Awakening: Book 1

by L. T. Marshall

  “Colton… what have I done?” I blurt it out like a needy sad Carmen type, and he pauses, frowns, stopping mid step and turns back at me with a very noticeable wince of pain flashing across his face. It kills some of the sterile stance and he seems to sag a little.

  “You haven’t done anything. It’s me. My father wants me to stand up and take my place. He wants me to mark Carmen at the next moon and resolve what he calls, our little issue. Nothing I say makes a difference, he won’t bend, so maybe it’s better for us to keeps our distance and hope that something changes, or that my marking her kills our bond.” He’s deflated, as broken as he’s making me, looking so much younger and vulnerable than his years in this moment, and giving up so easily. My instinct is to get mad and yell at him, like I’ve done so many times already in our short acquaintance, but my plan of earlier pushes through, reminding me that he’s lost and set afloat right now. He’s in pain too, and struggling to navigate it as much as I am. So much weighing on his shoulders that I don’t understand and can’t see.

  I need to bring him in and secure him to my harbor. Stop letting him pull all the ropes alone, stop expecting him to sail against the storm without direction, making all the moves. Don’t push, even if my instinct is to feel disappointed in him and seethe with anger. I need to stop, breathe, and look at him another way. As someone who needs gentle coaxing and nurturing. He’s stubborn, he’s bound by duty, but I have his heart, all of it, and I need to help that power grow from inside out.

  I lower my tone, gently whispering as I cross towards him, fighting my own nerves and inexperience, and putting faith in the fact I know he loves me. Taking my cue from Meadow.

  I step across the gap and raise myself on tip toes to reach him, laying one hand flat on his muscular chest, and lifting the other to his jaw gently. Eyes resting on his, locking onto him the way that always does and makes me feel safe. My own heart swelling, my body tinging with the nearness of him.

  “Don’t give up on us.” I breathe it out, almost against his lips, I get so close. Insides somersaulting with the need to kiss him. I run my fingers up his cheek and cup his face, pulling him close, so softly, my mouth grazes his lips and I feel him physically sag into my touch, needily. Melting against my briefest connection, his pupils dilating as I bring his forehead to mine. No matter what he says, or how he acts, his truth is always in our touch, and he cannot deny the affect is has on both of us. That need to fluidly pour into one another and inability to fight when we touch.

  “I’m not worthy of you…. Today showed me that.” It’s husky, strained, and low. It’s self-pity and exhaustion. Defeat, because his father’s knocked him down once more, and left him reeling from cruel words. I refuse to accept what he’s saying as truth to what he’s feeling, and instead of anger, I lean up and press my lips gently to his. Startling him with the sudden contact and refusing to back down.

  It takes a second of pause, his body going rigid before he relaxes, pushes his face forward to fully kiss me and his hand comes to slide around the back of my neck as he takes over. It doesn’t take much to ignite fire in him and I groan as he gives me what I’m yearning for.

  Kissing him is so familiar and as I open my mouth to let things progress quickly, all those feelings and crazy urges rush back like a massive tidal wave hitting the shore. So easy to become consumed and intoxicated with need when we’re touching this way. My lips parting wider, to give him access as his tongue slides against mine and he kisses me with passion and expertise that makes my toes curl and my stomach tingle.

  Colton stirs against me, his body easing against mine, relaxing into the hold we have on one another and meeting my groan with his own murmured growl of enjoyment. We’re made to kiss one another, and I can’t imagine anyone ever tasting this good or making me feel this complete. Neither can deny our bond when we kiss, it’s potent and all consuming.

  Just as his hands begin to slide down my back and over my ass, bringing my pelvis to his, hinting at his sexual excitement, he stops abruptly. Catching himself, he pulls away fast, so suddenly he literally rips us apart and I’m stunned with the sudden release, eyes flickering open to find myself tottering on unsure legs. He steps back, fully releasing me, almost letting me topple with the sudden loss of support, but I catch myself on the nearby door frame, breathless, and panting with how hot that make out session was and glance up at his shell shocked expression.

  “We shouldn’t… it’s only going to make this harder.” He closes right back down inside of his own head. That softness of his expression, the dilated pupils and stirring body. It all reels back at speed as he regains perfect control. I, however, am fire dup and burning with crazy heat, which triggers severe frustration at the sudden halt.

  “I disagree. I think we should take what time we have and no regrets with it. My body yearns for you, and I could feel it was mutual. We’re doing nothing wrong in the eyes of the fates. This is what they wanted for us. Stay with me tonight, share my bed, give us something more than this.” It’s brazen for me, and I swear I hear Meadows voice in my head, egging me on as the words tumble out. A confidence growing that I never knew I could possess, and a shameless need to see this through. I’m all in and willing to lose my virginity tonight. In fact, I want it badly.

  I don’t care if I’m not marked, I’ll let him in my bed and make him bond to me in other ways if it makes him start fighting for his right. Sex will bind us, and I’m willing to use any tool to get my mates head out of his ass.

  “I can’t. I’m sorry.” Colton can’t look me in the eye, and I can feel the agony waving his way from me. The turmoil, the regret, the confusion as he fights his own will power. My boy’s screwed up in the head and fighting with his own emotions and morals. I realize this is going to be tougher than I thought, and it’s not just Juan’s command. Colton’s fighting with his own inner voice, about what’s right, and what he should do. I can taste the indecision as it’s thick enough around me to color the air.

  He steps forward, eyes still downcast and surprises me with a fast, fleeting, yet soft kiss on the forehead that renders me mute. A moment of his gentle affectionate side to let me know he does care, even if his refusal makes it seem otherwise.

  “It’s not that I don’t want you… just please, don’t hate me.” He doesn’t wait for an answer, turns on his heel rapidly and heads back the way we came, at speed, not looking back, wounding me with how much he’ fighting this. My heart thuds through my chest, stomach in knots as I watch him go, but I remind myself that I’m not a girl who falls at the first hurdle, and I won’t give up.

  If you change your mind, my door, for you, will always be open. I’m not giving up on us.

  My mind link follows him out of sight, my heart aching harder the further he gets away, and I’m close to tears but bite them back. Refusing to break down and be weak over this. Colton needs strength and I ‘m going to prove I have a lot of it.

  I survived my family’s death and my makeshift pack’s. I’m tougher than I ever gave myself credit for, and it’s time I started to own that.

  I wait for what seems like an eternity of agonizing silence in the air, until he’s far out of reach emotionally, and the sounds of his footsteps on wood have drifted hopelessly away. I almost break down and cry when no response comes at all, desolate, and alone, when he delivers that one little ray of hope.

  I love you, Lorey. I won’t give up on us either.

  The Agony

  I bend double, stomach twisting itself inside out, and dry wretch as my body tries to vomit out the contents of my earlier breakfast. A washing machine motion making me spasm as I gag once or twice. Sweating profusely, limbs shaking with exertion, and heart working so hard I think I’m having a heart attack, and it’s about to explode through my chest. I can feel my own pulse inside my ears and in my throat while I use my hands on my knees to brace my body and gasp for breath to fill my laboring lungs. I feel like I’m on the verge of dying.

  “Here, drink some water and
it’ll pass. Take a breather.” Colton holds out a cold bottle towards me, foggy with condensation and straight from the ice bucket, at eye level and I can’t even muster up the ability to reach out and take it. I cough up phlegm, my throat burning painfully, and exhale wheezily in some sort of response. I can’t believe how unfit I am.

  “It’ll get easier, you’re just at the start of building stamina.” He carries on, placing the bottle on the grass below me near my feet within my eyeline, and sinks down on his haunches to gaze up at me, tilting his face and smiling handsomely. A bead of sweat runs from my messy ponytail down past my ear and somehow travels across my cheek to drip off the tip of my nose. I can feel more running down the center of my spine, between my shoulder blades, and I shudder.

  “If I... make it… that …far.” It’s an effort and a half to get the words out and he grins at me, amused with my uselessness. We’ve been out here for hours. Stretching, running, exercising, jumping boards, climbing obstacles. I never knew physical training could inflict so much agony.

  “You’re doing fine. First time my father put me through this, I blacked out and woke up covered in my own vomit, at his feet.” He shrugs with that cute boy smirk as though it’s some sort of proud memory and I squint at him. Not sure why that’s a helpful or encouraging thing to say, and he chuckles, that sexy half smile of his bringing out his dimples and pats me on the back firmly. I feel like he’s being more condescending than sympathetic and inhale with effort, sure my lungs might no longer be working to full capacity, and then blow out a long hot exhale. Trying to recover enough to take the damn drink I sorely need.

  The noise of a field full of various aged people, all in different stages of training is all around us, voices echoing among the rumble of vehicles, and building works in the further distance. It feels like a school sports day, only with more shouting and yelling, and much older people. Also, a lot fitter, because I don’t remember my class ever taking on a course like this and doing it without dying.

  The whole valley is in movement, orders being carried out, and there’s been an ongoing stream of trucks all day so far. Bringing supplies, materials, and wolves from further down the valley outskirts of its furthest point. They started construction further down and there’s been rumbling and thudding noises coming from that direction on the wind. They were quick to assemble and start to put things in motion at the crack of dawn and its humbling to see the force that is Santo, in the flesh.

  The worst of the internal burn inside of me calms down with the non-movement of my limbs and the three minutes of rest. I grab at the bottle and manage to straighten up, if somewhat painfully. My body trembling, and my legs weak, I can’t take it anymore slumping down on my butt ungracefully, accepting fate. I’m done. It doesn’t help that we’re moving from spring to summer and the sun is hitting its high point of the day and slow roasting us all to a crisp. Not the best time to take your unfit self and put it through military style athletics.

  Colton looks up and towards a podium where senior wolves stand issuing orders at the masses, and nods silently. I guess someone is talking to him and he flashes me back a sympathetic smile.

  “You’ll be pleased to know you have a two-hour rest and refresh session to go easy and lay face down on your bed.” He extends a hand to me, straightening up to stand up himself and I bat it away with another frown.

  “I’m going to lay right here, thank you very much, and hope to god I wake up and this was all a bad dream.” It’s a better attempt at verbal conversation but I still sound like an asthmatic dying pig. If only that was a strong possibility.

  I let myself slump back into the short prickly terrain cushioning my ungraceful fall, and stare up at the cloudless blue sky, so utterly relieved to be able to let my body finally stop. It would be a beautiful day if I could appreciate it.

  The fatigue washes over me and highlights how done my limbs are, and how unlikely it is they’re going to cooperate or recover anytime soon. I can’t take anymore even if I wanted to and hours of physical exertion have highlighted how unfit I am, while Colton barely broke a sweat.

  “Do you need me to go get a wheelchair, or give you a piggyback?” He’s mocking me now, his tone light, that air of cheeky and I can tell his dimples will be on show. I shove at his foot weakly as he gets up, comes close and toe digs me softly. Trying to push me into action. He towers over me offering a little shade from the direct light and I take a second to admire the formidable build of my Adonis. He’s in a gray tracksuit that molds to his perfect muscular body and even in this heat, he has it zipped up to the top of the stand-up collar. No hint of being overheated, or sweaty or even reddening and I wonder what’s up with that.

  “Nope. Go away and leave me here to become one with the daisies. I’ve decided this isn’t the life for me.” It’s humor on my part, the atmosphere between us today a lot less strained than last night. He seems brighter, more like his usual self today, working, and training in the sub pack, I could tell he is back on normal form. Carmen even managed to irritate him less as we were all so focused on what we had to do.

  This morning, at dawn, started with a twenty-minute yoga type bunch of stretches, a warmup, followed by a two-mile run that was a major shock to my system. I’ve now added sadist to his list of less desirable traits, because he’s a bossy asshole who kept running behind me and pushing me along by my butt when I lagged behind, refusing to let me stop no matter how much I begged him. Or maybe it was just an excuse to put his hands on my ass. Either way, it wasn’t appreciated while I was panting like an old person trying to climb a stair.

  “Can’t, the grass cutters come out at noon and I don’t think you would look good shredded and decorating the field. Come on, lazy, we need to go shower, eat, and head out this afternoon. We have things to do.”

  That brings me back to reality and hits me with a note of seriousness. I know what it is we have to do and whether I want to or not, I’m being dragged along, as he has this idea that from yesterday, I became part of his sub pack. Luckily, his father hasn’t been around today to see me among his best, because I know he isn’t going to like this slow integration Colton has me doing.

  The plan this afternoon is to split into trucks to start visiting the villages around the mountain. Juan wants us to issue notices, and orders, to ‘deal’ with disobeyers. Colton managed to convince him that force wasn’t needed, or advisable, in the end. I guess Juan slept on it, and this morning new orders were issued among the pack leaders. We’ve to deliver face to face written notice that might give them time to come around to having them up and move the few miles to the Santo domain. I know it’s because of Colton standing up to him.

  Colton has a good heart, and despite years of thinking him arrogant and careless of people below him, looking back, I realize he just stuck to his own kind, and in the old mindset that the packs were rivals. He had his close-knit circle and he didn’t like entertaining anyone new. He saw me as everyone else did, as one of the cast asides, and he made no attempt to interact with me. His defense of the people around the whole mountain tell me I had him all wrong.

  I reluctantly roll over onto my belly and lay my cheek on the grass, enjoying the cool feeling on my previous overly warm skin. It’s a little stabby but a welcome relief to climbing nets, sprinting, and jumping hurdles again. The rest of the pack are still off in the distance, carrying on, and I keep hearing Meadow issuing commanding directions to them as they tackle a huge wall they’re climbing. As wolves it would be easy, but today’s training was human only. Stamina building, apparently.

  “Just five more minutes.” I moan softly, truly giving up on any form of movement as my body shuts down completely, deflating with a heavy, dramatic sigh. I yelp when his strong hands slide under me at speed, around the waist, him jumping over me and planting a foot either side of my hips as he lifts me up in one short sharp maneuver.

  My arms flail, my legs curl and swing under him before he pulls me fully with him and drops me on my own feet. Clin
ging to his upper arms, making all sorts of desperate sounds and end up with the back of my head in the crook of his neck, my butt imbedded in his groin intimately. He doesn’t let me go straight away, just pulls me in tight with a sneaky hug, and lowers his own face so his mouth comes level with my ear. As always, my body reacts even when I don’t want it to and I goosebumps all over, internal explosions and tingles going off inside my stomach so easily.

  “You should never turn your back on your mate…. Gives him all sorts of dirty ideas.” That husky tone ignites all sorts of hot and fiery feelings in the depths of my pelvis and it seems to magically revive me.

  “Mate, huh? … I thought you dumped my ass and were sulking over the fact we would never be.” I point out a little sassily, his arms sliding up around my ribs as he hugs me in against him fully. Taking advantage of the moment and initiating a different kind of contact.

  “It’s such a nice ass, that I realized my mistake and am groveling at your … rear.” He chuckles in my ear, that telltale cheeky sound, and I know he’s only playing, but it strikes a chord in me that dampens the sexy mood, killing it dead. For a moment, that bitter pang of annoyed hits me in the stomach hard and I push away from him hastily, freeing his hold on me and step out of his embrace, elbowing him in the abs as I get away.

  “Don’t.” It’s a moody bite to my tone, death of playful, as now stiff, and prickly, heart pained while he’s making light of this. I catch him out of the corner of my eye, sighing too, his whole fun demeanor changing as swiftly as mine.

  “Hey…. Don’t be like that.” He reaches for me, but I step away again, picking up the discarded water bottle and turn on my heel to march to the main house. He said shower and food and I think we need some breathing space. Maybe I’m being too sensitive, but I can’t help the overwhelming urge to suddenly punch him in the throat, while sobbing my eyes out.

  “Lorey, baby?” He follows me, obviously getting the waves of wounded mood and sulkiness coming his way. I know I chastised myself last night, to be more patient and reel him in, but I’m so sick of this hot and cold thing he has going on. It’s up and down, touch, don’t touch. Mate, not mate, and it’s messing with my head. No wonder I’m having a hard time even sticking to my own plan.