Even Up-Nathaniel’s Story

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Poor bastard.

I told him not to try and take her from me. She was mine. Deeper than a ring. Stronger than a vow. She had may mark. My scent. She was more mine than she was ever her mother’s daughter. He never should have tried to stop her from coming to me. From coming back to me. She never belonged to him–was never made from him. I know God created Eve for Adam, from him-out of him.

But mates? It is deeper than any rib. It is your flesh in the outermost form. You, peering into you, definite and resounding. I knew her, before I saw her.  After phasing for the first time? I saw her. She went to my high school, glasses and caramel tone. She was quiet and timid. It was her eyes. They drew me. They sent me. It was her.

I had bumped into her outside her English class, she adjusted her red Jansport backpack our Junior year. I bumped into her because I was late to class, trying to get away from a girl that tried to ask me to take her to Prom. It would be the Equinox, I didn’t need to be out and around her. Lana, her name was. I bumped her, outside the S Wing of our high school. “I’m so sorry.” She said, adjusting her glasses. It was warm outside, but she had a big dark denim jacket. Lips and face bare. Eyes big and brown. I heard her heartbeat. Counted her breaths.

I couldn’t feel my knees and my mouth was dry. She smiled, eyes shiny and bright. If she spoke again, I didn’t know if I would keep my hands off her. It was her. I had only seen her, this exact way, a year ago. I let her pass, and I went to my math class as a lit match. I had her scent. I could find her after dismissal, and never be without her again.

******

What, how did she get around this mark? You can’t remove a mark. You can’t cover it up. I didn’t know how she did, I don’t know how I lost her…or she lost me.

I watched the backyard, and smoked. I smoothed my cut hair, and heard the water from the upstairs shower running. I inhaled again, letting my eyes adjust to the dark around me. I inhaled again, held it, remembering how I held her again. How I made her put her veil on as I reclaimed her body. As I entered her again, on this bed not ours, and demanded she open to me. Reopen for me. I had seen her a week before, and waited for this imposter to leave her.

I exhaled the drag of my cigarette, and licked my lips. I tasted Lana. She was still a fresh and sweet as when she was 16, untouched and open. I pinned her to this bed, not ours, and reclaimed her. With her hands above her head, I looked at her, face unchanged by the almost decade apart. I relished those eyes rolling in back of her head, fluttering and lips quivering. Her wrapped her legs around me, clenched my hands in hers.

I thought about how she looked in her veil. “Keep your eyes open.” I leaned to her right ear, and growled as she came again. I felt the familiar flutter through her, and rushing into me. I felt whatever was broken meld, and shift to bringing us together again. I nipped into her shoulder, all of me incessant and needing all of her.

She couldn’t be a wife if she had a mate.

She couldn’t stay with him, not any more.

 

I stood up, adjusting my jacket and putting out my cigarette on the blue porch railing. I could hear her thoughts again. I knew he would come for me. I  can’t be here one second longer! I hadn’t, I had forgotten how good he tasted. How he felt–and, for a minute. I thought he forgot how I liked it.

She was giggling, oblivious that I had taken her ring as watched her sleep. I never wanted to see the damn thing on her again! Mrs. Lana Kenne was leaving. With me, tomorrow. No note. No nothing. As I went back onto the house, to wait for her again, naked and slick. I walked through the kitchen. Seeing the pen and pad there on the refrigerator, I left the good Doctor Kenne this note.

She’s leaving.

She’s gone.

If I see you again, I’m ripping your throat out with my teeth.

-Nate

 

I went to the staircase, taking three steps at a time. I had to remind myself not to phase, there was no need to be in a protector capacity for her right now. I wanted more of her. I shed clothes by the bed and watched the bathroom door. Delighted she was on the other side of it. I would make her remember that I knew her better than he did. And I knew her well enough that she would let me. Over and over again.

Love & Possession: The Dark Set: (Week 4) BonusWhat Daddy Wanted

The collar on my neck always

Reminds me how far I can go.

How chosen and cherished I am.

How none are as I am to be.

He feels and fills the ripples his

Voice causes once housed

And held in all that he claims

Is, was his.

Does he know that in his taking

Of me, even in thought my mind

Races to please him from wherever

I am?

At his whisper

And then shutting off of

Water I am his warm towel

To drink and dry every drop

Of water graced to flow

Over him…

Until my tastes and senses

Are full of him.

The collar around my neck always

Reminds me how far I can go.

How hard to ride.

How wide to open.

When to clench.

When to just hold

Every inch of him hard and twitching

In my mouth

Or swallow all he contains.

It lets me know, for all my prowess…

I am still beneath him.

As I long to always be.

(c) Janelle Fallon, 4.2019

Her Life On Land

I wish I was not haunted.

In the moving away

From what is, what was, or

What till be,

My heart has ceased to beat.

It is a feeling beyond loss…

Tears that source oceans

Of need, want and the

Discomforting quiet that

No one else can be him.

The ache is beyond the reach

Of reason,

Is impervious to counterfeit.

In the wake of the end,

There is this soft knowing

That none can be him.

In this ocean,

Among the depths swam

And yet to be swum in

This love, born beyond

Time, touched and coaxed

Through every affirmation

And every ‘I love you’,

I never want to come up

For air.

To be torn from him,

These depths become shallow.

Too shallow to breathe as

I had before.

Leaving him in depths

Known only to the him that is us.

Always the us.

As I head towards light,

His eyes follow.

I wish I was not haunted.

-(c) 2019, Janelle Fallon

[image from Wikihow.com–How To Draw A Mermaid]

Snippet 3- With An Heir (Narmon)

I had her.

She was still mine, so close and supple. I knew that the Elders would know she was imprinted wrongly to my brother.  I knew with the death of the Alpha, there would be no one aged enough with the discernment to oppose this. Tzipporah, as an amshun could only be with an Alpha. I am the oldest. I was the stronger of the four of my brothers.  I had been here with mother, and father. I had fetched water, listened to stories and learned how to lead. I knew of the legends of our people, of the land we were birthed out and from.

I knew that there would only one Alpha. Father had been grooming me for this for a century and more. There was an affliction that come over both he and his brother. There was this virus that had killed his brother, my uncle. No one knew what it was, where it had come. I felt kisses along my shoulders. I looked at my walnut brown face in the mirror.  “Lana, please.” I heard a low chuckle along my shoulder. “You always tell me that, I didn’t think you would be so distracted now.” I turned to face her, her ebony skin and dreadlocked hair enticing me all over again. I kissed her, bold and slow. Tasting the inside of her mouth my tongue. I needed the distraction. I needed her. I need not to think. My thoughts kept swimming with thoughts of Tzipporah and how to win her heart again. The fact we were still connected meant I had a chance. No matter now minute, there was still a chance.

I moved Lana against the wall, cupping her breasts as I moved my mouth from hers. Lana moaned as she had nights before. She wanted  not to think as well. Lana had let me read her thoughts, hear them as Tzipporah would never let me. I growled in her ear as she moaned name as I marked her once more. I bit into her neck, licking the wound so it would heal. She yelped as she moved my hand between the wetness of her thighs. Lana grinded into my wrist and I held her against the wall by her left shoulder.

Farron had marked Tzipporah, weakening the bond we had. He was erasing me from her memory, I could feel it. I fought it. I still called to her when she called to me in the vulnerable moments. She would be home soon. She would be mine. Farron would not take her from me again. I scooped her in my arms, kissed her on the way back to my bed, and make the stars witness the ache within me I had to subdue. I lay Lana on the cream colored sheets and she squirmed as I scratched at her thigh. “Please, Narmon. Make the ache stop.” I crawled on top of her, sliding my length inside as she kissed me. “Make the ache stop, love.” I pulled myself from her mouth, and nipped at her bite. I felt her body open and the climax ripple from her ears. Indeed, the ache would be sated for now.

*******

I watched Lana breathe, with her back towards me. I traced her spine with my finger, watched her body recoil. I thought about speaking to the Council about Lana. I knew she was a hybrid. Her mother was human. It was a miracle she had survived as long as she had. When I met her years before, she was betroved to the second son of an Alpha in Zaire. She had run away and been dehydrated when my father, The Second, found her. The Council wanted to kill her because she was a hybrid. I defended her. I loved her then. I had taken her as a Chosen as soon as she was healed. Lana was the closest thing to a true love that I had. This was one of the reasons why I needed to have Tzipporah. My mother had told me there was a way to break the bond. “Dangerous, yes. Impossible, no.” But I needed an Alpha to do that! They were strong enough to channel and shield the energies that would manifest from the breaking.

By right, I was supposed to be the Third. Not Farron. He did not hold father’s hand, his Alpha’s hand as he died. What right did the Council have to usurp millennia of succession and ritual! I was supposed to be the Third, the Alpha. Not the Beta. I was the first born. Tradition said I should be next.

I leaned over and kissed Lana’s shoulder. Her warmth settled me. I closed my eyes, hoping Tzipporah wouldn’t be there again.

Snippet 2-With An Heir (Farron)

I felt him before he called her.

Tzipporah was mine. She had been since we were so much younger. I had phased in front of her. I had marked her. She was mine. Who did my brother think he was. I splashed river water on my face, thought of her cinnamon brown face. I thought of her hair, how she smelled always of jasmine. I though about the night I had counted the eyelashes on her right eye. She was mine.

I remembered the conversation I had with my father the week before. “Farron, I know he is after me. I want you to know the mantle is yours. I know you are the younger, but the mantle was yours.” I remembered how week he had sounded. The age then evident in his voice. I could  only picture him, attended to by his second wife, haunted by visions of my mother, Ariah. He sounded far away as he continued to speak. “Come home son. Come home.” I walked back to my cabin, the hallow, as Tzipporah called it. I wanted her near me.  I wanted the comfort of her body. I wanted her taste, I wanted to be inside her again. I needed her.

I tried to connect with her two morning ago, and I couldn’t get to her. I sent my essence form to her as a comfort.  I knew she could feel my pain. I needed her to know I was okay. The Open Plane was the only place I could have her, keep her safe from Narmon. I had to keep her safe from Narmon. “Not this time!” I felt the wolf inside of me shift and groan. I placed my hands on the ground, felt the heat radiate from my belly and down my arms. I closed my eyes, ready for the wolf to take over. I couldn’t handle the loss of my father, the Second–my Alpha as well as my Chosen.

I knew that Narmon still had attachment to her. I knew that with what she carried she was more  susceptible to that connection. My body began to phase, the hands that caught footballs, and freed slaves became paws. My nose a snout and heard my voice quiet and the growl come from my throat. It was easy to think in this form. It was easier to plan and think when I was hunting. I had noticed a group of rabbits along the other side of the river, and once I was fed. I could think.

******

I sat on the side of the full-sized bed. The bed Tzipporah and I picked out. I thought about the last time we were together. I thought about how ample her breasts were. How sweet her lips were. I thought about how she was on top me, all of me impaled inside her. “Tighten.” I had growled. I kept my right hand on the small of her back. I nipped at her chest. I felt her body open and her release imminent. “Please, love. Please!” With a firm swat on her rump, I heard her sing my name through the walls of this cabin. I knew what Narmon would try to do when we got home. I knew what the elders would say.  I knew that the mantle ritual would take one week.

I stared at light of the setting sun on my feet, still covered in grass and dirt. “Not this time brother. Not this time.”

Snippet 1-With An Heir (Tzipporah)

The Second was dead.

The mantle is was to be passed to Farron was to be made the Third on the next full moon. This was custom for weres of my land. The Second was the Alpha, and had been for a century and more. There was no disease or illness in him. The fact that he was gone from us, so soon, and so suddenly was devastating.

I felt his death, the weight of his loss before my phone rang in my house in Myrtle Beach. I knew who it was before I picked up the phone. I felt rocks settle into my stomach as I picked up the phone in my bedroom. I heard his voice, and all of me roared. “Love.” His voice was low, hungry. I felt heat wrap around me, like his arms were around me. I swallowed. “Narmon.” Silence. I heard him sniffle, and breathe. “What is it?” I forced my eyes open, the warmth of the connection was lulling, dizzing me. I sat on the side of the bed, willing myself to keep breathing. “You shouldn’t be calling me.” He didn’t answer me.

“Tzipporah.” It was a growl then. The same way he growled the first night we were together. The night where he found out I was his, I was his Chosen. The imprinting is always made stronger with lovemaking. I closed my eyes and laid back, the warmth caressing my neck. “You need to come home. You need to be here. You are an amshun.” I felt my eyes water. “The Second is dead. The Third is to be crowned. As the amshun, you need to be a part of the Council.”

I couldn’t breathe. I listened to him go on about the history of amshun, and weres. I heard him plead for me. The tears flowed down into my ears. His voice faded, as my mind went to the Open Plain. I saw Farron, focused on him and his dark skin, and his over six-foot-tall frame. I saw his beard, his gold eyes. I heard his voice louder as Narmon’s faded. “Tzipporah.”

My eyes opened. “Either I am getting you a plane ticket, or I am coming to throw you over my shoulder and bringing you to Nambia.” I stared at the ceiling. “Narmon, I will talk to Farron and we will be on our way. Give me a few days.” There was a low growl. I rolled my eyes. “I need a few days. I’ll be there.” I put the phone on the receiver. I rolled on my left side, closed my eyes searching Farron and the warmth again. I knew who I belonged to. I knew Farron felt what I did. I had no idea if he would confront me about it later.

I knew that he was out at his hallow, he had been since the death of his father. He had left me a note the morning it happened. No warning. No kiss. Just a note. I felt my chest ache. I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t want to see Narmon. I didn’t want to melt in his gold eyes.  I didn’t want him to touch me, see me or feel my presence on the plane.

I had to go home. And I had no choice.