Sex Me Up, Mate

Chapter 1

I’d like being a Werewolf better if my body didn’t feel like it was drenched in acid every time I took a bath, if once a month my body didn’t involuntarily shift onto a sex crazed animal and if the Alpha family didn’t rule with an iron fist.

They say every unmated wolf should have as much sex as possible, at least the first few years after the first shift, I’ve never bothered to question that but for me, random partners on full moons is not how I envisioned losing my virginity. It’s not happening though because I consider my virginity a sacred gift for my mate. I’m the only virgin left in my pack and I can confidently say that I am the most desired she-wolf in the pack.

I’ve heard my innocence drives men crazy, even the mated one, it calls out to them, it’s like a drug, a high they can’t shake off when I’m in heat. I love the power that comes with it, the pecks, the way other she-wolves envy me.

It’s the constant physical pain I get from The Heat and the hectic pressure of having to look over my shoulder to avoid possible rape that I’m not so sure about.

Bones breaking and rearranging to unusual positions where I have to endure the excruciating pain because if I shift while in Heat I’m sending out a message : The Hunt—for my virginity. It’s a challenge, a message, you see, that I’m ready to mate. In fact, you aren’t a real she-wolf if you don’t lose your virginity while in wolf form.

These situations go south fast. Most of the time a couple might talk about breaking each other’s virginity but once a she-wolf in heat shifts, she’s fair game to all.

I’ve witnessed many of those and they always end violently; males fighting until one yields or dies. Forget that there’s plenty of pussy to go round anyway.

But these are werewolves, stubborn in nature, and all of them have a point to prove, an ego to feed, some will prove it, others will lose themselves trying to to prove it.

Me, today, all I'm looking forward to is a nice long run through the dark forests and my bed.

I've had one heck of a day.

But first I have to go through the dreadful monthly task of shifting. It’s a full moon.

I could jump into the lake and swim across the border that will take me home without having to go inside the forest, but I have no energy to deal with the repercussions of water on my body so I shift into my wolf with all the others. There aren’t as many males coming back from work, just about thirty of them, not even a third of the women here. I start the dreaded task of trying to carry my stuff with my teeth, just as the other she-wolves do as well.

It's mid year holidays, a lot of people sitting home doing nothing. I'm homeschooling, self taught, just the same as every other werewolf to have walked each. The only things a wolf needs to learn is how to kill hunters, how to fend for one self and basic finance.

So I’m a waitress in my brother’s restaurant, and my four years on the job have taught me to be vigilant and very careful of my surroundings. I often catch myself staring at strangers, trying to guess their favourite meal by the way they dress.

I haven't been successful, growing up only surrounded by wolves, I’m smart enough to know that all these strangers around me are only interested in raw meat, myself included. Only the wealthy can afford a treat of human flesh.

“After you, princess.”

Oh wow, I hadn't realised that everyone else had left. I’m the only female left along with sixteen other males hoping to fuck me tonight. But why didn’t I see this tall, huge-nosed man standing in front of me in some sort of protective stance.

I quickly look away, partly embarrassed because, you know, you don’t want to be the psycho caught staring at a very naked, ripped man like you’re planning to let him fuck your brains out or something.

I take a panicked step forward. He mimics me. Okay.

“I waited for so long, you’re late today, I might have to deal with your boss if he works you too hard,” he says.

Of course, I’d be a fool not to know who this is. If his big ass nose hadn't given him away, the cowardly stances of the men surrounding me would've. He’s one of the Septuplets, the Third prince. The most feared of the lot. His older brother, the first prince is the Alpha, ruthless in nature. The second prince, is the beta, rumour has it, he’s quite the party boy.

Why the hell is he talking to me? He doesn’t even know me. I’m sure he has a line of servants ready to do his every bidding. I don’t have time to entertain whatever game he’s playing at. I bluntly ignored him.

I groan as I allow nature to take its course. My bones break throughout the shift, until they settle into an enormous wolf. If humans were to see me, they’d know some supernatural elements are at play here. In wolf form I’m as tall as a horse, and as big as a car.

I jump into the forest as fast as my legs can carry me. He follows. Panacchino.

It’s a ten minute run from the opposite end of the forest to my house but if I jump into the lake I can shorten my run by six minutes. I shudder when I think of the pain of water against my skin. He easily keeps my pace. He could mount me if he wanted. The others trail behind, straining to catch up.

I notice he keeps looking at me through his peripheral view. It makes me nervous.

I sigh as the lake comes into view. I contemplate for a second then jump in. My skin starts burning immediately. I hiss. I know the stupid males won’t follow me in. I’m glad it's almost over.

He doesn’t stop, instead he jumps into the water with me and crosses the river with me to my backyard, much to the irritation of the fifteen wolves left behind, looking across the lake, too scared to risk the acidic feel of the water.

Any other day, I’d be annoyed, but ugh, today, he saved me from a fight. I know those stupid horny wolves wouldve jumped on me, if they weren’t in “competition” with him. They’re scared of him, scared of challenging one with the Alpha blood running through him.

He shifts back to human form as I shift and hands me my clothes, smiling. I didn't return it. His smile broadens as if he knows some secret that I don’t.

My house, which I share with my brother, is cold as usual. It’s a two bedroom green house that sits on the hills. There’s a kitchen in one corner, a lounge in the other that’s big enough to fit a sofa, computer stand and an old glass coffee table in the centre. My bedroom is small, and messy. I still have a box of pizza from two weeks ago that I’m yet to throw away. My laundry has been sitting for over a month. For the past week I have been tasked with sorting through it to find the least dirty item of clothing so I can wear it to work.

The fridge is almost empty and isn't exactly appealing, and so is the lasagne my brother brought home from work last night, and so I settle for a muffin and glass of milk and head straight to bed. Hopefully tomorrow will be less straining.

Oh, I almost forgot. I have to call Finn, my boyfriend of three years, that’s if I can even call him that. We both work at THE EAT but I’ve only spoken to him face to face twice this month. Come to think of it, we never had much of a relationship to begin with. I suppose he only stayed with me because he holds on to the hope that one day I’ll allow him between my legs. A false hope. I overheard him a few months ago, speaking to Julie,the girl he’s cheating on me with. He’s actually waiting for me to be the one to break things off, he says, he doesn’t believe in men calling off a relationship because it makes the woman have a bad omen, lies. He just wants to have his cake and eat it too. He called me boring and shallow,I can’t dispute that.