A Howl In The Night by Lorelei Sutton (life books to read .txt) 📕

"Fine," I huff, "but you better not auction me off in secret while I'm there. I know you... you'll do anything for a bit of extra cash." Jake is our moneyman, business-like with a wild side. I have absolutely no idea why the girls like him. Obviously they can tell that the green wads of paper in their hands appeal more to him than they do.

"Don't worry, I'm not inhuman enough to do that... but that's a great thought though. Imagine! We'd make 100,000 bucks off you for your last auction. They'd all be bidding like crazy," Jake dreamily says, brushing a hand through his short, crystal white hair.

Without another word, I storm out of the kitchen, wanting to avoid one of Jake's devious schemes. It's not like I could pull another "boyfriend of the week" package anyway. Everything has changed since I met Mona.

I can barely remember the Xavier from a couple days ago who could enchant any girl at all, all the while thinking that it was just a game. I was a true player then, toying with people's feelings, making them believe I cared. My behavior was a lot lazier, my existence almost meaningless. I was a lot meaner too, cutting off all contact with my bewitched clients when I gained another one.

How can mating change me so much?

Even if I want to morph back into my old self, the part of me that wouldn't give Mona a second glance, I can't. Every touch that she gives sets my heart on fire, making my skin tingle. I can almost feel her emotions, like a throb in my chest. Every part of me longs to be by her side, to smell that truly intoxicating fragrance that has been there since the beginning.

Even the others have admitted her smell is above ordinary, although I'm sure it is heightened around me. With this added enchantment, Mona is so irresistible that her looks aren't necessary. Just one word, one step closer so her smell is magnified, attracts me greatly. Her appearance doesn't matter now, so unlike the hundreds I have dated in my lifespan.

Not that her appearance is as horrible as she thinks it is. What really makes her seem so ugly is when she is sucked of self-confidence, convinced she is hideous. But if she straightens her back, tilts up her head, wears a little bit more fashionable clothing and smiles, then she isn't ugly at all. Maybe that's just a lovesick guy's opinion, but to me, it's absolutely true.

I walk down the hallway, passing by Mona's room and almost stopping. Mona doesn't even seem grateful that I am being patient for her. She can tell I'm her true mate for life, and I know she is attracted to me. How couldn't she? The mating practically forces you to fall under the other's spell, Mona fighting valiantly but failing. I can see it in her eyes, the way she wants me. So why is she objecting every step of the way? Am I really that bad?

I suppose I am so detestable that she cannot allow me even a single kiss. Mona can really bring down a guy's ego.

I slip into my room, walking to the closet and swinging it open. A plethora of stylish suits all hang, available whenever I want to be fancy. The girls like it better if I wear a suit, and it will be best to wear one anyway when we go. Unless they suddenly decide to throw eggs at me or something. I don't know if something like that could ever get out.

Picking a dark gray one that accentuates the color of my hair and eyes, I tug it over my skin. It takes less than a minute to put on with my speed, my hands blurring.

 A stupid idea comes to mind, and I walk to the door connecting my room and Mona's. "Hey Mona?" I call, "you okay?"

There is a silence, a long one that stretches seemingly forever. "I'm... fine," a whisper barely louder than a sharp intake of breath emits.

"Will you come with us to Moonlight?" I invite, imagining the scenario. They would throw everything they got at Mona, shifting their hate from me to her. Especially since her appearance is lacking a little. However, I really want her by my side, to be close to the sweet smell that attacks my senses.

"I think I'll pass," her shaky voice replies, and I go sit on my bed. I slide my feet on it, my head on the pillow, and stare at the ceiling. The slow ticks of the clock as the second hand moves ring through my head, a beat I can't get out of my mind.

"Xavier!" Wes calls, "it's time to go already!" I shoot out of bed, slinging the door open. Suddenly wary, I troop back in, checking my hair in the mirror. A stray piece is sticking up, my hairbrush quickly attacking it. Now it is perfect.

Being flawless is essential when I am going to a place like this.

Wes, Jake, and a very depressed-looking Yi stand by our Mercedes, waiting anxiously for me. "Where's Ray?" I wonder aloud. It's not an auction week, so Ray is not required to come, but he usually goes anyways. He seems to enjoy time at the club, turning into a devastatingly handsome devil whenever he walks through those glass doors. We all do, for we know the more flirtatious we seem, the more bucks those ladies will cough up.

"He's in his room," Jake lazily answers, "probably obsessing over the stock market again." Ray is a huge stock market guy. He is a master of figuring out which will skyrocket and which will plummet.

"Mona doesn't want to go?" Wes questions innocently.

"No, she wants to go get pelted by wine glasses and whatever else they can get their hands on," I reply sarcastically. Of course she would not want to go. She's not exactly a social butterfly. I was just stupid enough to ask her.

All four of us shuffle inside the luxurious and incredibly spacious Mercedes, Jake in the front seat with Wes beside him, then Yi and I in the back. I, at times like this, always feel like a celebrity, knowing that we are going to a place where people think us to be famous. I am so used to anonymity throughout the week, except on our dates, that it always feels like a splash of frighteningly cold water when we take the first steps out of our Mercedes into a sea of wealthy fans.

The car gives a low, healthy growl, and then starts the smooth ride over to the club. For some reason, I have a feeling that I am like a pig being led to the slaughter. I probably won't get out of the club tonight without a few scrapes, bruises, and red tomato splotches. If someone's feeling particularly spiteful, I imagine they might pour their highly expensive drink on my head.

I'm looking forward to ending my highly successful career, though. Repeat customers, Meryl especially, have been kind of... possessive, lately. I have tried explaining to them that "Boyfriend of the Week" does not mean "Boyfriend of the Month" for a select few, but the meaning doesn't exactly get across to them. They almost enjoy calling me and paying the $500 fine.

I lean my head against the tinted windows, looking into the baby blue skies. Clouds that are a deep, devastating gray are spotted across the horizon, symbolizing the dawning of a horrific thunderstorm. I have always thought of clouds as a bruise, marring the otherwise perfect sky.

 The sun is setting, rays of orange and red starting to shoot through the air. With the way this car is moving, it will be nightfall before we reach the club. I hate traveling by car; wolf form is so much easier. However, it burns so many calories, and we don't have any meat to eat when we get there... making us want to take a delicious human snack to ease our hunger. Which is definitely not good, especially with rich, snotty, and especially beautiful women practically throwing themselves at us.

Yes, traveling by car is certainly safer, but painful all the same.

Mona's smell is dangerously small, the weakest it has been in days. I find myself sniffing for it, trying to search for the quickly-vanishing scent that enchants me so deeply. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to leave her. I should have dragged her with us, forcing her to at least sit in the car. I don't like leaving Mona with Ray also... even though he's probably not going to do anything, anyways. Ray can be a hermit sometimes, staying in his room for hours doing who-knows-what.

The lush landscape around us, filled with tall trees, prickly bushes, and many colorful flowers, fades into a concrete road, trimmed grass, and stubby buildings as we reach the edge of our territory. We own practically the entire forest, earning both privacy and a great place to hunt. Rumors swirl around the surrounding area, some of which we start ourselves, scaring most people into fearing the forest more than death itself. We're lucky Mona never heard those rumors, for then we would have a lot of explaining to do.

The huge city looms before us after we reach the edges of the suburbs and inch along the interstate. Cars multiply, many old and beaten, trudging home from work. Suddenly, the T-word begins to develop. The word I hate more than anything.

Traffic.

Bumper to bumper, never ending torture erupts in the blink of an eye, the overcrowded roads stretching endlessly. Our destination seems to grow farther and farther away as we sit, unmoving.

Ages seem to pass as Jake slowly maneuvers us through the throng of cars and trucks. Why does everyone have to use this road?! Why can't we just use our wolf form?

Once again, I must say that I hate cars. Mona's frightful story from a few days ago only reiterates this point.

Exactly as I predicted, the sky is a majestic, sapphire blue that is quickly morphing into a deep black by the time we reach the towering building, climbing almost fifteen stories in height. At the top is the famed Moonlight nightclub, where you get a perfect view of the beautiful moon every Saturday.

We slide out of the car with grace, our movements fluid and enchanting, and the valet driver takes our car to the parking lot. It is time for us to bring the life to the party.

The only thing is that right now, I feel dead. Without Mona's aroma and my usual confidence, everything seems dark.

And Ray... I don't even know what to think about him.

I wave away all doubt as I reach the fifteenth floor from the stairway, trying to focus at the matter at hand. The feisty wolves are right beyond the glass doors already, waiting for me. Jake shoots me a sympathetic look as I reach forward to grasp the handle.

"You're dead," are the last words I hear before doom strikes.

A plethora of lovely ladies crowd around me instantly, something I have grown to handle. Many new faces are around, made-up into oblivion. I instantly smile, trying desperately to veil the sudden discomfort underneath. I used to be right at home under these admiring gazes, but now they scare me as if I am a deer caught in the headlights. 

A red-sequined dress clinging to a truly magnificent body slides my way, home to a nasty minx with deep chocolate eyes and voluptuous, plump red lips. "I've been waiting for you," she says coaxingly, parting the women like they were the Red Sea, and then pulling me into a heartfelt embrace.

"I told you not to hug me when I'm not yours! You know the rules," I tell Meryl angrily, and she laughs.

"But Xavier... when I see you surrounded by those truly