Hey guys - Sorry updates were waaaay off last week. It will likely continue this week too. Lots going on at the day job. But we'll get back to six chapters per week really soon.
Fati left with her parents to head to college today. I haven’t seen her in week. Hadn’t talked to her for weeks before that. It’s been less than a month, but it feels like forever. And now she’s gone. There’s nothing that I can do about it. I’m sitting in my apartment, mindlessly flipping through the channels on the TV that I rarely use. I rarely have the time to watch TV, but now I can’t seem to muster enough energy to do anything else. Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door and I can scent my two best friends. “Go away!” I call out from the couch, knowing that they’ll be able to hear me. “No chance!” Ethan calls back. “You’re not wallowing tonight. We’re going out!” “Fuck that shit!” I call back, but I still push myself up and off the couch. I walk over to the door and unlock it, not even bothering to open the door before I turn back to the couch. They both walk in, Finnegan huffing out a lau
Come on, Fati! We can’t be late for the first day of classes,” Ollie calls to me from the foot of the stairs. I have my door open and thank the Goddess Above that everyone was already up and down at breakfast this morning for the first day of classes frenzy. Angela had told me that as the days wore on and people got more settled in, that wouldn’t be the case anymore. But for now, the school year was new, there were new wolves in the packhouse, and life was bright and shiny. Our wolves wanted to make a good first impression.“Give me five minutes!” I call down to Ollie as I loop a hair tie around my long French braid. I never wear my hair down, usually pulling it into a long ponytail. But, again, since today is the first day of school, I wanted to put in an extra effort. I had done two long French braids down either side of my head and wanted to curl the front pieces that I had pulled out to frame my face. Problem was, I have an impatient wolf at the foot of the stai
“I need a fish special, 86 the pine nuts for allergies!” I call out. “Yes, chef!” is called out by the men on the line. “Go ahead and start course two on table five. Jorge, I need a well done filet. Give me a two minute count to start the rest,” I yell again, turning sticking my hand out to grab the ticket from the waiter that has just walked into the kitchen. “Yes, chef!” echoes through the room as I read through the ticket. “We’ve got a VIP four top walking in on table two. I need an off menu amuse. Two vegans, one nut allergy. VIP prefers earthy, savory foods,” I alert the kitchen. “Yes, chef!” “Hands!” I call, summoning two different servers to take food into the dining room. “Walking tables ten, three, and fifteen.” “Chef, two minute count,” I hear from Jorge. “Heard, Chef. Fire the rest of table 12. And where is my fish for table six? Everything else is dying in the pass,” I a
“It’s been a week, Fati. Are you just going to stare at him or are you going to make a move? He’s your mate. You’ve got to make a move. He’ll want you, it’s just the way that mates work,” Ollie says as she sees me staring at my mate during the break for our class. He laid his head down on his arms about five minutes before the professor called a break for our three hour class and he hasn’t moved since. It doesn’t take werewolf senses to know that he’s sleeping. It also doesn’t take werewolf senses to detect the slight limp in his step or see the bruises on his face. Or the wince when he takes too deep a breath. He’s hurt. I don’t know how he got hurt or who did it. What I do know is that my wolf is rising inside of me, begging to know who hurt my mate so that I can end their miserable life. “I find out his name. Did I tell you that?” I murmur to Ollie. “No,” they say, turning fully to face me. Their eyes
The hour and half that are left in this fucking class seem to fucking crawl by. Normally, I really like this class, but this girl, Fatima, has my head all tangled up in knots. I have to keep myself from turning around to look at her the entire time the professor is walking us through the lab. As it is, I’m already trying to stalk her on social media. But in the surprise of the century, there doesn’t seem to be anything about her. She has no electronic footprint that I can find. Not even a profile that says that it’s set to private. I mean, it’s fucking baffling that someone our age group doesn’t have a digital footprint. Even I have a damn Linked-In page, but there’s nothing for her. How is that possible? But I do find something for the person beside her. Ollie Green, non-binary graphic design major from Arkansas who just moved here. Ollie apparently loves to photo-document everything that ever happens to them and I find that they have a sc
“I’m telling you, Ollie, you don’t have to wear a dress. The website says that you could wear a pantsuit. You have those,” I promise them. For one, I’m telling the truth. The website does say that formal attire for women, and I’m going with biological sense, is EITHER a dress or a pant suit. But also, we have to get on the road! We have about an hour to get to our reservation and I want to see Kurt. He and I have been texting back and forth ever since our coffee date yesterday. He confirmed that he works at a restaurant as an expeditor, which is something that I have to ask him about. I have no idea what an expeditor is, but love listening to him describe the adrenaline ridden nights in the kitchen at the most sought-after place in Houston. I mean, the only reason that I got the table that I did is because I’m a luna and we hold power, even in the human world.He tells me that he’s a boxer and just had his biggest fight ever, which is why he had the lim
The second that I heard Ollie’s laugh and turned to see Fati and her friends, this intense longing flowed through me. It was the hardest thing for me to do not to go over to her right then. Our little coffee date, if it could be called a date, had gone really well. I felt like I had gotten to know a good bit about Fati, her family, and her personality. She doesn’t strike me as one of those girls who ae putting on a show for a guy that she likes. In all the videos that she showed me of her nephews, her friends, and her family, she has the same infectious personality, the same kindhearted humor, and the same quick wit. She’s completely real and I really like that about her. The only regret that I have is that I didn’t kiss her. It had just seemed too soon. I’d just met the girl and we weren’t on an official date. I didn’t know if I should have. Seeing her here at Marsaf’s, I can’t let her leave without stealing some time alone with
We finish eating around 9:00, so I headed back to the house to change. I didn’t think it would be a good idea to head to the gym in the outfit that I had gone to Marsaf’s in. Still, I wanted to look nice, so I put on a wine colored lace bodysuit and a pair of jeans with a pair of heels. I had texted Kurt when we were about five minutes out from the restaurant and he was waiting for us outside. Now I’m sitting ringside, right by his corner. I’d met Kurt’s trainers Mickey and Russo, along with another guy in his crew, Jimmy. They were all in the back, making sure that Kurt was dressed and warmed up for the fight. When Jimmy escorted me to my seat, there was already a fight in progress. “Lightweight fight. Our guy is there in the blue and yellow. Corey. This fight should be wrapping up in the next ten minutes and then they’ll be a break for them to clean up before Kurt’s Heavyweight fight. You want a beer or something?”“Got soda? Coke or Peps