Chapter 5

I take a walk in the afternoon with a book in my hand. The sidewalk is serene, blissfully empty, and there are comfortable wooden benches.

Every reader's dream.

With the Story of Arctic Wolves in my hand, I plop down with one of my favorite casual black overall on the bench, I lean back and open the book with crossed legs, leaving my flats on the floor. I have been trying to think of reasons as to why they all bowed to him before.

The book grabs my interest when it mentions that the arctic wolves communicate via sounds (growling) and position of their tail, natural enemies of Arctic wolves are other packs of Arctic wolves and polar bears.

Why does everyone kneel to him if he's only a normal wolf and his enemies are not the Canis Lupus?

I have to do more research on that in the library. But for now, I enjoy my reading as the soft wind picks my tendrils out and I place them away, there is a story mentioned about the Arctic wolf that gets beaten up by humans, in the land of Oretha, a fantasy land full of wolves, he descends down to find the one who hurt him and kills him at the end, he can also shift to human form to chase after his sworn enemy.

My mind reminisces Daniel, and I wonder what kind of a wolf he is. He obviously has compulsion. It's weird to think about the person who bullies you through your year in school only to be a wolf at the end with a hidden disguise.

I nearly topple over the bench when I see the familiar darkish gray blotches, he is here and he looks upset, I don't know how to describe it when he stares at me through the park gates. He looks almost offended that I am here reading a book about his type.

Willing him to come through my mind, he disobeys when he flails his tail and go around the gate. I get deflated at the fact that he doesn't want to see me, but then I watch him come forward, as if he changes his mind.

Although he is standing a bit far off from where I am sitting, I smile delicately at him.

I close my book, cradling it on my lap.

"I know it was you that saved me," I make it known that I am grateful when I continue, "thank you for listening to me." His eyes show rays of sentiment before he sprints rapidly off to his place.

Well, at least, I am able to thank him. I did what I can do.

Standing up after an hour of reading, my legs get cramped, so I stretch them out before I put on my flats and speed walk to my house.

My head is in the clouds. Tomorrow is school day, but I wonder if I have time to use the computer in the library for research. My strides stop when my head bumps into someone's chest, and my eyes look up at the tall guy with windswept blonde curls.

He has the bluest eyes I have ever seen. A weird sense of familiarity crosses over my mind, but I don't want to ogle at him, he will think that I am a total freak.

Nonetheless, he politely smiles and takes the book from the ground to hand it over.

"I'm sorry, I should have paid attention," his smile is heavenly, and he has such a peaceful vibe to him that strangely attracts me.

My lips parts, only for my squeaky voice to say, "no problem,"

He gives me a wide smile, showing his pearly whites as he stalls, I can say that he's 6'4 in height when he looms over at me, but I don't crane my neck. He just has a perfect height compared to mine.

His aquatic eyes brightens at me.

"I'm Alaska, and you?" he asks interestingly, and I seem to feel queasy about the stranger.

"Aspen," I introduce, almost forgetting how to breathe in front of the friendly guy.

"So, you're into books about werewolves?"

"Yes, I am,"

"I liv-" he pauses, before he rushes his words, "that's cool, I meant that I live nearby from here."

I give him a comforting smile to ease his nerves. He just smiles back and gives me a wave before he goes, I wave back and somewhere deep inside of me, I know his eyes.

Don't be ridiculous, everyone can have blue eyes. I surpass the potential hint in my mind.

I finally arrive to the house, smelling the delicious burgers made by my brother. My mind just can't seem to stop wheeling around the guy I just encountered, it's like my body is telling me something, but I can't seem to pinpoint it.

Holland looks funny in a pink apron that's supposed to be mine, the small clothing barely covers his athletic chest, almost like a tight shirt. He has a chef's hat and is dancing to some Nirvana.

My brother surely is a free spirit. He averts to me, he puts the book on the table his hand clasps mine as he twirls me and belts out the song. The barbecue machine has meat and chicken, the grilling steam covers the entire kitchen.

"Holland, stop it!" I scream, but my brother doesn't take a hint as he dances with me.

"Have a little fun, Asp, your werewolf can wait later." He has a good point, I barely spend time with my family, so I just wiggle my hips goofily as he laughs at me, and we pull away to fill the patties with meat and fries.

I don't realize mom has been watching us until she comes in and slaps us both on the shoulders.

"Get away from the griller, you're going to burn yourselves." Her motherly warning makes us laugh, as she tufts at us to get away before she handles the griller.

I bask in the warm moment with the only family I got, all the while the receding back of someone walking through and the golden curls tells me that it's only the beginning.