Tanya’s POV
I can’t help the scream that escapes me, immediately I veer away from the outstretched claw. My hands fumble and slam against the car door, before finally slipping hold of the handle. I roughly tumble out of the car, pushing myself desperately to my feet and breaking into a sprint for my life.
The rain rushes down in thunderous rage as I run blindly, screaming out for help. But no one hears me, not with the wind’s terrible screams, and not when the earth ruptures with ground shaking thunder.
With no wolf form, with no wolf speed, and with the fetus barely protected by my weak body, I fail to maintain much distance. I look back to see white glowing eyes in the dark, and a large menacing shadow resembling the form of a massive wolf can be seen through the slits of downpour.
No….
I look ahead pushing to run faster, but I can hear his ominous paws galloping after me, each contact they make with th
Caspian’s POVDylan and I move like shadows through the forestry in our wolf forms. Dylan’s wolf is a mocha brown, whilst the fur on my paws showcases a lighter, ivory hue. We follow our normal routine route that has been allocated for centuries for patrol units. The path we take is a thin line that penetrates through the grass, weighed down into a muddy consistency by the numerous paw prints that litter it day in and day out.Despite being Alpha, I’m not beyond the usual tasks that are given to my wolves. Moreover, I find a sense of ease whilst conducting patrols. We belong to the forest. We were born here, and we shall die here, and I find no greater comfort than being in my wolf form, surrounded by it all. My eyes are accustomed to the vibrancy of the greenery, nose inhaling soft scents of the florals, leading the way with ease.That is until I hear a loud splash sounding from the west that halts my movements, ears swiveling to pinp
Tanya’s POVI’m taken to the hospital by customers who are more than happy to drive me there, and I’m thankful for their generosity. The pain is immense, and I find myself cradling my tummy to cope with the on sudden rush. Every unexpected jolt of the car strikes pain through my body, and I desperately try not to cry.Finally, we make it. The customers help keep me on my feet as we make our way in. My clear baby bump makes it evident to the staff of my situation. I’m placed on the gurney and rolled into one of the rooms before they move me onto a bed. Despite its softness, it doesn’t ease the awful cramps that start escalating in pressure.The hospital staff all look like worker bees, rushing to and from the room to prepare for the birth. One carries towels, another soft blankets. One adjusts the position of my bed so my back is slightly raised, whilst another attaches me to fluids, injecting the top of my wrist with a need
Tanya’s POVThe afternoon sun casts its waning rays of light through my shop window, declaring it the typical time for Mr. Barlow to waltz into my store in clear dire need of some company. And in my store, he is. Despite his elderly appearance and stumpy stature, one could tell he was quite the looker when he’d been in his prime.He has a smooth bald head, and broad shoulders, although his age means the loss in some strength, it’s apparent he has once been very muscular. If it is not for his terrible drinking habits, maybe he’d still look the same, and smell less of age-old whiskey which tends to put people off. If not for that, Mr. Barlow would’ve had more people to talk to other than just me.For he is rather charming, in a childish, temperamental, playful sort of way, always cracking a joke or two, before going off on long rambles about stories he deems ever so interesting. Course I never mind, I enjoy the company, and a
Tanya’s POVSome part of me is hoping for a different reaction from my past love, maybe some form of acknowledgment that would change everything. But hope is often a feeble thing, that can be harshly shattered by the realities of life. This cruel reality crushes my expectations and longing, as Marco completely blanks me. His glares daggers into my heart as he turns away and moves into the next door house.Not wanting my daughter to see my misplaced feelings, I take Claire’s hand and head into our home. I prep dinner, and we eat whilst she tells me all about her day. I always love listening to her stories of what she got up to. And despite the lingering desire to speak to the man next door, I remain enthusiastic and present in our conversations.Later however, as I’m washing the dishes, I hear a loud sound coming from Marco’s house. Recalling Lisa’s request, my eyes widen with realization. With Claire, we rush out the door a
Tanya’s POVI’m extremely flustered and embarrassed by my daughter’s words, as I glance between her and Marco also appears slightly taken back. Finally, I kneel to my daughter so I’m at her eye level. “Honey, why do you keep calling Marco daddy?”Almost as if convinced by her conviction, she responds with little hesitation, looking at me with pure childish innocence. “Because he has the same blue eyes as me!” she squeaks, playing with her fingers as if she’s suddenly nervous from all attention paid towards her by the both of us.Nevertheless, she continues to explain. “And I like Marco, I want him to be my daddy. I feel it in my heart,” she places a hand on her chest, before turning round to face Marco, and running into his arms without question, looking up into his eyes. “And I’m very cute, and Marco is very handsome, so you must be my daddy.”She is utterly ador
Marco’s POVIt warms my heart to see the relief in Claire’s eyes as she realizes it is me. She eagerly takes my hand as I take her away from her bullies and safeguard her from them. However, I can’t help but stiffen as the child for the third time this week encompasses me in a hug. Her dainty arms doing their best to wrap around my understandably larger body.I always have a particular softness towards children. To adults, I have no desire to showcase any form of remorse or whittle down my brashness. But with children… there is something about their innocence that captures my attention.My negative outlook on people’s intentions never befalls on children. Even with their temper tantrums, they have a level of purity with regards to the world around them. You could never blame them simply because they don’t understand enough about life. They are always good intentioned, or at least oblivious to the consequences of thei
Tanya’s POVThe midday autumn sun rests high in the sky, soothed by a breeze that remains calm and gentle towards all the outdoor stalls and laid out food for the family day event. It begins with various activities for all the families to participate in. Claire skips along in front of us, and I’m comforted by the high spirits that my daughter finds herself in. And I’m ever grateful to Marco for making that happen.He walks calmly beside me. And whilst I wouldn’t blame him for feeling out of place surrounded by all the parents and children. He blends in perfectly. Conversations with other parents seem like a breeze for him, as he plays the role of a wonderful dad, fully in love with his daughter. I can’t help but admire him quietly whilst he speaks or smiles at my daughter’s playful antics. If only this was real life…Nevertheless, I savor the moment and enjoy the day. We get up to loads of things. First, we sto
Tanya’s POVI race towards the two, my hands pressing firmly against Raphael’s chest, shoving him away from Mr. Barlow. Of course, my hand meets with the bully’s rippled chest, and I can barely push him. He chuckles at my feeble attempt, only stepping back with a malicious grin.Raphael isn’t as tall as Marco, but he is still a decent height for a male. And he didn’t get classed as a bully for no reason. Although muscular, there is no smooth elegance or refinement to his physic. Raphael is a rough piece of work, as if he has been carved with a blunt knife. Curated with jagged edges, a shaggy unkempt beard and buzz cut. He is like a rusty machete, worn, weathered, and ragged, but still dangerous enough to cut you and give you a nasty infection.“Stop! Stop this nonsense!” I yell, decently fearful, as I feel a close friendship with Mr. Barlow. Even with his annoying old man tendencies. I don’t want to see hi