Chapter 4

It only takes a few seconds of violently grabbing at thin air before I realize I am not going to get my ID back by force. He is moving his arms so quickly that its impossible to even touch him. Rolling my eyes in resignation, I lean back and fall against the divan.

"Are you ever planning on giving it back?"

"Sure. Someday. I'm rather fond of this picture of you." He looks at it again, and my mind flashes back to the time when that picture was taken. It was about six months ago, and also the day when I lost my glasses yet again, leaving me half blind and unable to even tie my shoes, let alone comb my hair. I had even worn my shirt inside out. It was awful.

I now realize he truly has been making fun of me.

I say nothing, my eyes returning to him. I subconsciously focus on how the sunlight seems to catch on his azure hair and sparkle, making his whole head look like it is sprinkled with stardust. He doesn't wait for me to speak. "But anyway... I doubt it will take you long to fall in love with me."

"How come, wolfboy?" I look at him, astounded at his pompousness and how honest he looks while saying those words.

"My charm is so overwhelming." He flips his hair and flashes me a bright, astounding smile. I am almost blinded by its beauty. "How could you not?"

"How could I, you arrogant brat?!" I respond bitingly, "I prefer a trait in men that you don't possess—humility." And a brain, of course.

"I was joking," he defends himself, "come on Ava, you know that! I'm not like any boy you have met before. I would sacrifice anything, even my life, for you. I know that's a strange statement to make, but I genuinely feel that way. Every werewolf feels like this towards his or her mate. You can trust me-"

"What was that you just said?" I ask dangerously, interrupting his rant. I can't believe my ears, my eyes narrowing. He did not just say that...

"You're... my mate," he says hesitantly, pausing slightly before he continues, "If you weren't my mate, I would have killed you in the forest. I'm usually not very kind to trespassers that stumble our way." After a short span of shocked silence, he grabs my hands and squeezes them. "I'm all yours," he whispers, staring deeply in my eyes with an unfathomable intensity.

I laugh at the way he mentions it so lightly. He tells me that I'm his "mate", bound to him for life (or afterlife), and he expects me to just take it in? To immediately obey his request?

I can see the seriousness and fear in his beautiful green eyes, silently pleading with me to understand.

I'm amazed the most at the fact that he expects me to take him seriously. Or maybe he doesn't. Maybe he just wants the satisfaction of having me fall for his wily tricks. I have to say, he is a marvelous liar.

Anger overwhelms me, my heartbeat rising. Why don't I get a choice on whether to be his mate? Is he so superior that he can't give me the option to be free?

"Uh, well, um..." I inch towards the door, edging to the exit that will free me from this nightmare. My red hair falls into my face, my hands shaking. Lucas smiles as the phone begins to ring, causing my stomach to unwillingly flip flop.

"Excuse me while I take this call," he says quickly, retreating from my sight. I hear the pounding of footsteps, then nothing. I sigh in relief. The coast is clear.

Oh wonderful phone, you are my savior.

I run towards to door, flinging it open and rushing out into the considerably lightened rainfall. The light mist sprinkles on my nose, dancing around my toes as I slosh through the muddy dirt, my bare feet dyed brown. My red hair is loose and wavy, flying as a blast of cold wind forces it far behind me. I carry my flats in my hands, sticking my tongue out carelessly to catch a drop of the water that falls from the sky.

Freedom is at hand.

***

BEEP! BEEP!

I slap the button on the alarm clock, trying to stop its irritating wails. I am lying in my bed, my fluffy stuffed animals surrounding my heavily buried form. I have many of them, a whole collection from my childhood, which I can't bear to get rid of. Gold tones flood through my small windows, illuminating my face as I sit up into the glaring sunlight. Just beyond the glass lays a beautiful milieu of crisp, green grass, crystal clear lake water, and tall trees. Puffy clouds hang in the blue sky, birds cruising across the horizon.

I wearily drag myself from the covers, my feet causing a thump as they collide with the floor. Stumbling over to my dresser, I carelessly grab a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, sliding it over my form. My spare pair of glasses, the other lost in the storm, squeak as I slide it onto my nose. I, by chance, catch a glance of my body in the mirror, and gasp.

A huge, black-and-blue bruise sprawls across my left shoulder, extreme redness surrounding it. Another one, though not quite so major, decorates my knee, bringing back painfully stark memories from the previous night. It isn't only a dream.

I really did meet a handsome crazy man last night who saved me from certain death.

I can still remember his perfect face, his startling green eyes, and his uniqueness I did not understand. Even thinking of him sends tingles through my body, alertness flooding through me. How can a brief memory affect me so much?

I shuffle to the door, looking out along the hallway. Rows of doors greet me, stuffiness overtaking my senses. A repugnant stench makes my nose wrinkle in disgust, but not surprise. It always smells like this. The other kids all got used to it, but I never did.

From the very beginning, my ninth birthday spanning until the present, I have felt like I didn't belong. Almost... like my parents were not fated to die, that I was meant to be by their side even now. It was just a feeling, in the pit of my stomach, that something was terribly wrong. The other kids, as I grew up, seemed to understand that also, gladly treating me like I didn't belong. At first, I was a pretty nice kid. I wanted more friends. I wanted to play in their games. I wanted Ms. Penn to treat me just like everyone else. And, most of all, I wanted desperately to laugh. To smile.

But I soon gave up on that fantasy.

I soon gave in to the other kids' coldness, turning into a hard shell that was sharp, bitter, and tough. I didn't need anybody. I didn't want anybody.

I was above them all.