“Thank you for your help, Sheriff,” I say as Caleb and I walk out of his office. “I’m glad that I could be of some help, Mr. Walker. And again, I’m sorry for your loss,” the sheriff says. I nod to him and follow Caleb out of the station. He hates me. It’s very evident that he does from the way that he snarls or glares at me whenever I leave the room because of Fati. It’s evident in the way that he barely talks to me unless he has to. It’s evident in the hate that seems to roll off of him whenever we’re around each other. And yet, he’s the one that has been helping me out the most. The one that has taken over helping me get my shit together enough so that we can leave for this huge werewolf city. Fucking hell. I’m a god-damned werewolf. How is something like this even fucking possible? What else are they gonna tell me is real? Vampires? Ogres? Fairies? How could she do thi
I’m in shock that Fatima just rejected Kurt. So much so, that I don’t react when he falls to the ground, curling in on himself as the pain rips through him. So much so, that I don’t react to the pain that etches itself on her face. So much so, that I don’t react to her words. “When he’s ready to accept the rejection, let me know.” It’s not until Kurt makes this animalistic keening sound, that of a beast that is mortally wounded, that I break out of the trance that seems to have taken hold of me. Immediately, I’m on my knees, using my healing magick to take away some of his physical ache. Though that’s not what’s causing him pain. It’s that his soul is literally being ripped apart, the section that fit perfectly with Fatima slashed open and fraying. That’s something that only two beings in this world can fix: Fatima by taking back her rejection and Selene by remolding his soul to fit with another she-wolf. I don’t realize how badly
It’s been hours since Fatima rejected me. Hours since I found out what it would really mean to complete the rejection. Hours since Caleb ran out of the house, pissed that I would ask to be turned back into a human. And yet, I still have no answer for Fatima. Meredith told me that the longer we allowed this half rejection, the more it would hurt the both of us. Even now, I’m already feeling an ache in my chest that’s worse than it was before I came out into the yard. There is a great training area in the back of the house. A covered area as big as a two-car garage, there are weights, medicine balls, jump ropes, and a heavy bag. It’s of little surprise what I decide to go for. Falling into the familiar routine of warming up before getting into the actual heavy work of my drills and my workout. It feels good to move my muscles, feeling like I haven’t used them in weeks instead of a matter of two days. As I work through my exercises,
I don’t even think. The first words out of my mouth are “Do it.” Josefina gives me a sad smile before bowing her head and the whole world goes black.--- When I wake up, I’m in an apartment that I don’t know. The room is small and obviously old, but it’s furnished with things that I probably picked out. I mean it looks like my taste in stuff. But where the fuck am I? Suddenly, I hear what woke me up again. A pounding on the door to the room. And then I hear Mickey’s voice, “Kid! You gotta wake up. We’ve got your therapy appointment in an hour.” Therapy appointment? “I’m up, Mick!” I call, throwing the blankets off of me. “About fucking time,” he calls through the door. Then he just barges in. “Mick! What the fuck are you doing, man?! You can’t just come in here!” I’m not screaming at him, but it’s a near thing. He looks at me like I’m insane. “Well, how the fuck else are you gon
I still don’t know what to say to Mickey about Fatima. I’ve just finished my session with Clarence, which by the way was the hardest workout that I’ve ever done in my life. I’m glad that we just do it down in the gym downstairs, because I can just have Mickey roll my wheelchair into the showers and clean up in there. I insisted on doing it by myself, which is apparently the first time that I’ve done this. In fact, Russo, Jimmy, Mickey, and Clarence are all surprised by my attitude. According to them, I’ve been a whiney little shit who couldn’t get up the gumption to do a damn thing for myself. Well, Clarence put it in a much nicer way, saying that I have been depressed since the accident and haven’t been able to wrap my head around everything that’s been going on and learn how to care for myself in a whole new way. Russo said that I was a moping little pissant for the past several months and he was glad that I finally got my head out of my ass e
I take the ramp up to the front door of the building, the movements a lot easier than it used to be. Over the past several months, I’ve regained putting much all of the muscle mass that I lost in my upper body. My legs…well, they’re a bit of a different story. They don’t look like the twigs they did when I first woke up here anymore, but they definitely don’t match what my upper body looks like. It’s a long, slow process, but it’s better than what it had been. I’ve got a long road ahead of me, but it’s coming along and I’m happy so far with the progress that I’ve made. Rolling up to the building, I hit the button showing the picture of the guy in the wheelchair to open the door. Of course, at that moment a gust of wind whips up and snatches the paper out of my grip that has the information about my class on it. “Motherfucker,” I mutter. Of course it’s flying away down the fucking stairs. Maybe I can find the room on my o
It’s been six weeks since I finally saw Fatima again. And we’re back together. That day did indeed end with her riding the fuck out of me, though not in a closet. We managed to hold off until we got back to her house. It was all I could do not to tell her that I love her when we were fucking, but I managed to hold it back. She’s amazing. Her mind is sharp and she’s got kick ass ideas for our project that Professor Jennings is extremely exited to see come to fruition. She’s been to some of my therapy sessions and is even helping me with some of my exercises in exchange for me teaching her some boxing techniques. Though after seeing her fight the others on the day that she rejected me, I can see that she’s holding back her speed and strength. With Fati’s help, I’m able to move around the apartment with the aid of forearm crutches, something that I hadn’t thought I’d be able to do until the end of summer. But I want to do this for her. I want
I couldn’t get out of the house fast enough. Unfortunately, the swiftness of my departure was impeded by my ability to walk. I had to go back into Fati’s room to get my shirt, shoes, and bag. And then I had to get down the stairs. That’s what finally broke Javi and Fati apart, hearing my crutches on the stairs. “Shit,” Fati says, eyes going wide as she realizes what has happened and that I’m a human who isn’t supposed to understand. If only it were that simple and I could be angry with her. Instead, I’m angry with myself. I’m the one that has basically pushed her into someone else’s arms. This is all my fault. Javi’s eyes squint and his nostrils flare. I know that he’s smelling her scent all over me and her arousal mixed with my scent. It’s not hard to put two and two together. Suddenly, Fati is between me and Javi, though she’s facing him and I know from the tense silence that she’s mindlinking him, lettin