Wolfess's Desire:Werewolf Romance

By: Ethel Venters

 (Fantasy First Bad Boy Billionaire Comedy Mystery Seduced by Alpha Shapeshifter Short Stories)


Chapter 1


“Don’t forget to come back in time for the meeting, okay Jane?” Pulling her hood closer around her face, Sarah didn’t acknowledge the reminder on her way out of the house in which she now lived. As soon as the front door opened, the sound of hard, heavy rain slapping against the pavement hit her ears, but it didn’t deter her. Instead, the smell billowed welcomingly into her lungs and her hoodie became saturated with a comfortable kind of weight. It was hot enough outside that she didn’t need such a heavy thing or her thick sweat pants- but it wasn’t the weather she was afraid of.

Absently glancing around, she made sure no one else was around before making her way to the sidewalk.

Ever since she’d been liberated from the prison that held her hostage for too many years to count, Sarah often found herself trying to get away from the family that took her in. She could hear every sound they made, and it caused her stomach to flip dangerously. Each word, every chuckle- even the silence that spoke of affectionate gazes made her physically ill. Six months she’d been subjected to a new kind of torture and sometimes she wished she’d never been rescued. At least then she wouldn’t know there was something more.

Wandering down the street, the sound of rain slapping against pavement was her only distraction from the thoughts that swirled in Sarah’s head. Life now was so vastly different from her existence before and she didn’t like the complexities. Instead of a small cell, she had a rather large room and Julia had told her she could decorate it. The questions, the options, the thinking that it took were all too much though. On that same note, she’d gone from eating one small meal a day to being asked what she wanted to eat. Julia was a good cook, but she just didn’t understand how hard it was to make such a small decision.

It had taken Sarah a long time to figure out that the meal her foster mother prepared for everyone else also extended to her. Still, that didn’t stop her from picking at the leftovers from the trash when she thought she could get away with it only to hide the scraps under her pillow to eat later.

Her existence, according to the people she’d heard gossiping, was sad and pitiful. And that was why she never associated with the pack. No one even knew her name, which was why everyone called her Jane.

Coming closer to the little park where she liked to slide down the slide and swing on the swings, Sarah pulled her small hands out of her hoodie pocket to unhook the latch on the gate. Despite the fact that it was later in the afternoon, the sun was blocked by thick, dark clouds and made it hard to see because of the deluge pouring down on her. Once inside the secure area, surrounded by chain link, she felt safer than most other places. In this playground no one could come near her without rattling something. She sat down on a wet swing that was painted a bright red color and lifted her sneakered feet off the ground to watch as the world began to sway.

In the past six months Sarah had learned things. She’d always known certain truths like the fact that she was a werewolf and that everyone around her were also werewolves. She knew she didn’t have a ‘typical’ childhood, and from her years inside her cage that she was lucky to be alive; although that depended on perspective. Now, after being in this place, she came to understand some more truths. One of those happened to be a thing called a mate. While she didn’t really know the specifics, she knew it’d be a man and that he would ‘love’ her. Whatever that was.

Frowning as the ground scurried away only to come flying back at her, Sarah couldn’t really help herself from thinking about the other people in this pack. They didn’t like her and thought of her as being odd. Sometimes she’d hear them talking about her, using words like ‘illiterate’ and ‘stupid’. Eventually she’d been able to understand that those were words to describe that she couldn’t read or write and the misguided notion that she couldn’t talk. Really, though, they were the ones being stupid. She didn’t talk because there wasn’t a point. No one cared about her, not even Julia despite how nice she was. In her cell she’d been silent, and just because the torture changed didn’t mean she had.

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