The drive is four hours.
I sit in the front, next to Francis, while Lydia chats in the back.
She fills in the silence. Talking about the pack.
“The Alba Rosa pack is the fifth largest pack in North America,” I turn to her, my eyes wide with the news.
I’m Luna of this pack.
She sees my fear and laughs, “Don’t worry, we have a good system set in place, and everything runs smoothly.”
I nod, but the growing uneasiness only rises more and more within my chest as Lydia continues speaking.
“I have a mother, her name is Grace. My father’s name is John- don’t mind him, he can be an ass sometimes. And I have a twin sister named Quinn. We aren’t tight or anything and we can’t read each other’s mind like you would think.”
She continues on and on, talking about how she took beta position from her Uncle, and how Francis chose her himself.
I look at Francis. It’s his story I want to hear about.
“So why do you paint?”
The question startles me, and makes me glance back to Lydia in confusion. No one has ever asked me that question.
“What?”
“Why do you paint?”
I think for a second. “It…it lets me…escape.”
I cringe at the words but Lydia nods, “training does that also.”
I don’t want to agree with her. I’m not sure I agree with her. Training just…didn’t appeal to me. I knew that defense was important. I knew that better than anyone.
But within my pack, the grounds always held a fear for me.
A fear because that place was the start that lead to my brokenness.
“You will train.”
Francis speaks. It’s the first time he’s done so since the start of the drive.
“I will?”
It’s voiced out as a question- not an affirmation.
His blue eyes stare into me as he continues driving, ignoring the road.
“Yes. Within my pack I have a system in place that all wolves are required to undergo two years of training.”
I don’t want to voice out loud how awful that system sounds.
How pressuring and brutal it seems when he says it.
“O…okay….”
The Luna’s words ring within my head.
Adapt.
I can’t fight him.
I know I can’t.
Part of me knows that if he had decided that he didn’t want me to bring my paints.
Then I wouldn’t be bringing my paints.
I wonder briefly if this would still happen if I was more like Lydia. Would he avoid my gaze and avoid speaking, if I was more like the warrior behind me?
If I had, not the small soft edges around my stomach and arms, but instead the lean tone muscles?
If I had clothes that were easy to shift in and out of.
If I had hair that was not styled and pulled back with a sunflower clip.
My armor was now, in this moment,was becoming my weakness.
“You’ll be fine.”
Those words again.
Lydia speaks them periodically. Routinely.
Francis looks at her in the back using his mirror. I don’t dare turn around to see what face she is making back at him.
To see what words she may be mouthing.
Soon the long four hours are up.
And we enter Alba Rosa pack lands.
I can feel the shift.
Feel the presence of power and dominance within the land, oozing out within the very pores of the trees as we drive through the forest.
I gasp, causing Francis to jerk his head towards me and Lydia to bark out, “what is it?”
I cling to my chest, weary of their gaze, “Nothing.”
Lydia sighs, but I feel Francis’s eyes still on me.
I can’t tell them though, that for the first time in years, I felt my wolf nudge her head.
Felt her raise it in curiosity at the sight of the different trees and forest that surrounded us.
These were new woods. Woods that had no past darkness lurking within them.
She didn’t want to come out per say.
It was as if though, for the first time, she noticed that we had moved places. So lost and trapped within the dark- she didn’t even register the events of meeting her mate.
Now the full effect was hitting me.
Star struck.
I was star stuck.
Francis gasped and slowly I felt the truck pull over.
“What the? What’s going on?”
Lydia’s voice rings in the back, but is ignored by Francis as he quickly opens the door and gets out, slamming it behind him.
“What’s going on Layla.”
Lydia’s voice is different. This is the voice of command. The voice holding the power that she knows she has.
“Nothing it’s just…the bond…it just…must have overwhelmed him.”
Lydia’s eyes don’t leave mine as her chocolate brown flashes gold, “Francis doesn’t get overwhelmed.”
I shrink back in my seat.
She glances out, watching him pace back and forth in front of the truck.
“Fix this,” she hisses at me.
I nod numbly, and before I know it, I to am opening the door and closing it- walking silently up to my mate.
“Francis is…everything okay?”
His stops and looks down at me.
I shiver at the blue that is now ringed with gold.
Gold is a hard color to paint.
I don’t want it to be confused with the color yellow.
Gold and yellow are two different colors.
“What happened in there?”
Francis’s question demands an answer.
This is your mate. The thought rings, over and over in my head as I brace myself.
“My wolf…resurfaced. She isn’t very active. She normally keeps to herself but when she saw that we were in new territory, she….,” I shrug, unable to finish the sentence.
“This is how it should have been the first time.”
I look up at Francis in confusion.
“What do you mean?”
“You didn’t feel it.”
I take a step back as he watches me.
“I felt the bond. I felt everything, overwhelm me all at once, but you just stood there. Like you weren’t affected at all.”
I shake my head as it slowly dawns on me.
He takes a step closer, lowering his head, “Do you feel it now?”
His voice is low. Very low. I can’t paint a voice. But if I could. It would be dark. Dark with a hint of light and an edge of red. It would be beautiful.
Slowly, he lifts a hand and trails a lone finger down my arm.
And I feel everything.
I gasp, clinging to the hood of the truck as fire hits my skin.
‘Standing in a burning room.’That’s what I would title this picture as.
Francis’s eyes light up with my sound. “Good,” he mumbles, still trailing his finger up and down. Up and down.
“I… I ….,” I rip away, taking three quick steps back.
His face darkens, eyes going almost black as he takes in my actions.
I’m shivering. Shivering from the contact.
Because it hasn’t occurred to me now.
Stupid stupid stupid.
How could it not have occurred to me.
This is my mate.
Of course he would touch me.
Of course he would want to touch me.
But I never expected feeling this when he did.
Never expected liking it.
But at the same time, his touch makes me shiver.
Shiver in fear.
I don’t want to be touched.
By anyone.
Not even my mate.
“Get in the car.”
His words are like ice as I follow his command.
Lydia is watching me.
Her own eyes narrowed in thought as she assess my movements.
Francis says nothing.
His face is still dark.
Still twisted.
A silence fills the car.
It’s only broken when Francis pulls out a phone to inform the border patrol that we are close to the pack house.
And then I see it.
My heart drops within my chest as I spy what looks like a hundred wolfs- all gathered and mingling around in the front.
Waiting to meet their future Luna.