“Are you sure? It’s cold.”
“Get your jacket, then.” She gives me a look that says don’t question her again, so I don’t. Mom’s the alpha of our den, and I learned when I was young not to question her when she gives me that look.
We walk slowly, keeping to the sidewalk and taking the loop around the block that avoids any hills. Mom threads her arm through mine, and we walk in silence, looking up at the full moon.
“Do you feel it, Vera?”
“Feel what, Mom?” I have a hunch I know where this conversation is going, and I hope I’m wrong. It’s not the first time she’s tried to convince me my first shift could still come. That I’m more than merely human.
“You know. The magic. Can you feel it yet?”
I sigh. “You know I can’t.”
She squeezes my arm. “Your scent has changed, though. Can’t you tell?”
I shake my head sadly. It’s just wishful thinking. I gave up on that long ago. “Can we talk about something else?”
She grunts. “You don’t believe me, but I’m telling you it’s coming. I just want you to be ready.”
Lucky it’s dark so she doesn’t notice when I roll my eyes. “Mom, nothing is coming. I’m probably just due to start my period.”
She huffs. “I can smell the difference between a menstrual cycle and the change, Vera. I might be sick, but my nose still works perfectly well.”
“OK, Mom.” I can sense her getting wound up, and we’re still a block away from home. Her hand trembles on my arm, and I hold her tighter. “OK. It’s coming. I’ll be ready.”
“Good. You remember what I told you about your first heat.”
“I remember.” God, don’t let her start on that again.
“Hmm. Just make sure you find a good alpha to see you through it. Someone who will treat you right. You know I could probably line up someo—”
“Mom!”
“OK, I’m just saying. You can let me know if you change your mind.”
We walk on and I don’t argue, but I don’t say anything more. She’s always been so set on me being a shifter that, growing up, I felt like a disappointment. A failure. I used to wish I could be what she wanted me to be, but not anymore.
I don’t let myself think like that any longer.
Going away to college has been good for me. It taught me to accept myself for what I am. Living among humans was refreshing. No one was thinking about all the things I couldn’t do, only the things I could. I was always good at school. I worked hard to be. At college my grades are good, and I’m on the athletics team and I’m good at that too. I guess my shifter blood is good for something because I might not be able to shift, but I’m faster and stronger than the other humans.
We make it back to the house, and Mom is clearly tired. Her tremors are back. She pushed herself the way she always does. I help her onto the lift so she can go upstairs and Dad can help her shower, and I shut myself in my own room, feeling strange. What made her bring all that stuff up again tonight?
It’s been years since she’s done that. So much so I’ve let my guard down recently.
I have been feeling odd lately, though. I think of the way I noticed Bastien’s scent today and the way I felt after he touched me.
Right. He grabbed me. Held me. No wonder my hormones were on overdrive. It’s just my stupid childhood crush making me think stupid thoughts yet again.
When I tuck myself under the covers, it takes me a long time to fall asleep. I’m restless, sweaty.
Some time in the night I throw the covers off, half aware of sliding a hand down my belly and beneath my underwear. My clit is swollen and throbbing, and I choke back a gasp as my fingertips make contact. My hips buck.
I rub myself frantically, smothering the sound with my pillow. All the time it’s Bastien’s wide, rare smile I see and his hands I picture on my body. The way they swallowed me up, enveloping me. I think he could circle my whole waist with his two hands. He could throw me around, lift me up, and position me any way he liked.
Real Bas would never do that, though. I can tell he’d be too damn scared of hurting me, like everyone always is.
So why do I picture him holding me down and filling me completely with my face pressed into the mattress while I cum and cum?
