Chapter 19 - How to get a slap

****James

I opened my eyes slowly to get used to the dawn light and rolled my shoulders, feeling them hurt. The mist had not yet lifted and stretched like long arthritic fingers between the tree trunks, unfurling close to the embers of the fire.

I had slept for a few hours, stopping to relight the fire or to check that Brooke was still covered in her sleeping bag. Her smell was a constant torment and the presence of some wolves in the pack was a floating distraction. They approached, smelling my companion, but limited themselves to wandering along the edge of the valley, driven more than anything by curiosity to understand why their Alpha was sleeping with a human.

On more than one occasion they shouted for me, but soon gave up when they realized that I had no intention of joining them. The temptation was strong, made even stronger by the desire to join the pack and keep up to date with what happened during my absence. However, their curiosity was a good deterrent.

I knew what they were thinking and it was easy to predict their mocking laughter when they realized that I would not own the little human lying next to me. It was against all rational logic for a wolf, in the heat season, to deprive himself of a female's excitement, and I would have felt obliged to inform them of the reason that prevented me from giving in to instinct and tearing her apart, from taking away her clothes.

Brooke would become their leader before winter. It was news that I myself had difficulty digesting. It was unthinkable that they would have been successful at that time, without first having tried in some way to gradually accustom them to the human presence in the pack.

Even today, decades later, they still barely tolerated Malloy's presence and, if they allowed it, it was because they had enough salt in their heads to understand that the sergeant was indispensable to us.

I took a deep breath and clearly distinguished the smell of the earth, the smell of pine needles, resin and dew, the faint smell of bark and the moss that covered it. And then, sometimes, the smell of mushrooms and dead leaves. However, one was missing.

I turned suspiciously to where Brooke was resting and as I imagined I didn't find her. I took off my fur bag and quickly pulled on my combat boots, standing in one fluid motion, immediately and fully awake.

“Brooke?” I called, spinning around.

There was no trace of her, not even a trace of perfume that could tell me where she had gone. I sniffed the air, trying to stay calm. Anything.

“Brooke?” I raised my voice. The echo dispersed without receiving a response.

I put on my jacket and entered the forest, retracing the paths we had taken the previous day during filming. I remembered that there was a crevasse not far away and I retraced my steps in anguish, stopping at the edge of the precipice.

“Brooke?” I growled. I was beside myself with anxiety.

I was about to return to camp to make sure she hadn't returned in the meantime, when in the fog I saw a movement that was fast and at the same time too slow to think that it belonged to an animal. However, a well-trained werewolf was capable of performing the calculated, human-like movements necessary for hunting. Six werewolves buzzed around us all night, drawn to her innocent scent, snorting through their noses with the relentless desire to satisfy their own heat.

My heart skipped a beat, resuming its race with beats so powerful they felt like fists beating against my chest. I ran desperately towards the crouched figure, completely camouflaged in the gray morning fog.

“If you lift a single finger against her, you can consider yourself dead. I growled, modulating my voice like a sheet of ice.”

The dark shape moved slightly behind a large trunk and with one leap I reached him before he even had time to think about heading out into the open. I swung my arms forward and hit the dark shadow, knocking it forward and throwing myself against it to pin it under my weight.

Just then a delicious and familiar scent descended my throat, forcing me to stop for a moment to calm down and check who I had beneath me. If I hadn't been so scared, I would have noticed her scent much sooner and certainly wouldn't have made the naive mistake of attacking without first checking who my prey was.

My little human looked at me with wide eyes. Her lower lip trembled in fear, but she didn't move under any screams. I could barely feel her slender fingers wrapping around my shoulders to try to lift me up. Her legs swayed, inevitably brushing against mine and causing her crotch to rub against my side. They were such a devastating temptation that I didn't even bother to resist.

That woman appealed to my deepest needs, weakening me mercilessly using all my resistance, breaking the oath I had made to myself. I looked at his lips, hungrily. His safety no longer mattered to me, the pack's own fate had lost importance, everything had become insignificant, except that moment and my need.

A gust of wind caught his scent and pushed him away from me, giving me a break from the frenzy and reigniting my anger.

“How did you get the idea to come to the forest alone?” I hissed.

Brooke tried to shake me off, but her slender fingers got caught in the neckline of my sweater. The two chains I wore around her neck began to swing freely and one of them hit her nose.

“Mr. Farrow.” she babbled in search of oxygen. “This is crushing me.”

“I am waiting.” I thundered. I was aware that she had used a very abrupt tone, but if she kept my anger high, she would be able to contain my urgent need to make her mine.

“Your...your eyes…” he choked.

I knew what she was seeing and I did nothing to hide it from her. I brought her here to live and get to know every part of me, and I was that too. The sooner she understood this, the sooner I could bring her into the pack and into my life. Our little “trip out of town” seemed like a good way to bring her closer to me, but I hadn't taken into account her shyness nor her firm intention to keep her distance. Two aspects that were starting to slow down the moment when I should have claimed her as mine a little too much.

“Mr. Farrow, her eyes are surrounded by a red halo.”

“It's anger.” I remained vague. “And do you know how much I feel for you?”

“You were worried for no reason. I couldn't sleep anymore and went looking for branches for the fire.”

“Do you realize how careless that was?”

Her fingers stopped torturing my shirt and my legs became defenseless under the weight of mine, accepting in defeat the way my entire body overtook her.

“Next time I leave, I promise to let you know. And you will no longer have any reason to be afraid because of me.”

“I will have no reason to be afraid because there will be no next time. And I want to make this simple concept clear to you.”

She nodded and discreetly followed the trajectory of my gaze, magnetized against her lips surrounded by a line of slightly darker skin, folded into a pout that almost seemed like an invitation to kiss.

I was at the limit of my endurance. How she couldn't realize the effect she was having on me was a mystery. At that point I relented on all fronts and gave him a warning. Only one.

“Get up or I'll kiss you.” I said harshly.

“Mr. Farrow!” he panted, starting to free himself again. His groin brushed my thigh again and in response I felt his canines lengthen, ready to bite and cut the air.

“Stay quiet. I begged, trying not to make it sound like an order. The last thing I wanted was to transform in front of her without first explaining who I was and how to defend herself against me.”

“What's your problem, Mr. Farrow?” His voice was thin, devoid of any signs of fear. Her reactions were a mirror: as long as she didn't scream in terror, I was sure she hadn't turned me.

However, the limit of my tolerance was there, just one step away, announcing an almost certain victory.

“Stop. Be quiet.” I begged, closing my eyes tightly to deprive myself of her face.

I kept her every little movement under control, covering her entirely with every part of me to prevent her from involuntarily rubbing herself in some attempt to escape. It took me almost a full minute to regain control of myself and I wondered absently if, once again, her naivety had prevented her from understanding that I was there and then from making her mine.

Then I got down on all fours and squeezed her shoulders, forcing her to sit down. Her chest, thankfully hidden by layers upon layers of fabric, hit mine and she was forced to tilt her head back to continue looking into my eyes. In her words I read a silent request for explanations. Too shy to express her thoughts, her vulnerable gaze spoke for her. It deserved some explanation.

“I have every intention of wooing you properly, Brooke.” I began, forcing my tone to be sweet. However, her voice changed instantly, victim of a trace of nervousness. “But try not to provoke my anger or, believe me, you will soon find yourself beneath me again, and this time without your clothes on.”

Her cheeks turned red with shyness and her gaze turned away in embarrassment, allowing me to bring my nose closer to her neck and rub it against a few strands of hair. Her smell came back to tease me, but I understood that the worst was over.

Or at least it was until she opened her mouth.

“Mr. Farrow, I don't know which women you're used to seeing, butI can assure you that, unlike them, I haven't done anything to encourage him or make him understand that I'm available... because I'm not. Most of all, I'm not available to my boss. So, if I said or did something misunderstood…” her lower lip trembled, announcing tears, and she immediately caught it between her teeth, forgetting to finish the sentence.

I mentally called myself an idiot because Brooke had every reason in the world to feel offended. Blinded by anger for fear of having been taken by one of the pack, I didn't measure my tone, much less my words, speaking to her as I would have done to any other woman.

Which she wasn't. She kept showing me this, and each time she did it, it sank deeper into my brain and heart.

I truly feared that some werewolf, not smelling my scent on her and therefore unaware that she was destined for me, would try to claim her. The mere thought that they could take her away from me freaked me out and I found myself wanting to speed up the process, without respecting hers. After all, I had less and less time left.

Whether she wanted to or not, she would have to become my partner before my thirtieth birthday. It was a very simple concept, but one that she was unlikely to accept willingly. Even less so now that I was rude enough to threaten to rip her clothes off.

“I didn't misunderstand anything and your attitude was always impeccable.” I assured, placing each facial feature in a gentle pose and lifting myself off the floor to give him more space. “The only thing I blame you for is the low esteem you have for yourself and which, don't deny it, is making you wonder why I want you. Because you know I want you!” I probed her eyes, seriously, daring her to deny it. “You know as I know, without a doubt, that sooner or later you will be mine.”

“Mr. Farrow…” she began awkwardly, wringing her hands.

But I continued. The die was cast. Going back now would have been childish and pointless. “I will, however, give you some time to play the role in which you reject me with innocent obstinacy. If there's one thing I appreciate about you, it's your purity and your desire to preserve it. However, that won't change things: you will be mine, and by mine I don't mean just for one night.”

The slap came immediately.

And to be honest, also unexpected. In fact, I wasn't ready to avoid it. She tapped her slender fingers against my chin with enough force to make me turn my face to the side, albeit only by a few inches.

“You are the most arrogant man I have ever met. You take it for granted that you know what I want, bragging about a victory that will never be yours. And since you like planning my future so much, I will also make a prediction about yours: I am not interested in you and I will not be interested tomorrow or in a month.”

A smile escaped me. Angry, she was very funny. “Time will tell which of the two is right.”

“I don't want that, Mr. Farrow. Get that through your head.” he reiterated. “I'm here to work and not to…”

“For...?” I provoked her.

“You understood exactly what I meant by that!” he shouted, losing his patience.

She was so beautiful that not kissing her was one of the seven deadly sins. My smile grew; how charming she was in her foolish beliefs.

“And wipe that smile off your face. It's annoying.” he grumbled, quickly passing me to return to camp.

I plucked a blade of grass and placed it between my lips, calmly watching the way Brooke marched toward the fire. The anger managed to change his scent, making it stronger and I savored every facet of it to imprint it inside me.

If just telling her was enough to make her so angry, I wondered how she would react when I explained that she didn't have the right to choose. At that thought my chest vibrated with a low, deep laugh and I took a few steps back, moving away from her to give her time to calm down.

She had just rejected me, and although I didn't have a single reason to be happy about it, the challenge she unconsciously threw at me managed to rekindle in me that thrill of adrenaline-filled anticipation that I hadn't felt since becoming an adult werewolf.

I stood aside for a long time, discreetly observing the angry gestures with which she folded her sleeping bag and threw dirt on the fire to smother the embers. And again I started laughing, almost feeling sorry for myself.

Ah... how many I would have taken!