All generic disclaimers apply.

All opinions are my fiance's; I have none. (In my opinion.)

Desolate, Plenary

Chapter Three: The Mate Thing

I didn't care if I looked like a blubbering lunatic. I didn't care if snot was running down my nose and down into my mouth as I ate deplorably in front of two dignified looking couple. I didn't care if I was shoving handful after handful of the most delicious, orgasmic, chocolate-chip cookies on this face of the planet down my aching sore throat. And I just didn't care anymore as I explained the day's events to the two dignified couple that didn't seemed the least bit grossed out by my grotesque mannerisms. Maybe they expected it after I was done explaining and was trying my best, and failing miserably, to sniff the remaining snot up my nose as I continued to devour my snack in an attempt to look somewhat presentable as both gave me overly obvious sympathetic expressions, watching me make a fool of myself.

Fuck the Alpha. Yeah, I said it. Fuck him and his over glorified ego. He had me dragged away none to gracefully from my parents. I couldn't see my parents, specially my mother. He wouldn't allow it. So I had no idea how they were doing, and when I asked the two people assigned to watch me, they told me that they were okay. The Alpha wouldn't allow any harm to come to them. At least, not now since I was in the picture.

I had no choice but to trust them. I just had to be patient…

As I continued to cry, though, I realized that to them, I'd be forever known as the snot cookie monster from hell…

Stop crying… I berated myself.

I cried harder.

Stop it now you pathetic excuse of a human… God. The werewolves were already rubbing off on me.

Still, the tears came, never ceasing in their tirade of showcasing my recent emotional abuse to the two people who cared—or was forced—to listen to my squabble. I gave them credit on their ability to withstand my tyrant of tears and slurred speech, not once appearing annoyed by it. Of course, through the tears I wouldn't have noticed in the first place if they were irked by my behavior, and at that moment in my detrimental and highly embarrassing time, I didn't give a damn. Something I would surely, and inequitably, regret in the very, very immediate future.

"You poor thing," the woman spoke from across from me, her voice dripping with nauseating sympathy. "Leave it to Guvriel to scare the girl to death…" She reached forward across the table, her hand grasping my own limb that wasn't shoveling cookies down my throat distastefully, squeezing it gently. Her smile was sweet, serene, and that was when I realized something when I looked into her warm, hazel eyes.

She's human!

"You're human!" I exclaimed rather boorishly, causing my cheeks to go aflame when I'd realized I'd pointed my finger that was previously engaged in shoving food down my throat at them and crumbs of uneaten and eaten cookie flew into their awaiting faces.

Both blinked at me, none showing any emotion whatsoever. Then, suddenly, and completely the opposite of what I was expecting, the other one—which was a guy, and by the looks of it, a were-male—just broke out in a hardy laugh, shaking the table ever so slightly and causing me to take the plate of cookies under my arm for shelter in fear they would fall to the ground. I couldn't save all of them if the end result occurred; can only save so many with the five second rule and my mouth wasn't quite big enough to scarf them down fast enough…to my displeasure.

I eyed him suspiciously, contemplating if it was the right moment to let go of the cookies from my sheltered arm and continue indulging myself, or to further the protection in case the man began another inadvertent bellow of a laugh. His face wrinkled up into an amused earnest of hilarity at my sudden exclamation, his hand reached up to whip away fake tears.

"I think I like her, Marie," he spoke with much hearty amusement that his words actually sounded sincere. "You don't find humans like her nowadays."

"Don't be foolish, of course you do," the human girl I knew to associate with the name of "Marie", chastised with a warm, yet unmistakably palpable flirtatious smile it even made me gage on how obvious it was. "They're not just so…barefaced about it like our friend is here."

"So, what you're saying is that our newly acquired friend," he stressed the word like it was something foreign to him before continuing on in there somewhat obvious, yet enduring game, "Is a barefaced innocent girl that probably has no idea what just happened to her? Perhaps too innocent for her own good or liking?"

I didn't know if I should have taken offense to his statement of what he thought of myself or not, but the pulsating need to just keep my mouth shut this time around had me clamping my lips sealed for the time being. No need in boasting my thoughts again when it only brought about predicaments I wasn't quite ready for yet, like the one I'd found myself in now.

With much concentration, and dubiety, I unwrapped my arm around the platter of cookies and looked incuriously to the right of me, trying my best to ignore the two sitting across from me. Why? Well, interacting with my captors only seemed to go in a direction I didn't much care for, or fancy.

"Why so quiet all of the sudden, darling?" the were-male drawled, sounding curious in my sudden state of impetuous muteness. "Not even a minute ago you wouldn't shut up. Come on, don't be like that. We don't bite…at least I don't anymo…umphf!"

I queerly looked over, noticing the were-male holding his side in obvious concocted pain, Marie giving him a reprimanded look, her eyes narrowing in the slightest degree. I watched the little exchange, a sudden thought occurring to me.

"Are you two," I began hesitantly, my voice wavering in contemplation. "Boyfriend and girlfriend?" I paused, assessing their looks and coming to the conclusion they were probably in their late thirties. "Or married?" I added quickly, finding it more probable considering their age. My earlier resolve to stay quiet so I wouldn't get into any more trouble flew out the window along with whatever degree of smarts I had left in my now empty, deficient mind.

Bipolar much? But considering what I was forced to go through for whatever reason I couldn't even fathom at the moment, I was pretty sure I had some leeway on the sanity issue. At least, when it came to a mental breakdown. Come on, I'd just witnessed my mother basically getting tortured for a reason yet to be explained, I had a lot of leeway to work with.

Both looked at one another, the earlier berating gone almost like it didn't even occur. Both turned their heads simultaneously, a smile gracing their lips. "We are mated," the were-male began, amusement evident in his voice. "And we are married…why do you ask? Is it that obvious? I told you Marie," he turned to look at his…mate…with faked accusation, mirth dancing in his eyes, "You need to stop eye raping me every chance we get, you're disturbing the guests."

The 'we' part didn't go unnoticed.

"I'm disturbing the guests!?" Marie returned with her own fake shock, her eyebrows scrunched up in playful determination. "At least I have a face to look at, unlike you whose face closely resembles an unhygienic pirate! Now that's disturbing, honey!"

"Hey now! If I remember correctly, missy, you like my pirate-y look," his began to run his hand over his short, barely longer than a fourth of an inch, dark brown beard as frivolity and pleasure of playfulness danced throughout his chocolate eyes. "Especially when we role-play in bed, dearie." He winked, sending my face to go aflame at his bold statement of facts that should only be kept between the two.

My cheeks weren't the only ones to pique a reddish hue as Marie lips thinned to an irritated line, her eyes constricted to slits in what I hoped was false anger.

I bit my lips, sucking them into my mouth as I waited for the onslaught of insults…or whatever…to be thrown at the un-expecting were-male who didn't have a clue at the precipice he precariously found himself. Instead, there was an uncomfortable silence.

Then I saw her, none to discreetly, jab his ribcage underneath the table, earning yet another fabricated howl of pain as he held his side in concocted discomfort. I cracked a smile, finding their playful banter too amusing not to fissure a small smile of approbation at their light-hearted show of sincere, yet gamesome affection.

"Glad someone is finding amusement in my torture," the were-man grunted, somehow even faking his voice to sound battered and hurt. But even though his act was quite convincing and could easily fool anyone, I could literally see the mirth dancing in his rich blue eyes.

"Oh, stop if Phil, you're going to make her think I'm actually hurting you, you big lug." Even though she chastised him, she, too, was smiling at his display of indignant playfulness.

"But you are!" he continued, feigned hurt in his overly zealous voice. "Can't you see you're killing me here?! I'm pretty sure you broke some ribs, baby! You can't deny the facts! Their indisputable! I mean look at me, can't you see the horrendous pain you've inflicted on my poor, fragile body?" His eyes sought out mine, locking in undeniable frivolity. "You saw her abuse me, right? Don't go taking her side jus' 'cause you two are of the same race and sex. I need some justice here! Where's Judge Judy when you need her? Where can I find a lawyer sleeping with said judge?"

I burst out in a fit of laughter when Marie smacked the were-male, Phil, on the back of his head, successfully producing a thwacking sound the seemed to resound in the overly large kitchen.

"You're an idiot."

"An idiot that made her laugh? Come on, give me some credit here!"

I didn't know if the two normally acted this way or if they were putting on a show for my own benefit. Whatever the case may have been, I was grateful toward them. I couldn't deny that Phil most likely smelt, or maybe even somehow felt, my uneasiness around him, and given my current predicament, hopefully he understood. Which, given the act he so valuably improvised for my favor alone, my only guess would be he understood enough to have a sudden need to make amends.

And that little act, in a way, warmed my heart into favorable content. I felt more at ease with his childish antics.

After some more playful banter, the two settled down after another joyfully dramatic dispute between the two on my sudden empty plate of cookies and whose fault it was on not refilling it before it suddenly was depleted of its awesome chocolatyness of orgasmic goodness.

After receiving another refill of my feel-good cookies, I was asked an unexpected questions from Phil: "Since we're waiting on crab-ass to get here and most likely deflate your now calm and content self in his superficial act of dominance and control over his now…rattled feelings," he stressed the word as if he wanted to say something more…inappropriate, "About a human mate he had no intentions, or desire, of ever meeting—do you have any questions?"

"Crab-ass?" I couldn't help but ask even though I knew very well who he was referring to.

"Guvriel. My Alpha and your mate"—He opened his mouth to say more, but a little nudge from Marie made him stop. When they locked eyes she simply shook her head.

"Gay-vre-el…" I slowly pronounced his name, it alone sending cold shivers down my spine and a tingling discomfort throughout my body that wasn't entirely unpleasant, to my displeasure. Then another thought struck me, something I'd been wondering since I'd first arrived. "What does this mate thing mean? Someone told me earlier that once I meet the Alpha, any unmated wolf would not be allowed around me…?" I trailed off, finding my words to be a little stupid sounding.

"Ah, that…no one told you?"


"Not even your father, mother…someone from school?"

I pulled my bottom lip into my mouth, nibbling on it when the thought struck me that what I just asked must have been some known common knowledge, even to use humans. I shook my head 'no' again, opening my mouth and freeing my lip to explain, "Um…my father and mother weren't very fond of…you guys, and, um…didn't really say anything…positive…or anything about your life style to me. And the school I went to…didn't allow werewolf people to…um…attend…" I felt a little foolish explaining that to them.

"Ah, I see. Well, that most certainly explains a lot." He gave me a thoughtful look, making me feel a little more at ease, and not so stupid for asking a question that was obviously a 'supposed' known question.

"Damn, anti-Lycan cultists. It's been twenty damn years since we've came out in the open about our existence and yet they still believe we're an enigma to this world and shouldn't be trusted. What bullshit that is, we hadn't had one incident with the humans whatsoever and most still think we're an abomination. A fucking disease, or whatever half-assed bullshit they came up with now."

Marie reached over and grabbed his fisted hand closest to her, squeezing it like she squeezed mine earlier for comfort. Seemed Phil had a sore spot on this particular subject.

I bit my bottom lip again, finding his words to be a little unsettling.

"If they even knew what else lied just outside their little bubble of feigned security," he continued, "they'd probably be more adamant with our existence. At least we can't just kill things with our minds alone…" He trailed off, grumbling things I didn't quite understand.

"Other…things…exist?" I couldn't help but ask, finding it extremely curious and a little endearing.

"Hell yeah!" He looked at me with the most serious look he'd given me all night. "Warlocks and witches, demons, those damn fairies―even though you'll never see any of those nasty creatures in your lifetime, they're going extinct."

"What about vampires?"

"If you're thinking about those damn Twilight movies, then no, not in that sense. There are only four major supernatural badass groups to consider: Werewolves, Demons, Warlocks and Witches, and Fairies"―he counted with his fingers, pointing four up when he was finished―"In the subcategories, like for instance a demon, you'll find something similar to a vampire in their many different bloodlines," Phil sort of, in a way, drawled out like he'd explained this a million times before. "But they're all essentially the same when it comes to personalities. Never trust a demon, understand?"

I nodded my head.

"I want to hear you say that you understand."

"Understood." Jeesh, he sounded like a teacher.


"Do werewolves have a subcategory?" I would have to admit that this was all very interesting, and new, to me. My father and mother never talked about these things to me, or anyone at school. I was told time and time again that it was not appropriate to queer over such trivial topics.

"Yes and no. We don't have different bloodlines or different…breeds? I guess you could say. But we all have different…abilities…" He finished slowly, watching my expression very closely.

"Abilities?" I asked in complete bewilderment, my brow furrowing in utter confusion. "What type of abilities?"

"Well, why don't I show you?" A small plausible smile curved on his lips, reaching out his hand in an open invitation to touch him freely. To grasp his hand in finding the unknown.

That was something I knew with all honesty, I was scared of. I was―frightened of grasping his inviting hand and finding something I would soon later regret. My emotions were in complete turmoil, coiling inside of me and screaming at me to run, to break down and cry my fears away. The light-heartedness from early quickly vanished and I was reminded again of the harsh reality I have precariously found myself forcefully immersed in.

For all I knew, my mother and father were in pain, locked away in some cell while I was here laughing and actively participating in a game of make believe magic and thoughtlessness.

But in all honesty to myself, I had no choice but to reach toward that unknown and possess it inside my naked hand―only to jerk it back in complete surprise at how scorching hot his hand was that it actually burnt mine in return. I cradled my hand against my front and looked down at the now pinkish skin, it felt like I touched a hot kettle. The burning sensation ceased, leaving me in a state of confusion, something I felt like was stacking up and straining inside of me, forcing me in wanting to seek answers to questions that didn't have answers to.

"What the freakin' flip flappen of hell!" I proclaimed, turning away from him in shunted accusation, still cradling my not-so injured hand.

"Sorry," he said rather sheepishly, running his hand through the curls on the back of his head. "Didn't mean to scare ya there. But, that's what I was talking about when I was referring to certain abilities. Or affinities if ya wanted to get technical."

I watched him with wide uncertainty, processing his words in the maze of my now confused cranium. "And," I began carefully, testing my words slowly, just in case I was wrong. "You have an affinity for…fire?"

He smiled broadly at my timid question. "Smart girl. Yes. My affinity is fire."

I nodded slowly, the wheels in my head turning and processing…then turning again. "And Guvriel," I said his name with absolute disdain, but found his name rolling off my tongue easier than what I would like to admit to myself. "Has an affinity too?" Phil nodded his head, but didn't give me any clarification on what his super special ability was.

I thought back to when I first met Guvriel, or more accurately, had felt when present in the same room…and had broke my mother's arms…purposefully.


"Bingo!" Phil confirmed with a broad smile. "Or lightening, or static, or whatever else you can associate with electricity."

"H-how? Why? How much?...I mean…" I took in a slow, deliberate breath to calm my quacking, overly beating heart, and to actually try and make sense in my next attempt to speak. "How far does his control go? Can he zap people to, like, a crisp?"

Phil's lips were spread to a thin line, his eyes searching mine for something I didn't quite understand. Slowly, he let out a breath I hadn't realize he was holding and opened his mouth to speak, "That's something you should ask him yourself. I'm sure he'll be more than happy to explain things, among others," he grumbled the last part out, "To you."

I frowned, my eyebrows scrunching up in disappointment, my hands growing clammy from the sheer thought of talking to Guvriel. What happens if he licks me again?! The image of his tongue poking from his moist lips and licking the tears away off my cheeks brought on another wave of anxiety, my hands shacking from the abrupt distress just from only thinking about it.

I heard Marie sigh then felt a warmth envelope my hand that was clenching the side of the table from distress. Looking over to her, she smiled gently, her hand squeezing mine in a kind comfort, the second time that night before letting go. "It's not as bad as you are probably thinking," she spoke gently, reassuringly. "Guvriel will never harm you, not even unintentionally. It's impossible for a Lycan to harm his mate."

My eyes shifted back down to our joined hands, my brows furrowing again from the confusion of that one, small word. "Mate. Why is that so important? I...don't understand."

Her own eyes moved to Phil, probably wanting him to explain something only a werewolf was capable of feeling, apparently.

Phil sighed heavily, racking his hand through his hair as a small grunt of displeasure grumbled from his closed throat. "How should I explain this," he began thickly, "A mate is…to a Lycan―" he stopped, paused as uncertainty flashed through his blue eyes, his hand now rubbing his beard on his jaw. Closing his eyes, he began again, "Guvriel should be the one to explain this, but I'm more than one-hundred percent sure he'll just blow you off until you forget about it completely. Which won't happen, I'm sure." He opened his eyes to give me a pointed look, another gesture that I didn't understand. "It's like…marriage between a human and a Lycan, but deeper, with more meaning than a normal proposal."

My eyes grew wide, disquiet alarm overcoming my senses once again. "M-marriage?!"

"Yes...No!...Sort of?" Even Phil didn't even know, making me grow even more anxious. Again, he was scratching the back of his head in sheepish distress.

Marie, on the other hand, rolled her eyes. "You're just making it worse." She looked at me, still smiling calmly in probable hope of sedating my inner turmoil. "A mate to a Lycan is like a soulmate to us humans. Once a Lycan finds his soulmate, it's almost like love at first sight, him wanting to do everything in his power to please his mate and bring…happiness to her in any way possible." She was no longer looking at me, but was staring at Phil, clear admiration and love shining in her eyes…making me want to gage from the clear potency of it.

"Is there any way out of it?" I asked cautiously, slowly.

"No," Phil finally added, more confidence in his voice than ever before. "Once a Lycan finds his mate, he will never find another."

"Oh. So I'm stuck with Guvriel then?"


"Can't I just leave him?"



I had more questions. Many more questions. But I couldn't bring myself to ask them. Why? Because a sudden flare of anger had overtaken me, making my hands shake again, but from the antagonism of whatever pure hatred I suddenly felt instead of the indeterminate trepidation from before.

After everything that had happened, after everything that I had to endure, this was what fate wanted from me: To be stuck with a guy that purposely did all those things to my family, to my mother…and to me? No…I just could accept that.

Clenching my hands into fists, I looked back up with the ferocity of my own anger clear, not caring of what I was about to say. And definitely not caring for the consequences.

"I will never become the mate―soulmate―whatever, to that…werewolf"―Phil suddenly stood up sharply, but I didn't care at the moment, not regarding the reasoning why he suddenly rouse from his sitting position when I was only getting started―"After everything he did…after everything my family had to endure because of him…Well, he can go die off in a ditch for all I care. There's no way in hell I'll ever become his mate…thing…ever!" I huffed deeply, crossing my arms over my chest with brash determination, ignoring the stiffness of my two hosts. "I'm not some toy to be used and abused," I groused with finality.

When they didn't say anything at first, I finally noticed their line of vision wasn't directed toward me, but behind me. Both were stiff, stiffer than what looked remotely healthy, and had similar expression of rigid apprehension.

That was when I felt it, and all my bravo and determination suddenly dissipated into the crackling, suffocating air that suddenly surrounded my being. And it was all too familiar, sending a jolt of fear through my system. Rigidly, I turned in my seat, placing the palm of my hand on the back and turning in slow, discouraged torment to a certain werewolf I knew, but hoped, wasn't standing right behind me― and heard everything I just had to say in the moment of hated bravado.

I was instantly meet with cold, stormy eyes, looking down on me with a furrowed brow of belittled ridicule. When I locked eyes with his, his instantly narrowed with a demeaning intent flashing through them, sending me cowering back in my seat. His eyes shifted, ever so slightly, looking up at Phil with a look I couldn't quite discern. That is until Phil suddenly walked around the table and past me without so much as a glance, heading toward the kitchen door and leaving me alone with the Alpha that I just disrespected, none too discreetly, under his own roof. Marie followed after, sending me a sympathetic look before leaving.

I watched as the double doors closed behind her, too afraid to look up at my tormenters eyes that were most likely still blazing with a hidden storm I didn't want to get stuck in just yet.

For what felt like an eternity, he just stood there, most likely waiting for me to look back up at him again and give me the full burning force of his belittling thoughts he had coursing through his oversized cranium. But I didn't dare, and he knew that soon enough when he took a step toward me. In an instant I didn't even know I was capable of, I stood up from my seat, making my chair screech against the flooring with jaw tightening, cringe worthy squeakiness, and ran behind the table, effectively cowering behind it and putting an object between us for an extra measure.

I was looking down at my hands that were leaning against the table, shaking furiously with fear, and keeping his body in sight in case he tried to move around the table to get to me. Tears began to flow down my cheeks again, adding onto the ones caked on from before, making me mentally curse myself for my childish antics.

After a second of assessing me, he made an attempt to move around the table, but I followed his movement, circling the table clockwise. Then, a growl reverberated from his chest, his hand making contact with the wooden table, gripping it in his hand and tightening his hold till it was splintering in his grasp, and flung it off to the side with little to no effort on his part, sending my cookies flying with it, regrettably.

I gasped loudly, finding my eyes moving to his and instantly regretting it when I was met with a burning scowl that made me retreat backwards and hit the fridge with my shaking back, conclusively stopping me in my cowering retreat.

In three long strides he was standing in front of me, his hands shooting out to slam against the fridge on either side of my head, making me flinch from the loud noise, closing my eyes for the inevitable.

Marie lied to me. Didn't she say that a werewolf couldn't harm his mate? No, no, no, no, no! This was not happening to me! Maybe if I ignore it, it will all go away, like a dream. Just ignore him…ignore. Keep on ignoring!

Hot breath fanned my forehead, but nothing more happened as we stood there, close enough to where our bodies almost touched. I opened my eyes, and in greeting was meet with a naked, firm, muscular, accomplished and straining chest breathing heavily into my face, almost close enough to where his nipples could poke my eye out if he so choose to move any closer. Yeah. He was that tall and that close. I felt like a child this close to him. I was a child. Werewolves lived longer than humans, almost three times the normal lifespan of ours, so he could be in his two-hundredth year while I'm just shy of nineteen.

He shifted, his body moving over mine, then something soft touched my forehead in a gentle caress, making heat bloom over my cheeks in bafflement. His lips moved back and forth on my forehead, then something akin to a growl flared from his chest, forcing my body to tense from his unknown reaction. Why was he growling? Growling wasn't normal! Growling was bad! Very bad!

"P-please," I whispered hoarsely, barely audible but I knew his keen sense of hearing picked it up like I was whispering straight into his ear. He stopped all movement, even his breathing ceased in scorching my forehead. "I didn't mean what…what I…I was angry…confused…please…I didn't…misunderstanding…" Well, like that made any sense.

Something rumbled from his chest, hot breath once again fanning my forehead in short bursts. It took me more than a second to realize he was doing something close to a chuckle. His body hunched over, my breath caught in my throat in a choked strangle as his own cheek was pressed against mine, his lips caressing my ear.

"You meant every word," his deep, accented voice, rushed into my ear, fondling it with its smooth baritone likeliness, forcing my legs to lose their balance and topple forward onto his hard, awaiting chest. I stood there, frozen, my heart beating faster than ever before as his arms encircled around me, holding me closer than what was deemed appropriate. His right hand traced up my back, slowly, methodically, until it reached the base of my neck, and in one jerk of a movement, my head was forced to look up, his hand grasping the back of my skull in a vice like grip, making me unable to move it in any way possible to relieve the strain he was forcing upon me.

He looked down at me, his eyes drawn into a lazy stare, his face expressionless, but I couldn't help but get that same feeling like before that he was staring down at me with disdained belittlement, like I was scum in his eyes and nothing more. He moved his head forward, connecting his forehead to mine, the back of my skull now pressed firmly to the fridge behind, his hand cupping the side of my neck and his thump pressed up underneath my jaw for added support.

"You don't have a choice in the matter," he continued, his breath rushing over my lips and into my slightly parted mouth, somehow slipping past my clenched teeth. "Your soul," he mocked, obviously referring to my soulmate response. "And body," he added in more sensually, his eyes darkening dangerously. "Belong to me."

And just like that, my world came crashing down at the feet of the one thing I was taught to fear for most of my childhood life.

(Author's Note: I'm so, so, so, so, so sorry this took forever. I rewrote this chapter about five times, none turning out the way I wanted it to because I just HATE having to explain information in a boring lecture way. Ugh! And I also lied, I promised to respond to your reviews, but I didn't. I failed miserably and I'm sorry! I know I probably lost a lot of readers with this long wait, but I didn't want to release a chapter without it being a little to my liking. I hate how I wrote the beginning, but it did get better after about one in a half pages…

But, HOLY COW, nineteen reviews on the last chapter?! How? Why? When did that happen? I'll have to say, this probably would have taken longer to come out if I didn't take a look at the reviews yesterday and was like HOLY MACARONI, nineteen reviews on chapter two and thirteen on chapter one?! You guys are the best, I just hope this one will still get a good response, especially since nothing really happens in it besides information that needed to be explained somehow. I promise there will not be another chapter like this, other information that has to be explained will happen in short, taking up not even half a page in word document before getting back to the juicy stuff…like next chapter that I already started on.

Also, to answer a question in one of the reviews: Yes, hero boy from the last two chapters will be a main character and someone…'important?' to Quinn.

I really would like to hear what you guys think, even though I know this chapter was pretty blah, but it also introduces two characters that will have an impact on Quinn later.

And one last thing. I like to read character development, so if you don't like Quinn right now, especially with her little speech towards the end, just remember I'm a fan of character development and…yeah. Even though she won't change a lot per say, just she matures…and stuff… And then there's the issue of the werewolf having magical powers? I wouldn't go so far as say magical, but there is a good reasoning behind their abilities, so i didn't just put it in there randomly, if anyone thought that.

Review! Love to know what you guys think. Hopefully this chapter is still written okay and not too choppy like the beginning kind of was… Now on to editing the last two chapters! Oh, and I also started another story that's a little more simpler than this one but will have some juicy, sexy moments coming in the near future, if you want to check it out. It's called Pure and Simple.)