn’t want to leave her.
All he wanted to do was be with her, hold her in his arms; while they moved to the rhythm of his subtle hum.
Bran was restless, he could get Sierra off his mind. She captivated his very essence. He was hot all over just thinking about her.
She looked even more beautiful than the first time they met; although she appeared tired. It didn’t matter at all and for the first time when she walked to meet him, he noticed how well built her body was.
Everything aligned perfectly. It was like nature’s gift to him—at that moment, he felt rather lucky.
At that very moment, Bran decided to make her, his.
I think God created him on the 8th day; is what some might say, when asked to describe Bran.
He’s beautiful! Perfect! A great leader! Cute! Amongst other things.
The way his hair curled on his head was mesmerizing and when the sun shone on it, It glimmered.
His skin was moderately covered in hair; unlike other guys, his was well taken care of and soft to the touch.
His palms were big and warm. The way they covered Sierra's was so masculine; more like protective.
Bran was perfect in every sense of the word. Too perfect, the Creator decided to make him a werewolf to tame him, to show him who’s in charge.
Although perfect, Bran wasn’t out there a lot, quite impatient, but a strong leader of the pack.
It’s no surprise why Sierra walked up to him that day…he was tempting.
Screaming in agony, as every limb in her body is being broken, every muscle torn, tendon stretched to accommodate her changing form, bones elongating forcefully. Sierra watched in fear for her child, who was wrapped just a few steps away. Wind blowing, dead autumn leaves rustling in the dead silence of the night; the moon shining and basking in the silence. What if I hurt my baby? She thought to herself. With the transition intensifying, she breaks free from the aconite soaked chains which subdued her. Realizing what had happened, Sierra tries to move as far away from the child as possible but the pain grows more intense with each breaking limb.“Oh! This is excruciating!” Sierra cries out: in that moment, she wished she was with her family. The transformation is slower because she lost her protective stone that controls her ability to turn on full moons. Now covered in snow-white fur, canines formed, claws clearly visible, the heightened strength and uncontrollable rage in her bright
Bran was from a small pack in Hillport. Mostly known for their volatile nature better than that, they were known as werewolf hunters. When a werewolf goes rogue, his pack were the ones called to bring that wolf to face justice—He was the strongest in the pack, hence their alpha and protector. Although affable, Bran couldn’t be messed with. Since his parents were killed by opposing packs, he had taken up the duty of leading and protecting the pack— following in his parents’ footsteps. No one dared to toil with his pack and didn’t face his wrath.Bran hated to be out there, he didn’t fancy being in the spotlight or talk to people much including the members of his pack almost like he was super shy.Everyone loved and respected him; in addition, he was a provider. It was always good things people had to say about him.At a festive party hosted by the six surrounding towns, packs from all over came together to celebrate the peace and prosperity experienced in the last year. Killings were
“Perhaps, we could hang out some other time?” Bran asked as they stood up to leave.“Uhm yeah sure!” Sierra turned to him as they walked out. “The chocolate pie tasted so good”, Bran said. “Yes sure it did: but mine tasted better and you can’t argue about that”, Sierra said with a sense of satisfaction. “You win! Yours tasted better”, Bran concluded.As they walked back to the party, Sierra held him slightly above the elbow. “I’m so full, I can barely walk”, she said, giggling and using her other hand to rub her stomach.She was tipsy but Bran didn’t notice—“Hey! Are you okay?” Yes yes, she replies still giggling, this time more than before. Bran joined her and over ten minutes, they just went on and on and on.“That wine had alcohol in it. I don’t know who’s more wasted you or me”, Bran said, still laughing uncontrollably— “It has to be you. As for me, I can handle my liquor better than you think” Sierra brags.“You’re so funny! Come on, let's go. I’m sure your family is wondering
“Excuse me! Hi, I’m looking for the girl with the moon tattoo. Do you know where I can find her?” Bran asked the first stranger he met when he got into Pasteria. “The girl with the what?” The lady responded with a perplexed expression.“…with the moon tattoo” he replied.“Uh no sorry I don’t”. She said and immediately walked away. What am I doing here? Bran with a frustrated look on his face asked himself.He asked more people but they didn’t seem to know either. Just before deciding to head back to his home in Hillport, Bran walked a few more minutes and saw a handwritten note on the wall of a building that passed as a spa, it read: the girl with the moon tattoo. Really? This is what she meant? HAHA! He didn’t know when he burst out with laughter. Bran pulled himself together and walked in.“Hello, how can we help you today?” The receptionist asked. “Uh I’m looking for someone; golden brown hair, blue eyes. I think her name is Sierra. Do you know her?”“Yes, give me a min”. She goe
“OH MY GOSH! He came”…Euphorically, Sierra ran towards Ezekiel’s room.“Who came?” Maxwell asked from the room, obviously confused.“Come, I'll tell you”, Sierra said.Maxwell followed, as Sierra barged into Ezekiel’s room.“Uhm maybe knock?” Ezekiel said with an irritated look on his face. “Sorry, her expression changed subtly—I was just really excited”, Sierra said.“Anyway! She lightens up immediately. He found me. It’s strange right? I was literally doing my thing only to be called out, a guest was asking specifically for me. I went out, lo and behold it was Bran!!! I could barely contain my joy. I almost jumped on him. He hug…”“Hold up a min! Who’s Bran?” A rather left out Maxwell asked. “Well, he’s someone I met at the festive party. We had dinner and talked a lot—I asked him to find if he ever came to Pasteria, and today he did”.Sierra replied, clapping and slightly jumping.“Yeah?” Maxwell replied.“Yes and he was amazing. He smelled like jelly and sandalwood. He’s perfect
“Excuse me! Hi, I’m looking for the girl with the moon tattoo. Do you know where I can find her?” Bran asked the first stranger he met when he got into Pasteria. “The girl with the what?” The lady responded with a perplexed expression.“…with the moon tattoo” he replied.“Uh no sorry I don’t”. She said and immediately walked away. What am I doing here? Bran with a frustrated look on his face asked himself.He asked more people but they didn’t seem to know either. Just before deciding to head back to his home in Hillport, Bran walked a few more minutes and saw a handwritten note on the wall of a building that passed as a spa, it read: the girl with the moon tattoo. Really? This is what she meant? HAHA! He didn’t know when he burst out with laughter. Bran pulled himself together and walked in.“Hello, how can we help you today?” The receptionist asked. “Uh I’m looking for someone; golden brown hair, blue eyes. I think her name is Sierra. Do you know her?”“Yes, give me a min”. She goe
“Perhaps, we could hang out some other time?” Bran asked as they stood up to leave.“Uhm yeah sure!” Sierra turned to him as they walked out. “The chocolate pie tasted so good”, Bran said. “Yes sure it did: but mine tasted better and you can’t argue about that”, Sierra said with a sense of satisfaction. “You win! Yours tasted better”, Bran concluded.As they walked back to the party, Sierra held him slightly above the elbow. “I’m so full, I can barely walk”, she said, giggling and using her other hand to rub her stomach.She was tipsy but Bran didn’t notice—“Hey! Are you okay?” Yes yes, she replies still giggling, this time more than before. Bran joined her and over ten minutes, they just went on and on and on.“That wine had alcohol in it. I don’t know who’s more wasted you or me”, Bran said, still laughing uncontrollably— “It has to be you. As for me, I can handle my liquor better than you think” Sierra brags.“You’re so funny! Come on, let's go. I’m sure your family is wondering
Bran was from a small pack in Hillport. Mostly known for their volatile nature better than that, they were known as werewolf hunters. When a werewolf goes rogue, his pack were the ones called to bring that wolf to face justice—He was the strongest in the pack, hence their alpha and protector. Although affable, Bran couldn’t be messed with. Since his parents were killed by opposing packs, he had taken up the duty of leading and protecting the pack— following in his parents’ footsteps. No one dared to toil with his pack and didn’t face his wrath.Bran hated to be out there, he didn’t fancy being in the spotlight or talk to people much including the members of his pack almost like he was super shy.Everyone loved and respected him; in addition, he was a provider. It was always good things people had to say about him.At a festive party hosted by the six surrounding towns, packs from all over came together to celebrate the peace and prosperity experienced in the last year. Killings were
Screaming in agony, as every limb in her body is being broken, every muscle torn, tendon stretched to accommodate her changing form, bones elongating forcefully. Sierra watched in fear for her child, who was wrapped just a few steps away. Wind blowing, dead autumn leaves rustling in the dead silence of the night; the moon shining and basking in the silence. What if I hurt my baby? She thought to herself. With the transition intensifying, she breaks free from the aconite soaked chains which subdued her. Realizing what had happened, Sierra tries to move as far away from the child as possible but the pain grows more intense with each breaking limb.“Oh! This is excruciating!” Sierra cries out: in that moment, she wished she was with her family. The transformation is slower because she lost her protective stone that controls her ability to turn on full moons. Now covered in snow-white fur, canines formed, claws clearly visible, the heightened strength and uncontrollable rage in her bright