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27. A "date" with the supernatural
Last Updated:
2024-10-29 19:42:56
Lena WindsorThank you for reading! From now I'll be posting on a Monday, Wednesday, and Friday schedule. DISCLAIMER: ALTHOUGH WATERLOO IS A REAL CITY IN ONTARIO, THIS IS A FICTIONAL VERSION OF IT, SO NONE OF THOSE PLACES IN THE TOUR ARE BASED ON REALITY.
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HOLDEN’S POINT OF VIEW We then reach a park, and my feet don’t need a guide to take me towards an ancient tree that stands out from the rest. It calls to me. The Eternal Tree. It's huge, with branches stretching out like wise old arms, and its leaves are perpetually green. As we approach it, a warm, calming energy envelopes us, and I take a glance at Willow. She looks so… Peaceful. “Do you feel that?” she asks, her voice soft, almost reverent. “It’s like… Like the tree is alive. More than just a plant. It’s… sentient.” “It’s a portal, Willow,” I smile. “A crossing between worlds. It leads to the fae realm.” I turn my eyes to my mate, taking in her true self. She’s like an open book, with welcoming arms. She’s never been anything but honest and open with me, inviting me in, no pretenses, just pure, inviting honesty. The need to share, to unload, takes over me and, for once, I just give in. “You know,” I start, the words tumbling out in a rush. “All my life, I’ve tried to under
The Way You Taste 29. The morning after
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The Way You Taste 30. Crossroads
HOLDEN’S POINT OF VIEW “HOLDENNNN!” Father’s voice invades my head, piercing the bubble of post-sex bliss I was in. Shit. “My office, now,” he says in a homicidal tone. Realization washes over me, and a pit forms in my stomach, like a black hole consuming all the thrill I was reveling in just seconds ago. What in the heat of the moment felt so natural, so right, now mixes with the sharp pang of embarrassment and shame. I curse my recklessness, my impulsivity. As I enter Father’s office, I’m greeted by the wall lined with portraits of previous Alphas and their Lunas, going all the way back to the 1800s. Their silent eyes judge me, like they’re Harry Potter portraits about to chew me off. Under their stares, I feel vulnerable, exposed. It’s suffocating. Right now, I feel like I’m four inches tall. Father looks beyond pissed. Before I can find the right words to explain myself, he speaks. “Holden,” his voice is laced with a mix of disappointment and anger, “having sex in public
The Way You Taste 31. Forging strategies
HOLDEN’S POINT OF VIEW The air in the Council Room is humming with tension, each face portraying a mix of worry and determination. It’s like stepping into a hive of focused bees, everyone buzzing with energy and eager to do their job. Father stands at the head of the table, and I take my seat next to him, drawing from his calm energy to steady my own buzzing nerves. “Thank you all for being here,” Father begins, his voice a pillar of strength, “our efforts over the past few days have been monumental. But we’re still far from solving this crisis. We need to brainstorm and piece together every bit of information we have. Holden, would you begin?” Taking a deep breath, I stand up. Hendrix nudges me gently with resolve. “The other Temple Packs haven’t seen any similar incidents,” I say, infusing my voice with as much determination as I can. The Temple packs, of course, are the ones informally referred to as the “Temple Dynasty”: Ghost Pack, Gathering Storm Pack, Shallow Creek Pack, an
The Way You Taste 32. Testing love
WILLOW’S POINT OF VIEW My heart thuds loudly in my chest as I enter the lab, eager to spend time with my mate, to get closer to him. The first thing to hit me is the sterility of it all. How it’s cold, white, clean, clinical. So different from the warmth and intimacy Holden and I shared just last night. But it’s not the lab itself that hits me like a gut punch, that makes my legs freeze and my blood boil. No, it’s the tall, lean form of a blonde man in a white lab coat. Dr. Tremblay, it has to be. Holden’s boss and research advisor. It seems like we’re back to Science Holden today. Not only does he want to keep his distance from me, but he also wants to put a barrier between us. He’s doing exactly what he said he wouldn’t. Yesterday was only a dream, and now I’m back to the sad reality. I feel betrayed. “Willow,” Holden is at my side in an instant, his words rushing out of him with a hint of nervousness. “Look, I should’ve given you a heads up, but Dr. Tremblay is here to help
The Way You Taste 33. Shadows of legacy
WILLOW’S POINT OF VIEW I stand in formation with my fellow Cadets in the meeting hall, eyes glued on the stage. There are unfamiliar faces among the ranked wolves, but I don’t make any effort to guess who they are. All I can see is Holden. We were told he wasn’t going to be involved in training this year because of his studies. Yet, here he is, on stage, his eyes scanning the crowd, embodying the strength and poise of a future Alpha. He steps forward, clearing his throat. “Welcome, everyone,” he says, his voice clear and steady. “Today, we take the next step in your training. You know about the attack on the Shell and the threat it could mean for our pack. So, we’re going to up our game. I’ve reached out to our allies and asked them to help us. Today, we have the honor of being joined by very special guests. Gathering Storm Pack has sent us an elite squad of 15 warriors to share their wisdom, with their captain, Seth. And Silver Hill Pack has sent Finn, their Gamma, and their futur
The Way You Taste 34. Gathering storm
WILLOW’S POINT OF VIEW The stables hum with the usual noise and chatter, as hay and horses give off their familiar scents – scents I’ve come to love. Today, I’m on brushing duty. There’s something oddly soothing about the brush moving rhythmically against a horse’s coat, seeing how shiny it gets, it’s like a living masterpiece of muscle and power. Harper is still a bitch, but I’ve noticed some subtle changes. Our recent cohort training sections have been pushing us together. The exercises require us to rely on each other for defense and attack, to protect, and to be vulnerable. And then there’s the strategy sessions, where we sit together, maps and plans spread out in front of us. Our voices overlapping and our ideas clashing and merging… We’re learning to value each other’s perspectives, to listen and compromise, to create plans that use both our collective and individual strengths. Somewhere along the line, the shaky foundation of trust was built, and it’s kinda awesome. The pas
The Way You Taste 35. Crisis council
HOLDEN’S POINT OF VIEW Stepping into the Council Room, I can instantly feel the tension hanging heavy in the air. The room’s usually calm and orderly, soothing Father’s OCD. But today, it’s buzzing with uncertainty and worry. Beta Ricardo, Gamma Linda, Delta Andrew, and Elder Johnson sit around the massive wooden table, each with their tablets in hand and their heads leaned in, exchanging urgent whispers. Father is pacing near the fireplace, the flames flickering in his eyes. When Willow walks in behind me, surprise sweeps across the room. Eyebrows shoot up, and I can almost hear the wheels turning in everyone’s heads. "I see your mate is joining us," Father remarks, stopping in his tracks. His eyes move between Willow and me. There’s a faint smile on his lips, but I can sense the underlying scrutiny. He's weighing, assessing, observing how we handle the situation. Alice spins around, her eyes flashing with hurt and anger. “Everyone knew?” Her voice is barely a whisper, but it cut
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The Way You Taste 36. On the brink of battle
HOLDEN’S POINT OF VIEW The second I'm out of the Council Room and in the Pack House bunker, fear and anxiety hit me head-on. There is no shame in admitting it, I’d be mad if I weren’t afraid in this situation. Ghost Pack is home to 1,533 werewolves, and this bunker is equipped to house 200 people, with enough food and water to keep them for an entire year. It’s the center of a spider web of underground tunnels leading to several other bunkers, which also have enough room, water, and food. All in all, we can keep our 1,533 pack members and an extra 200 safe and fed should we need to. The ghost of the Siege of Sandy Hills looms large over us, so we’ve prepared for it in the last 60 years. We’re ready to stand natural disasters, bombs, nuclear attacks, radiation, and biological weapons. Not that we ever thought anything other than rogue attacks and wars with other packs would ever happen, but hey, better safe than sorry. Right now, the atrium is alive with urgent activity. It’s like a
The Way You Taste 35. Crisis council
HOLDEN’S POINT OF VIEW Stepping into the Council Room, I can instantly feel the tension hanging heavy in the air. The room’s usually calm and orderly, soothing Father’s OCD. But today, it’s buzzing with uncertainty and worry. Beta Ricardo, Gamma Linda, Delta Andrew, and Elder Johnson sit around the massive wooden table, each with their tablets in hand and their heads leaned in, exchanging urgent whispers. Father is pacing near the fireplace, the flames flickering in his eyes. When Willow walks in behind me, surprise sweeps across the room. Eyebrows shoot up, and I can almost hear the wheels turning in everyone’s heads. "I see your mate is joining us," Father remarks, stopping in his tracks. His eyes move between Willow and me. There’s a faint smile on his lips, but I can sense the underlying scrutiny. He's weighing, assessing, observing how we handle the situation. Alice spins around, her eyes flashing with hurt and anger. “Everyone knew?” Her voice is barely a whisper, but it cut
The Way You Taste 34. Gathering storm
WILLOW’S POINT OF VIEW The stables hum with the usual noise and chatter, as hay and horses give off their familiar scents – scents I’ve come to love. Today, I’m on brushing duty. There’s something oddly soothing about the brush moving rhythmically against a horse’s coat, seeing how shiny it gets, it’s like a living masterpiece of muscle and power. Harper is still a bitch, but I’ve noticed some subtle changes. Our recent cohort training sections have been pushing us together. The exercises require us to rely on each other for defense and attack, to protect, and to be vulnerable. And then there’s the strategy sessions, where we sit together, maps and plans spread out in front of us. Our voices overlapping and our ideas clashing and merging… We’re learning to value each other’s perspectives, to listen and compromise, to create plans that use both our collective and individual strengths. Somewhere along the line, the shaky foundation of trust was built, and it’s kinda awesome. The pas
The Way You Taste 33. Shadows of legacy
WILLOW’S POINT OF VIEW I stand in formation with my fellow Cadets in the meeting hall, eyes glued on the stage. There are unfamiliar faces among the ranked wolves, but I don’t make any effort to guess who they are. All I can see is Holden. We were told he wasn’t going to be involved in training this year because of his studies. Yet, here he is, on stage, his eyes scanning the crowd, embodying the strength and poise of a future Alpha. He steps forward, clearing his throat. “Welcome, everyone,” he says, his voice clear and steady. “Today, we take the next step in your training. You know about the attack on the Shell and the threat it could mean for our pack. So, we’re going to up our game. I’ve reached out to our allies and asked them to help us. Today, we have the honor of being joined by very special guests. Gathering Storm Pack has sent us an elite squad of 15 warriors to share their wisdom, with their captain, Seth. And Silver Hill Pack has sent Finn, their Gamma, and their futur
The Way You Taste 32. Testing love
WILLOW’S POINT OF VIEW My heart thuds loudly in my chest as I enter the lab, eager to spend time with my mate, to get closer to him. The first thing to hit me is the sterility of it all. How it’s cold, white, clean, clinical. So different from the warmth and intimacy Holden and I shared just last night. But it’s not the lab itself that hits me like a gut punch, that makes my legs freeze and my blood boil. No, it’s the tall, lean form of a blonde man in a white lab coat. Dr. Tremblay, it has to be. Holden’s boss and research advisor. It seems like we’re back to Science Holden today. Not only does he want to keep his distance from me, but he also wants to put a barrier between us. He’s doing exactly what he said he wouldn’t. Yesterday was only a dream, and now I’m back to the sad reality. I feel betrayed. “Willow,” Holden is at my side in an instant, his words rushing out of him with a hint of nervousness. “Look, I should’ve given you a heads up, but Dr. Tremblay is here to help
The Way You Taste 31. Forging strategies
HOLDEN’S POINT OF VIEW The air in the Council Room is humming with tension, each face portraying a mix of worry and determination. It’s like stepping into a hive of focused bees, everyone buzzing with energy and eager to do their job. Father stands at the head of the table, and I take my seat next to him, drawing from his calm energy to steady my own buzzing nerves. “Thank you all for being here,” Father begins, his voice a pillar of strength, “our efforts over the past few days have been monumental. But we’re still far from solving this crisis. We need to brainstorm and piece together every bit of information we have. Holden, would you begin?” Taking a deep breath, I stand up. Hendrix nudges me gently with resolve. “The other Temple Packs haven’t seen any similar incidents,” I say, infusing my voice with as much determination as I can. The Temple packs, of course, are the ones informally referred to as the “Temple Dynasty”: Ghost Pack, Gathering Storm Pack, Shallow Creek Pack, an
The Way You Taste 30. Crossroads
HOLDEN’S POINT OF VIEW “HOLDENNNN!” Father’s voice invades my head, piercing the bubble of post-sex bliss I was in. Shit. “My office, now,” he says in a homicidal tone. Realization washes over me, and a pit forms in my stomach, like a black hole consuming all the thrill I was reveling in just seconds ago. What in the heat of the moment felt so natural, so right, now mixes with the sharp pang of embarrassment and shame. I curse my recklessness, my impulsivity. As I enter Father’s office, I’m greeted by the wall lined with portraits of previous Alphas and their Lunas, going all the way back to the 1800s. Their silent eyes judge me, like they’re Harry Potter portraits about to chew me off. Under their stares, I feel vulnerable, exposed. It’s suffocating. Right now, I feel like I’m four inches tall. Father looks beyond pissed. Before I can find the right words to explain myself, he speaks. “Holden,” his voice is laced with a mix of disappointment and anger, “having sex in public
The Way You Taste 29. The morning after
WILLOW’S POINT OF VIEW I wake up to a sweet ache in my body, reminding me of how hard my mate fucked me last night, marking every part of me as his. Well, except for ACTUALLY marking me. But I’m more convinced than ever that we’re on the right path to fully becoming mates, to fully accepting our bond—step by uncertain step. Last night, everything changed. I could see it in the way Holden acted throughout our date, I could hear it in his words as he opened up to me about things I’m not sure he had even admitted to himself, and I could feel it in the way we fucked passionately. “It was a wild ride, huh?” Jamie nudges me cheekily. “Oh, I hope I get to ride that cock soon…” I muse. As I go through my morning routine, I look back on everything that happened with a smile on my lips. Every gesture, every kiss, is an echo of our deepened connection. Yet, amidst all the warm fuzzy feelings, a shadow of doubt creeps in. I have to hold on to the belief that things changed so much that not
The Way You Taste 28. Leap of faith
HOLDEN’S POINT OF VIEW We then reach a park, and my feet don’t need a guide to take me towards an ancient tree that stands out from the rest. It calls to me. The Eternal Tree. It's huge, with branches stretching out like wise old arms, and its leaves are perpetually green. As we approach it, a warm, calming energy envelopes us, and I take a glance at Willow. She looks so… Peaceful. “Do you feel that?” she asks, her voice soft, almost reverent. “It’s like… Like the tree is alive. More than just a plant. It’s… sentient.” “It’s a portal, Willow,” I smile. “A crossing between worlds. It leads to the fae realm.” I turn my eyes to my mate, taking in her true self. She’s like an open book, with welcoming arms. She’s never been anything but honest and open with me, inviting me in, no pretenses, just pure, inviting honesty. The need to share, to unload, takes over me and, for once, I just give in. “You know,” I start, the words tumbling out in a rush. “All my life, I’ve tried to under
