Spirit Tales (The Millennium Wolves AU)
Chapter Twenty-Nine

"I remember that day as if it was yesterday. I sat with Charlotte at our usual place at lunch when our orphanage caretaker came in with a small boy about our age behind her, holding the hand of some man. Charlotte and I were mesmerized by his beauty - even at six we new to appreciate prettiness, and the boy was so pretty, with his blinding smile, that it almost ached looking at him.

“The caretaker said something to the man who held the boy’s hand, and after a few murmured words, he left, leaving the kid with the caretaker. Everyone looked at him as though he was an alien when the caretaker put him with Charlotte and me. We couldn’t look away, and to my utter surprise, he couldn’t stop looking at me.

“‘I’m Brock,’ he’d said with such a beautiful wide smile, I remember feeling that I wanted to come closer, to try and make some of his warmth attach itself to me. ‘What is your name?’”

“‘Rosa,’ I answered him. At that time, I still called myself Rosa, short for the mouthful Rosangela.

“Charlotte introduced herself as well, trying to grab Brock’s attention, but he didn’t even look at her. He talked only to me, and I was so pleased, so stunned he was noticing me like that. Charlotte was extremely jealous - I don’t know if it was me or him she was jealous of at that time, because I’d been her best and only friend, like she’d been mine, and then Brock came and everything changed.

“Brock and I became good friends. Charlotte tagged along with us because she had no one else, and I tried to include her, and Brock, too. But it was never like it should’ve been. By the age of ten, Charlotte distanced herself from us and remained only my friend. At eleven, I realized she’d fallen in love with Brock - if you could call it love at such a young age - and she was so jealous of me, she couldn’t stand the sight of me.

“One day, in the middle of Spring, the orphanage staff took the kids to a trip in the mountains - they did it once a year thanks to a foundation that gathered donations for it. Even though they loved us as much as they could, the orphanage staff couldn’t buy us prettier clothes, and even the food money was always short. Brock promised me he would take me far away from there one day, and that he will marry me and we’ll be together ‘forever and ever’. He said we’ll take Charlotte with us, and we’ll live together.

“But at the trip, everything changed. It started out fine - we saw nice landscapes, ate field food, slept in tents, but by its end, we had to split into a few cars, because the bus that should’ve taken us back chose to not show up. Brock and I were the last ones to leave - Charlotte had left earlier - and the man who was supposed to drive us was our history teacher. Mr. Griffer.

“Mr. Griffer drove in the deserted road, while Brock and I sat in the backseat and chatted like we used to do, all the while holding hands. But something went wrong in the drive. Mr. Griffer lost control of the car, and I don’t know exactly how it happened, but the car was suddenly upside down.

“I would’ve been crushed under the car had Brock not took of my safety belt and pushed me outside the window at the last minute. I broke my left hand and lay on my front near the car that started catching fire. Brock was still under the car, stuck in his own seatbelt, being slowly crushed under the metal. I screamed and yelled to him, stretching out my right hand, trying to reach him, telling him to take my hand so I could drag him out, but he only smiled a broken smile to me, his green eyes staring at me in pain, and said, ‘I love you, Rosa.’

“Afterwards, I couldn’t do a thing. The car blew up, burning Mr. Griffer and Brock. And I stayed there, lying on the ground, staring in horror at the sight before me. After that day, I didn’t want to be called Rosa anymore - only Angela. After that day, I started slitting the wrists in my right hand, the hand that could get to Brock’s bloody hand. After that day, I wasn’t the same person anymore.

“Charlotte accused me over and over again that it was my fault Brock died. She loved him so much, maybe even more than I loved him, and after she finally came to terms with hi, the accusations stopped, and we continued being ‘friends’ because we had no one else. It was sad, tough, and painful talking about this subject, so avoided it. When she left for college and dragged me with her, I didn’t resist. I had no power to resist. Because after what happened with Brock, she’d never treated me the same way.”

I didn’t look at Fred when I finished. I was busy letting my tears drop down my cheeks. His big hand cupped my face, wiping away the tears, and he put my head on his shoulder, hugging me. I didn’t resist his touch and hugged him back, wrapping my arms - the bandaged one too - around his neck. He tightened me to him so strongly I thought he was going to hurt me, but I didn’t care. I needed this. I needed him.

“I’m so sorry for you, Angel,” he said quietly, “I’m so very sorry you had to go through such thing.”

I couldn’t respond. A lump stuck itself in my throat.

“And yet, I don’t want you to ever cut yourself again,” he said, hugging me even more tightly. “I don’t allow you to hurt yourself like this again.”

“It’s a replacement for guilt,” I blurted out. “Instead of accusing myself and knowing I couldn’t commit suicide, I blame the hand that wasn’t long enough to reach him.”

“You can’t do a thing,” he said quietly, “Brock chose to save you. He did something very noble and brave. You don’t need to suffer for a decision he made.”

“I can’t, Fred,” I muttered, “I can’t go on feeling like I could’ve done more, that I could’ve really saved him.”

He sighed, leaning back so he could capture my gaze in his. “When I was five,” he said with surprising honesty, “I was told I was born to be the Alpha of the Millennium. I didn’t take the news well - I lost my marbles and rebelled, acting like a rogue wolf. One day, when I was nine, I hurt my mother unintentionally so hard until she miscarried the baby she had in her womb.”

My eyes widened in horror and sorrow when I saw the mixed feelings on Fred’s face. “After I did it, my father bit my head off, and my mother has never been the same. I blamed myself for it so much so that my emotions closed off ever since. I stopped feeling. When I was eleven, I already had full control over my emotions, and I didn’t express them at all. I was collected, cold, and in training with Kasimir, the previous Alpha, I was focused and ready, always alert, always unfeeling. At twenty seven, when my body froze its growth because immortality kicked in, I was already prepared to be the Alpha. And in the year 2000 the title went to me and I said goodbye to my family. My father didn’t regret my leaving, and my mother didn’t even notice I left. They couldn’t stand the sight of me after what had happened. They weren’t proud of me being the Alpha of the Millennium. All they wanted was for me to leave so I couldn’t hurt them anymore.”

The pain in his eyes made me hug him again. “It wasn’t your fault,” I whispered, “you had zero control - most wolves don’t control themselves when they’re little, I know. If you lost control when you were with your mother… I’m sure you didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“Still,” he said, “you’re blaming yourself for something you also had not control over. I stopped blaming myself at one point, even though I still felt the guilt, and I’m still pretty upset about it sometimes, about causing the little sister I could have to die, but I learned to deal with it throughout the forty years I’ve been living. You must understand - I had no choice back then. You didn’t have any choice, too. You were hurt yourself. You couldn’t just pick up Brock from beneath that car. It was probably his fate to stay there.”

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, and leaned back from Fred. “I’m not good at expressing what I feel, Angela,” he said quietly, and I opened my eyes to his burning into me. “I got used to block my emotions. If I again give you the cold shoulder, know that it’s not because I want to, but because old habits die hard.”

I put a hand on his face without even noticing. The skin of his face fascinated me, and my hand went on its own accord to his hair, pushing it back. He closed his eyes, leaning against my touch, and I felt my heart skipping a beat. I bit my lip, wanting him to touch me. To kiss me. To do anything to me.

When he opened his eyes, I noticed his nostrils flared. I blushed - werewolves could smell what humans felt, and he probably scented my, um, arousal. Then an inscrutable look spread over his face and he drew closer to me, our breaths mixing. I was gasping, while my skin prickled with anticipating, with the need for him to press his lips against mine. My lashes turned heavy, and from lidded eyes I saw his lips coming closer and closer. My heart was beating so quickly, so strong, it was a wonder I didn’t have a cardiac arrest.

Fred put his hand over my nape and I shivered. His other hand wrapped itself around my waist and I felt myself melting. I was so hot suddenly, and I wanted him to just take me there and then. I didn’t even care I was a virgin. I just needed.

And then something amazing happened. His lips touched mine, and I felt everything around me blowing up. I longed for him so much I couldn’t think straight - and so I decided not to think. I closed my eyes, tightening myself to him with such force, he let out a low growl that made his chest rumble and caused me to shudder. His hands tensed around me grabbing me even closer, and his lips crashed against mine, his tongue dancing with mine. I let out a soft moan, grabbing the collar of his shirt in desperation, wanting him to kiss me more and more, craving for him to touch me in places that had never been touched before by a man.

He lifted me up so I was on his lap, my legs wrapped around him. His hands travelled over my back, my hair, my neck, while I put mine into his soft, thick hair. He went on kissin me, and I instinctively knew he was feeling the same frustration that I did. Another embarrassing moan left my mouth, and I found myself beginning moving on top of him. He growled again deep in his chest, setting my skin on fire. His hands found their way to my behinds, cupping them as though his life depended on it, and his lips wandered from my lips to my jaw, then my neck, soft and burning. I cocked my head aside, giving him all the space in the world for him to do whatever he wanted to my throat, and I closed my eyes as his lips reached the point that connected the neck to the shoulder. There he closed his teeth over my skin and sucked. I moaned again, feeling so much lust I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fred... “ I murmured with yet another moan, and he growled, his hands caging me even more strongly. Another shudder cascaded through my body when he lifted his lips from my skin toward my mouth. Then he kissed me again with such a stormy passion, every cell in my body melted into goo. All the while I continued moving on top of him, feeling something in my stomach, something that wanted to get out, find satisfaction, but not finding it.

His hands held my waist and he lifted me up and sat me down on top of the hardness in his jeans. The sudden unfamiliar pressure against my intimate part, caused by his jean-clad erection, made everything my tighten. I lost control completely while this thing in my stomach went out almost in a roar, making me see sparks in my eyes and a wetness between my thighs.

When I opened my eyes, I saw Fred looking at me with an inexplicable look, and he pulled me to him in a tight hug.

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