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

"Xavier," Ray’s voice, soft and smooth, lingers over me. I barely notice as a soft, delicate hand deposits itself on my head, smoothing my azure hair.

And then suddenly I realize whose hand that actually is.

I lift my head, catching Mona's hand as it falls towards the ground. Squeezing it tightly, I use my hearing to listen to her heartbeats, starting back weakly, and then turning stronger with surprising force. Her eyes are still unopened, but a little smile is on the corner of her mouth. It is then that I give myself away to peace and the assurance she is so graciously giving me. Everything will be just fine.

No matter what happens, Mona will be with me.

~ Mona ~

Scalding hot, unfamiliar blood is racing through my veins. 

This is not the first time I have wished for death, but this time, the desire is much, much stronger. Every breath I take allows icy cold air to enter my lungs, freezing my insides and battling the heat that is enveloping me. I experience the extreme burning, then the excruciating cold. I am bathed in excruciating agony, every second pure torture.

Thinking is impossible, hurt being the only emotion consuming my mind.

My tears are like little ice pellets, dripping down my cheeks as I writhe about. Once again, an all-too-familiar sense of doom impends upon me, entering through the fire and ice. I am a lost cause. Death is here waiting once again. Why does he seem to want me so badly?

Then, a splash of a soothing substance hits my tongue, slipping down my throat like melted chocolate. All tranquility it brings vanquishes, exploding in my stomach like fireworks, only accenting my suffering. What sort of medicine is this? It only makes things worse.

Just let it take me.

Let me succumb to the darkness.

But a warm, deliciously strong body refuses to release its hold on my skin, two strong hands latching onto my consciousness like suction cups. I desperately try to sink into the dark depths, temporarily forgetting everything. What do I really have to return to? Not true love, a family, or even friendship. An infatuated werewolf doesn't count, by the way, although a sharp feeling stabs my stomach at the thought.

Do I really want to leave him? Is deserting him what I really want?

The forbidden question is now entertained by my delirious mind, and I am unable to avoid it. Do I love him?

My heart pumping, I begin to regain my vigor after only thinking about him. His perfect, statuesque face dances in my memory, his sparkling emerald eyes peering in my thoughts. Everything about him ripples with strength and masculinity. A blush almost forces itself to my cheeks when I realize I am relishing the image.

I quickly stuff my attraction and desire back into the corner of my mind, avoiding the disarming question at hand. I have only been with Xavier for a couple of days, yet he is affecting me so much... but it must be the effect of mating. I can't be in love, when only a short time before I had never even talked to a guy. Even though he is so enchantingly handsome, distracting me even in this state, I couldn't have let myself fade away to this alien emotion. I couldn't have already given in, after barely waging a fight.

For some strange reason, I feel myself begin to lighten. The heat and heart-wrenching cold recedes, and an almost pleasurable experience snakes into my chest. My limbs feel weak and elastic-like, almost like they have just been stretched, my face likewise. It is like the relief you experience after a workout, weariness coupled with a raw satisfaction. The hands wrapped around me release, and I can feel a gaze searing my skin. Worry is emanating off the person, surrounding me like a blanket. At least somebody cares about me.

Not quite thinking straight, my hand reaches up to calm the creature, man or beast, to lift the burden they are carrying. As I touch a head of hair, my hand nearly shrieks in delight at the pure luxury I am fingering. It is the smoothest hair I have ever felt, long and slightly wispy. Instantly, I realize who this person has to be.

Maybe it won't be so bad to live a little bit longer. I hate to admit it, but he has already morphed into someone I will want live for.

***

I wake to the sweet sound of birds chirping in the breeze.

My eyes slowly adjust to the blinding light streaming through the window, my breathing deep and relaxed. Consciousness returns to me, and with it, remembrance. Last night, I almost died. Maybe I'm actually dead now, and don't realize it.

Is this heaven?

I shrug off the velvety covers, slipping my feet from the mattress to the cold, hard floor. My surroundings are exactly like the room the pack had given me, with a beautiful view of the forestry and wildlife. Maybe I am a ghost, forbidden to enter the afterlife because I attempted to gain immortality.

Padding to the doorway, I gaze at the hallway, a mirror image of the one at the place I am hesitant to call "home". Haziness fills my vision, and I stumble along the walls in a random direction. I needed to find somebody. Anybody.

To tell me where the crap I am.

Unintelligible whispers are floating about, voices pounding. My head is reeling with strange sounds and thoughts, screams and laughter. My feet, however, continue on its unknown path, curiosity in each step. For some reason, I feel very different, and as I look down at my feet, questions fill me. Why are they so far away? Why are they a little bit bigger than I remembered?

Walking nearer to my random destination, I begin to hear low murmurs, the same voices inside my head growing stronger. Once I focus, I can begin to detect words, a conversation flowing.

But most of all is the smells.

I can smell the dust, the air, and the ghastly smell of my clothes with sharpness and clarity. But even stronger is the aroma of three mysterious objects, each more breathtaking than the last. One is like peppermint and the other like a delicious, ripe banana. But the last is the one that is most wonderful; a strange combination of flavors I can't distinguish, yet intoxicating all the same. In an instant, I feel a strange bond to this smell, making it unlike the others. In a hurry, my feet begin to run with excitement, fleeing towards the source.

Everything begins to savagely envelop my senses, a barrage of sound, smell, and breathtakingly rich sight. The light blinds me as I almost gallop into the sunlight, entering the garden. Red, blue and yellow mix to create a spectrum of colors, shown on the brilliant flowers. I barely realize that this is the garden.

Three figures are sitting in the warm grass, gazing into the baby blue sky.

I walk up to the last figure, smiling warmly. I never thought I could feel this happy before. "Xavier," I emit, my voice barely above a whisper. Strangely, it is as if I am singing, my words having a musical quality I used to envy in Xavier's voice.

The magnificent man turns to me, his face devoid of emotion except for a small tear running down his face. His eyes slowly turn to look at me, and the others follow his gaze. Beautiful emerald eyes, streaked with such sorrow, morph immediately into pure amazement as he surveys me. They crawl over me, starting from my head to my toes, scanning me for reasons unknown. Then he finally speaks.

"Mona, is that you?" he gasps, "You changed even more since I left you thirty minutes ago!" Xavier grasps his head unbelievingly. "I can't even recognize you anymore, except by the smell."

"What happened?" I ask curiously, fingering a strand of my red hair in my slender hands. It did seem to be much longer, stretching past my chest instead of cutting off at the shoulders. My nails aren't stumpy either, at a perfect, French-manicure length. Even my face feels different, more sharp and angular.

"You didn't look in the mirror?" the crystal-haired man beside him grins, "That’s a shame."

"I'm so sorry, Mona," A figure whirls into the garden, hurriedness in his steps. Ray slides up to me, past Xavier in the grass, "I didn't think of the risks involved when I tried to convert you. I should've told you..."

"Why are you still here?" Xavier immediately snarls at the almost identical werewolf, "You were supposed to leave by morning." Tension ripples between them, ice in the air.

"I couldn't leave without apologizing to Mona," he says angrily, "the guilt would ruin me."

"That's the point, idiot," Xavier snaps, "I don't want to look at you ever again, anyway."

I have had enough. "Ray did nothing wrong," I fire at him, "I knew the risks. I made the choice. Ray shouldn't have to leave the pack because of me. I'm here, aren't I?" My words float in the breeze towards Xavier's unwilling ears. Indignation pierces me, emanating so everyone can see it.

"But... I almost thought you wouldn't be," Xavier stands up regally, and then reaches out with one finger and strokes my cheek. Passion erupts under his touch, boiling beneath my skin. I nearly choke at the sudden wave of desire that almost overwhelms me. Why does his touch affect me so?

The werewolf sweeps me into a hug, which somehow seems gentler. His crushing embrace doesn't hurt like it sometimes does; only comforting me. Sparks of warmth erupt, and suddenly I feel safer than ever before. Is this what a true hug is supposed to feel like...?

I subconsciously close my eyes, swept away by his evident devotion. Usually I would feel angry at his easily displayed longing, but now, I don't really care.

I almost lost him.

"Ooh," a teasing voice erupts from behind us, "we get to watch a love scene." Hurriedly I jump away from him, suddenly aware of how my face had been moving closer to his. My lips are aching to be touched, stinging with disappointment at the chance that was lost. Even my body is fighting me, begging me to give in to my lust. But I must be stronger.

Jake laughs at my embarrassment, being able to see right through my guise. "Look," he continues jeering, "she's blushing." I cover my face with my hands, hoping that Xavier didn't catch my tomato red cheeks. Wes is chuckling also, Ray rather hesitant to join in. He looks bedridden, bedraggled with sadness and... annoyance? He doesn't seem to feel very guilty, disguising this strange fact under humility. I can almost spot a tidbit of triumph and pride searing through him as he looks at me, biting to be let through.

I can tell Xavier is melting as he turns his gaze towards the accused, softening as he looks at the almost identical