#Like an Early Blooming Flower (Edna)

[talesofourworlds]

"Remember to thank your healers."

"We decide if you bleed out or not."

#ic #Like an Early Blooming Flower (Edna) #Scout Ships Setting Sail (Dashboard commentary)

[litwitlady]

whatever walked there, walked alone - part one

My Halloween fic which I love writing too much to abandon. Content warnings: mentions of child abuse, Alex is dead and not coming back to life, blood, emo poetry.

Michael Guerin exits the city limits and heads west. The sun is beginning to set, framing the mountains in flames of orange and red, painting the sky in purples and pinks. His phone GPS says the house is 13.3 miles from Roswell city center. A scant ten-minute drive.

A few miles later, the ironwork of the property’s fence comes into view. The house is hidden behind several large hawthorn and plum trees, creating a dense canopy that protects the mansion from the blazing desert sun.

Michael parks outside the gate and pulls a bolt cutter from the bed of his truck. The ornate ironwork is buried in English ivy. He clears the vines away and breaks through the chains locking the gate doors, swinging them open. They creak and moan as the rusty hinges strain after years of disuse.

It’s like walking into a dream. Or a nightmare. Another planet, maybe. The desert disappears and suddenly there’s thick grass beneath his boots. Flowers bloom despite the heavy tree coverage and everything green is overgrown. But the house is finally visible – the cornices crumbling, the menacing marble lions shrouded in yellowing moss.

A breeze rustles through the leaves, sending a shiver up Michael’s spine. He feels eyes on the back of his head and spins on his heels. A cat hops out of a maple tree, sending several birds flying from their perches. Michael laughs to himself and turns back towards the house.

Dead, drying leaves are scattered across the stone steps. The giant wood doors are also locked with chains. Michael makes quick work of them and pushes against the splinted oak. But the doors won’t budge. The moisture and heat have warped the wood. So, no matter how hard he pushes, there’s no give. With a sigh he climbs back down the stairs. Vows to come back the next day with the necessary tools.

And maybe not alone.

But as his boots sink back into the grass, he hears the doors open. A thick, musty scent settles in around him. When he glances over his shoulder, the doors are gaping at him like a hungry mouth ready to swallow him whole. The cat dashes past him, through the doors, and he swears he hears his name whispered from somewhere deep inside.

He swallows hard and pulls out his cell phone. But there’s no reception. If he’s being honest, he doesn’t want to go inside. Definitely not by himself. Wants, instead, to head back to Isobel’s and crawl inside his warm bed. Wants to forget this dilapidated old house even exists.

Michael takes several deep breaths, reclimbs the stairs. And then he forces himself to cross the threshold into the darkness.

The foyer floors are filthy. Covered in muck and grime, the black and white checkered marble barely visible. Spiderwebs crisscross from surface to surface, collecting dust and other debris he’d rather not think too much about. The windows are all curtained with heavy, velvet drapes – allowing no light to pass.

Michael runs his fingers along a gilded mirror, eyes catching on a group of picture frames still hanging from the garish floral wallpaper. He leans forward, blowing the dust from the glass. Sneezes several times. The photos show a family. Father, mother, and four boys – the youngest just a baby. In most of the pictures, the father is dressed in full military regalia. His wife pretty and unsmiling. The children with hands in pockets, devoid of that devilish charm so common to young boys.

He begins to notice a pattern as he follows the frames down the hallway. Three of the boys start to grow up – getting taller, shoulders broadening. But the youngest never grows past eight, maybe nine years old. Michael feels a sadness clutch at his heart. Wonders what happened to the little boy. Suspects it’s nothing good. And likely the reason the house has been left to rot for so long.

The cat reappears out of a hall closet. Michael startles and watches him dash towards the curving staircase, bounding up the stairs. He looks back at the front doors, making sure they are still open. The sunlight is entirely gone now. He pulls out his phone and clicks on the flashlight app. Continues further into the belly of the house.

In the kitchen, he finds the cabinet doors all removed – probably stolen by some house foraging flipper – but the bowls and plates left behind. An eight-burner stove takes up a third of the room. The gigantic commercial refrigerator another third. There are two center islands and clearly the kitchen was for catering lavish parties. Michael is unimpressed by the cold austerity of the space and is already mentally remodeling.

He putters through the cabinets and stumbles upon a collection of toddler-sized sippy cups. There are four – each with a boy’s name painted across the top. Clay, Gregory, Flint, and Alex. He reaches up and pulls the one labeled ‘Alex’ from the shelf. The cup is cracked and chipped around the rim. The tiny hairs on the back of his neck shiver, sending another chill down Michael’s spine. He drops the cup onto the floor, the crash echoing down the hallway.

Upstairs the cat screeches.

Michael hears his name whispered again.

And then the doors slam shut.

***

‘The house is haunted, Iz.’ They are at the grocery store, restocking for the week ahead.

She rolls her eyes at him while grabbing more cereal. ‘There’s no such thing as ghosts, Michael. It was just the wind.’

He stares back at her like she’s stupid. ‘There’s no such thing as aliens either. And there was no fucking wind.’

Isobel, hands on hips, stops mid-aisle. ‘The place is a gothic nightmare. It got in your head and freaked you out. The sooner you sell that place the better.’

Intellectually, Michael knows she must be right. But he can’t ignore doors closing on their own and floating voices calling his name.

‘Do you know what happened to the original family? I think their name was Manes?’ He’d pulled the old deed. There wasn’t much to go on other than the name Jesse Manes. ‘I don’t remember them from when we were kids.’

She grabs a bag of rice. ‘Jesse Manes was a General in the Air Force. Served as Chief of Staff to the entire USAF when we were in high school. Really big deal. His kids all went to some military academy on the east coast.’

‘Was? Is he dead?’ He sneaks two boxes of pop-tarts into the cart.

‘Not that I know of. He was dishonorably discharged. Not too long after his youngest son died. Something about an extortion scandal.’ Isobel shrugs her shoulders and turns onto the next aisle.

‘His youngest son? The little boy – Alex.’

She narrows her eyes at him. ‘Alex Manes. Yes. But he was 28 when he died. Killed overseas. Maybe he’s your ghost.’

‘Wait – that doesn’t make sense. That house looks like it’s been abandoned for at least a decade.’ He tries to do the math in his head. Three years might lead to some broken windows and cobwebs, but not the level of decay he’d discovered. The grime on the floors alone would have taken at least twice as long. And the bannister was literally rotting.

‘Don’t know what to tell you. Happened three years ago. I was working with the General on a military fundraising event. And then, poof! He was just gone. Nothing left behind but newspaper gossip. And that house.’ She looks down at her shopping list. ‘I’m going to grab some milk – meet you at checkout.’ She gives a little wave and rolls off.

Michael leans against the row of shelves. Thinks about what Isobel’s told him. He doesn’t know why Edna May Rollings bequeathed the property to him in her will. Or all that money. Sure, he’d mowed her grass a few times – changed her oil. But the Manes property was worth well over a million dollars.

Nothing was making any sense.

*

Later that afternoon, Michael decides to do his own research at the town library. He pulls up article after article from the Roswell Gazette highlighting the many philanthropic endeavors of the Manes family. Jesse Manes often lauded as a hero. His sons all highly decorated military officers themselves.

In all the articles, he only finds mention of an Alex Manes once. In his obituary dated October 14, 2018. The paper mentions he’d been killed by IED while serving in Iraq. There’s a grainy, black and white photo above the obit. Captain Alexander Manes in his uniform, blank expression on his face. And it’s a good face – cheekbones for days, expressive eyes, and a full bottom lip. Michael stops for a minute to admire the handsome soldier and to lament his early demise.

He pulls out his notebook and writes down the names mentioned in the obituary. All of the survivors – mother, father, brothers, distant relatives. Surely, one of them lives within driving distance. If not, there’s always the phone or email. He intends to find some answers.

Michael leaves the library and drives to the Roswell cemetery. The plots are arranged alphabetically, for the most part. And he finds the Manes family relatively easily. Alex’s tombstone is the white marble of fallen soldiers. But there’s no inscription beyond his name or the relevant dates of birth and death. It’s odd not to see a ‘beloved son’ or ‘cherished brother’. He’s beginning to suspect the Manes family buried more than just their son three years ago.

*

The next day Michael heads back to the house. But this time he’s not alone. He’s accompanied by an entire cleaning crew and Isobel. Who merely intends to rifle through the family’s forgotten belongings and steal whatever trinkets catch her eye. And to tease him mercilessly about his ghost.

Michael does his best to avoid everyone. He has his own mission in mind and doesn’t want to be disturbed. The upstairs hallway leads to all the main bedrooms – master on the left and the four smaller rooms on the right. Each of the secondary bedrooms is nearly identical in shape and size. Except for last room – tiny and dark. A single bed compared to the doubles next door. He knows deep in his bones that this was Alex’s room.

A terrific sadness envelops him when he steps inside. He tries to flip the light switch, but nothing happens – the only light whatever sun fights its way through the dirty window.

Michael starts there – wiping the glass clean. He sweeps and mops the floor, dusts the baseboards, and removes the cobwebs. Opening the closet door, he finds a torn cardboard box tucked inside. Pulling back the battered flaps, he discovers several yellowing journals. Pages and pages of scribbled notes and poems and the various ramblings of a teenage boy. He takes the journals to his truck immediately, stashing them beneath his seat.

As the day stretches into night, there’s no sign of any ghosts. No weird noises. No strange whispers. Isobel has taken every mirror in the house among several crystal dishes. Most of the rooms are as spotless as they’re going to get, the smell of bleach giving him a headache. But the place is starting to feel less creepy.

After everyone else leaves, Michael takes one more trip up to Alex’s bedroom. Sits in the middle of the room and waits. For what, he’s not sure. A presence maybe. Which he knows is insane, but something or someone called his name the day before.

The sun is nearly gone. The room is dark and still. That sadness from earlier still pushes at him, but he doesn’t feel afraid. Oddly enough, he feels safe and warm. And then the floor creaks. Not just once. Over and over again. Like someone’s pacing from the window to the bed and back again.

‘Hello?’ His voice sounds scratchy, dry and nervous.

The footsteps stop. Michael’s breath catches as he strains to listen. ‘Alex? Alexander Manes?’ Something blows across the back of his neck. He swallows but stays still.

‘I’m going to bring your journals back. I promise.’ Making a ghost angry is probably a bad idea. ‘I just wanted to get to know you better.’

Nothing happens. And he feels a sinking sense of loss.

*

At Isobel’s later that night, Michael is curled up in his bed staring at Alex’s journals. He’s anxious about reading them. Worries that what he’ll discover is worse than anything he could have ever imagined. Worries that he’ll meet someone in these journals that he’ll come to love. Someone that he’s already lost.

The first journal is marked 2003. It’s plain black with a Further Seems Forever sticker peeling along the spine. Opening to the first page, Michael is struck by how neat the handwriting is. His own is nothing but chicken scratch. But this kid wrote in neat, tidy letters – not a smudge in sight.

July 2003

Today I am a teenager. And I missed mom for the first time in forever. I came home and dad was drinking. Started yelling at me to put his ladder back where I’d found it. But I never, ever touched his stupid ladder. That was Flint. He didn’t care. And now my ribs hurt. Happy Birthday, Alex.

I’ve only been home for two weeks, but I already want to go back to school.

Michael’s fists clench but he continues.

August 2003

Flint got his learner’s permit today. Dad is teaching him how to drive stick. Will probably even buy him a car to take back to school. I fucking hate Flint.

I wrote a poem or maybe a song that I actually like. Here it is:

‘The hallways are empty

And I am blind

Locked in this castle

Where no one is kind’

I know that’s not much. But it’s a start. Been saving up for my guitar. Greg is going to buy it for me once I have enough money.

September 2003

It’s because I’m gay. Why he beats me and no one else. I will try so hard not to be gay anymore.

Tears burn Michael’s eyes. He picks up another journal. This one gray with lots of cartoon doodles marring the cloth cover.

September 2007

Senior year has begun. The Academy finally feels bearable. No upperclassmen to avoid. My fucking dad has me flying out this weekend to interview at the Air Force Academy in Colorado. Fourth son, fourth branch of the military. None of us got a choice, but of course he saved the Air Force for me. Of fucking course.

I snuck out with Maria last week to sing at an open mic night at her mom’s bar. I’ve never felt like that before – enjoying all those eyes on me. Most times I just want to disappear. Forget I exist. There was a guy – curly hair, big hazel eyes. He was beautiful and I worked up enough to courage to talk to him, but he wouldn’t stop staring at Maria. So.

I guess someone at the Pony must have known my dad. Because he was waiting up for me when I crawled back through my bedroom window. I didn’t beg this time. Just let him do what he was going to do. Honestly, I felt like I deserved it. For thinking that guy might actually want to talk to me.

Michael stops breathing. He tries to recall a night at the Pony from fourteen years ago. But he can’t remember ever meeting Alex. He had dated Maria, briefly. Maybe it wasn’t him – maybe he wasn’t the curly-haired, hazel-eyed boy. But the possibility lingers thick in his chest.

December 2007

I’m not going home for Christmas. Even though mom has agreed to show up for appearance’s sake. A perfect fake fucking family. I won’t be missed. Dad laughed when I called and told him. Called me a coward and hung up. He won’t have his favorite punching bag and I hope that means he won’t turn his fists to someone else. Like mom.

Things with Danny haven’t progressed at all. I thought he was flirting with me at the football game, but he hasn’t talked to me since. He’s shy though – kind of like me – so I think I may still have a chance. He’s not going home either – his parents are overseas on some mission trip. Maybe I will be brave enough to kiss him. I’ve never kissed anyone and I’m already 17. Pathetic.

January 2008

Sometimes I look up at the stars

And your eyes look back at me

Filled with the fire of an exploding sun

Sometimes I look up at the stars

And there’s nothing there at all

Just empty space, hollow and undone

So, Danny is dating a townie girl. I’m always so, so stupid. But I’m not giving up on myself no matter how hard this world tries to beat me down. And it’s trying pretty damn hard.

March 2008

Dear Alex,

you are blue and black and yellow

bent and bowed like the dying myrtle tree outside that window

your pliant plentiful petals putrefying in the blades of summer grass

you are unseen and forgotten, disgraced by the midday sun

blown apart like the dandelion waste of suburban landscapes

wilted and wallowed and left without a trace of your own dignity

June 2008

My father’s hands have spent so much time taking. Splitting me open and unthreading the blood, the sweat, the tears of me. Spilling my insides and then stuffing the gore back deep in the darkest recesses of my heart.

I want hands that will take but give something back, leave something behind. Hands that will heal and stitch the splintered parts back together. Hands that will shape the dark edges of me into something bright like hope. I want hands with wings to fly me out of this nightmare.

But instead I’m going to war.

After Alex graduates the military academy, there are no more journals until 2017. Michael spends the next several hours poring over the earlier ones – meticulously kept records of a broken childhood. One abuse after another. Cracked ribs, a shattered wrist, and a never-ending deluge of bruises.

But also, so many dreams. Alex was a hopeful kid, despite the sad poetry, with music in his future. There are pages and pages of songs – the scratching down of harmonies and verses. Intricate details of chord progressions and key changes. Michael grabs his own guitar, strums through some of Alex’s notes. The songs are simple but refined. He wishes he could hear them sung with Alex’s voice.

The 2017 journal stares at Michael from his nightstand. It’s dirty and pocket-sized, bent and beaten at the edges. Caked in blood. He opens to the first page. Alex is in Iraq – the place where he dies – and Michael’s not sure he wants to read further. But he also can’t stop himself.

November 2017

The desert here is different. Hotter, I think. I am always sweating and never clean.  

February 2018

There was a boy. In the carnage. Riddled with bullets. Bullets that may have been my own. I tried to feel something. I did, really. I tried.

March 2018

Only two more months. And then one war exchanged for another. Clay is getting married. I think I’d rather stay here.

The next several pages are stuck together with the dull, brown ink of dried blood. Michael can’t make out more than a word or two through the thick stains, but the entries seem longer and more rambling. The back half of the journal is empty – filled with nothing but blood splatter.

Michael pulls out his laptop. Something about the timeline feels off. Alex’s obit and his tombstone both marked his date of death as October 14, 2018. That’s months after this journal stopped. Months after whatever nightmare caused all this bleeding. He thinks briefly about calling Liz and asking her to ID whoever all this blood belonged to.

He googles ‘Alexander Manes Iraq death’ and nothing obvious pops up in the searches. But on the next page he sees a newspaper article from a Virginia paper, clicks it open. It’s from summer 2018 and includes a list of purple heart recipients. A Captain Alexander Manes among the names.

So, he made it home. Hurt but alive. Michael’s best guess is that he returned to Iraq before his death in October.

He runs several searches for Alex’s brothers. He gets a hit on a Gregory Manes. Local newspaper photo of him with several kids from a science fair. The school is near a reservation in the northwest corner of the state. He jots the information down but decides to start a little closer to home.

People in Roswell must know the Manes family. And so that’s where he’ll begin. Starting with local business owners. First thing in the morning.

#malex #malex fic #halloween fic #whatever walked there walked alone #i am reposting after my hissy fit #i like writing this #i really do #letting autumn come early this year

[zankivich]

Comfort: Werewolf! Shawn x Black OC Witch! AU

a/n: idk why I titled this comfort other than the fact that this just felt so warm to me. In fact I think I use just the word warm like a 100 times in this fic. It just felt right. This is my first OC and I love her with all of my heart so please be kind to her. She’s a little angsty, but she means well I promise. This was so fucking fun to write. I hope you like it. Thank you. k bye. 

WARNINGS: Slur usage (n word), sloooooow burn, she’s girth at 19k words, 

If you want to buy me a ko-fi you can do so here:  I also apparently have a permanent tag list now so let me know if you want that. 

There are some perks to being the alpha in town. The general respect from everyone he came in contact with. The support of his pack, and the whole getting to live with his best friends thing. Even the responsibility of protecting the town filled him with pride, even if it was a lot of work. Besides the perks though there were the caveats. There was the whole, random things popping out of the woods every other week to try and kill him. And then the being responsible for a pack of ten other werewolves in their early twenties who were for the most part, especially the guys of the pack, dumb as all hell. Lastly there were the witches.

Pickering’s history was rooted in something straight out of folklore. Centuries ago, the land used to belong to Shawn’s ancestors, but the witches had arrived and put a hex on the land. They would only remove the hex if they were allowed to stay. There had been whole wars between his kind and the witches until his great-great-great-grandfather had come into power. It was he who struck a treaty with the witches in order to prevent any more death. It didn’t mean that prejudice didn’t continue, and most of the town was extremely segregated. You were either a witch or a wolf, or a human and that determined just about everything for you.

Shawn had grown up with that history, so needless to say witches weren’t exactly his best friends in town. However, he also grew up knowing that his destiny was to one day lead the town. His dad raised him on compassion and leadership with the understanding that their town was a town for all, not just one. Even if it was difficult. Especially if it was difficult. His duty as the leader of the town, as the leader of the pack, was to keep the peace. This was certainly easier said than done, but he didn’t exactly have a choice.

That’s how he found himself on their side of town on a friday night, when he could have been at the bar with his friends, or at the gym, or literally doing anything else in the world. It was his responsibility to check in with their elder, a beautiful old black woman who hadn’t aged a day since Shawn had met her as a child except for her hair that turned a stark shade of silver white. She was the most powerful witch that he’d ever come across, and one of the only ones who he had gotten the chance to truly and genuinely know and respect.

He knocked politely on the door, shoes already in hand, because she had a thing about her floors. The door opened and instead of the very tiny woman with a cane he’d been expecting, a much younger woman stood in her place. She had brilliantly dark skin with even darker eyes to match. Her hair was nearly waist length locs with a part down the side that kept a few of them covering the side of her face. He had an innate yearning to move them out of the way so that he could see her better. Her cheekbones were high and prominent on her face and she wore makeup that made her skin almost shimmer in the setting sun. She was maybe the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“You are...not Edna.” He mumbled looking her up and down.

She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes so quickly it nearly gave him whiplash. His heart squeezed softly in his chest. Wow.

“That the kind of impeccable wit that the town leader is carting around?”

“And who might I ask are you?”

“Girl, stop playing and let that boy in the house!” Edna called from somewhere inside.

He grinned slightly at her stepping into the house and passing slowly around her as she refused to move from the doorway.

Edna was sat in her same chair she always sat in when he came over. It was in her room with all of the glass windows that allowed you to see her garden in the backyard. She sat there a lot, as she was now a little too old to go out every day and tend to it the way that she used to. When he was a kid simply attending his father’s meetings, she used to do something special where she would have him pick a flower that was nowhere near bloom. With a touch of her finger she could make the flower come to life in his tiny hand. He had thought it was the coolest thing ever at the time. She still had him pick flowers every now and again.

“Ms. Edna.” He smiled quickly joining her in the chair across from hers.

“Shawn.” She nodded handing lifting gently to point to the beautiful woman who opened the door for him. “Don’t mind her none. That’s my granddaughter, Athena.”

“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.” He murmured.

“You haven’t. Her mother moved far away from here when she was younger than you are now. Couldn’t handle the way this town treated her. Stopped using magic, ignored her natural born talent.” Edna sighed much to the discomfort of Athena. “Athena here is my successor. That is why I’ve had you come over tonight.”

“Successor?”

“Why yes. Boy, I am old and tired. I can’t keep helping you every time something goes bump in the night. It’s time for me to let go. Athena will have all of my powers and more. She is meant to be the strongest witch this world has ever seen.”

He peered over at her in curiosity. She was leaning her shoulder against the wall, arms still crossed. She wore tattered up jeans and an old band tee. There was this incredibly adorable rose gold hoop ring in her nose. She was gorgeous for sure. But the most powerful witch? He just wasn’t seeing it.

“What can she even do though?”

Athena poked one of her fingers out from underneath her arm and flicked it toward the bookshelf just in time to send one flying towards his head. He rubbed soothingly at his own head where there was sure to be a bump and plopped the book down on the table.

“Wonderful, the next time the town is under attack I’ll be sure to call you so you can book them to death.” He snorted.

Edna and Athena shared a look, Edna shaking her head slowly at her. It wasn’t long before Athena was rolling her eyes and leaving the room with a huff. Shawn mentally added mind reading to her list of capabilities. Oh god, I hope she didn’t hear me call her beautiful.

“I’m sure you two will get along just wonderful.” Edna snorted.

He ran his fingers through his curls and tugged in frustration.

“I don’t think she’s gonna like me much. Are you sure she’s the one?”

“Oh boy, you have no idea.”

He left the meeting with a headache, a little annoyance, and an unfortunate visual of the way the sunset had hit her skin in his mind. Ugh.

***

A few weeks go by before he sees Athena again. It’s a Saturday night and most of the pack is littered around the bar, everyone nursing drinks and having a good time. He was in a really intense game of pool with Brian when the door to the bar opened and everyone sort of froze. It’s hard to describe what a witch smells like. There’s an earthiness to it with a hint of something metallic and something that was just off. Perhaps that's why he didn’t have nearly the reaction of everyone else in the bar, because Athena didn’t smell like that to him. She didn’t smell wrong.

The bar they were at was sort of known as the wolf bar. Some of the humans from town frequented as well, but certainly there had never been a witch in the bar before. Shawn had shared that Edna was training her successor to take over, but no one had met her yet. She was so new to town, and didn’t seem to get out much. She picked a hell of a night to start.

Athena was wearing a jumpsuit that night. It was multi-colored stripes of navy blue, white, and pink, a sharp departure from her ripped jeans. She’d traded her locs for beautiful, tight curls that fell all the way down to her chin. She seemed to get a little prettier every time he saw her. Especially when she was walking up to a bar full of werewolves completely unphased. The bartender that night was Eddy, who happened to have run the bar since his dad’s days. He was more traditional than Shawn liked, and might just be the type to give her trouble.

“Shawn where are you--”

“Hold on a second.” He huffed towards Brian as he headed for the bar.

“Excuse me, I’d like a whiskey on the rocks please?” Athena asked for what must have been at least the second time.

Eddy sneered. “We don’t serve your kind here ma’am.”

“What the entire fuck do you mean, ‘my kind’?!”

“Eddy!” Shawn called alpha mode completely taking over. “Make her a fucking drink, man. Now.”

Athena turned to look at him, her eyes practically sparkling and he almost forgot his own name. She looked absolutely dazzling when she was pissed, and boy was she fucking pissed. Eddy went to make the drink leaving them to just sort of stare at each other. He wasn’t really sure what the right thing was to say here. Yea, we usually don’t serve witches here, but stick with me and I’ll get you in! That sounded fucking terrible even to him.

He placed the drink in front of her and she turned a glare on him so fierce it looked like it should’ve turned him to dust where he stood.

“So, Eddy, is it just witches that aren’t allowed here, or do you frown upon us niggers to?”

Eddy’s face turned bright red at her words. As if to make matters worse she spit into the drink while making eye contact with him and then proceeded to knock it over onto the counter before standing up to leave.

“I’d be careful if I was you Eddy. Wouldn’t want me to get my gang o’ witches to make a soup out of you now would you?”

And then she was gone. And before the door had even closed he was stumbling after her. It wasn’t even conscious. He just needed to.

“Hey! Hey, I’m sorry okay? It’s not even like that. A witch has never even tried to enter that bar since its inception.”

“It’s not like that aye? Whether it’s because I’m black, or because I’m a witch, all you white boys are the same.”

He reaches for her arm and pulls her to a stop. There’s something about her anger towards him that hurts a little bit, makes him uncomfortable. He needs it to stop.

“I do not hate you because you’re a witch. And I don’t hate you because you’re black. I don’t hate you at all, okay? You’re just a little hard to get through to. You have to know that. I’m pretty sure you’re doing it on purpose.”

She tugs out of his grip and puts more distance between the two of them.

He sighed and tried again. “Can I give you a bit of advice? Maybe don’t go terrifying the locals, if you’re gonna take Edna’s place. They need to trust you.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about the locals of this place. I hate it here, and if I had any say at all I wouldn’t even be here.” She snorted. “Any other dazzling advice?”

“Why are you so incredibly angry, huh?”

She just snorted and turned her back on him, quickly heading the way that she came. It didn’t matter how beautiful she looked, or how fucking great her cheek bones were. Shawn had come to a new startling conclusion. Athen was absolutely gorgeous. And he couldn’t fucking stand her.

***

It’s Sunday dinner. Every week his mum made him come back to the house for her famous roast, and to catch up with the family. It had been her caveat to him moving in with the pack at eighteen. They’d kept the tradition up ever since. His dad had never been prouder than when Shawn became an alpha, and had loved nothing more than handing over the next generation of pack lineage to him. He had helped him through his own transition phase, had been there for him every step of the way. A part of him had been scared that his dad might resent him for presenting as alpha so early. When the next alpha presents themself, the current one loses some of their speciality. They begin to age again, lose the abudantant strength while still maintaining the average alpha strength. Eventually his father would stop shifting, and he would just get to live out his life his mum. Shawn would continue on as alpha, at the peak of his youth until he has kids, or until a new alpha arose.

“Smells great mum.” He greeted kissing the side of her cheek as he entered the kitchen. “Got anything for me to test?”

She snorted. “No. It’s hard enough feeding you two as it is. Go help dad set the table.”

She makes enough roast for a family double their size and it just might be enough to feed them. There are potatoes and green beans and rolls. The entire house smells just like it used to when he was a kid. Sometimes he misses it. Especially times like this when he’s frustrated with the pack.

“Edna brought over her granddaughter for tea last week.” His mum notes. “What a lovely young woman.”

He snorted into his potatoes. “That’s certainly one way to describe her.”

“Oh, you don’t like the town’s latest addition?” His dad asked.

“Maybe I would if she wasn’t the biggest asshole I’ve ever met in my life.”

“Language Shawn Peter.”

He rolled his eyes. “She hates the town with a burning passion. I tried to be nice to her even, but it’s pointless. She hates werewolves. She hates me. And I’m supposed to work with her just because Edna says so? That’s ridiculous.”

“Well it’s nice to know you don’t feel strongly at all.” His dad joked.

“Seriously dad. She’s the worst. And she’s only going to cause problems. I’ve worked my ass off to keep the peace in this town, and she walked straight into Eddy’s pub, spit into a drink, and threw it all over the bar. She’s only going to mess things up.”

His dad did a hum that he used to do when Shawn was a child. That hum always meant he was in for some sort of lesson. And never one that he was particularly interested in learning.

“I’m surprised Eddy served her a drink at all. Guy’s a real traditionalist prick.”

“Language at the table guys!” His mum reminded them forcefully.

“Sorry.” They said in unison.

Shawn sighed softly and picked at his potatoes.

“He didn’t. He refused to serve her, and I had to make him do it.” He admitted. “She didn’t know if he was being racist or...witchist?”

“Ahhh, so you can imagine how someone in her position might not be too trusting of us wolves then?”

And here comes the lesson.

“I understand that. But, I stuck up for her didn’t I? I even followed her out to make sure she was alright and she practically spit in my face. If she doesn’t like my town she can get the hell out of it.”

His dad only smiled. “I get how protective you are over this town and its people. It’s was makes you such a great alpha. But I raised you to not see this town as just a place for werewolves. We haven’t been that way in a very long time. The harder you try to fight the witches, the harder time you’re going to have. We share the land now, and if she’s not feeling included here as far as I’m concerned, it's your duty to figure out why and fix it.”

“You want me to fix the rift between the werewolves and the witches? A war that has gone on for centuries?”

“What I’m saying is, you might try to be a little more empathetic. I knew her mother well, and I have a feeling her understanding of this town might be rooted in a lot of pain and a lot of hurt. We owe it to her to try and mend some of that.”

Shawn has absolutely no idea what he means by that. And he knows his dad, so he knows he’s not going to get anything else out of him. He’s on his own on this one.

***

Shawn’s in the middle of doing pull ups in the middle of the doorway to his bedroom when Jasmine and Lily come inside. They were twins, two olive toned gymnasts with bigger leg muscles than him and jet black hair they both always kept braided up. They had been on patrol last, so he figured they were just there to catch him up.

“All good?” He asked.

Jasmine poked playfully at his stomach trying to make him falter in his pull ups.

“Well, we caught wind of a witch actually. But it was about twenty miles out into the woods, and it didn’t seem threatening. Do you want us to go back out?”

He shook his head. “I could use a run anyway. I’ll check it out. Let Brian and Zeubin know just in case though.”

He hops down from his bar and tugs off his shoes, wanting as little clothes to have to worry about as possible. He heads for the garage to fully disrobe, ties his sweats to an ankle with the cord he always carried around with him, and shifts before darting out into the woods. The scent isn’t hard to pick up. He catches it about five minutes into his run. Running is definitely his favorite part of the whole wolf thing. He’s faster than his human form could ever imagine. The wind pulls through his fur, and his sight can catch just about anything that might come his way. It’s the most free he ever feels is when he’s just running through the woods. Just as soon as he picks up the scent is just as soon as he realizes that this isn’t just any witch at all.

He’d yet to figure out why Athena didn’t smell off to him. Why she smelt exactly the opposite. Her scent wasn’t sickening, in fact it reeked of warmth and sun, and something a little sweet. He slows down his running as he comes to clearing in the trees. She’s sitting on the ground, her eyes closed. At first he thought she was just meditating or something. And then the wind began to swirl around her. He felt his fur stand up straight on his back and all of a sudden the trees began to shake around the clearing. Her face grew tight with tension and concentration. The ground shook and her body lifted clear off the ground still in the crossed leg position. He watched as the dirt and leaves began to swirl along the ground as if she was creating a tornado with her mind. It reminded him aimlessly of Edna with the flowers but far, far more intense. Who the hell was this girl?

Suddenly her eyes opened and they were piercingly white, almost like lightning. It made sense because just a moment later the sky opened up to a piercing beam of lightning and a loud crack of thunder that hurt his ears. She let out a blood curdling scream before falling to the ground. The earth all around her became still as her body lie limp on the ground. He was shifting and pulling on his pants before he could even think to do anything else.

She doesn’t come to when he picks her up, and there’s a trickle of blood running down her nose. She must have over done it a bit if the scorched earth from her thunderbolt was anything to go off of.

He carries her back to the pack house in a smooth jog, making sure not to startle her too much. She still doesn’t wake up. When he begins to exit the woods, most of the pack is waiting by the sliding glass doors, easily having picked up her scent. No one else seems to think she smells good. It must just be him. Brian and Zeubin being his Betas quickly step to him as he carries her toward the house.

“What the hell is this?” Brian asked in confusion. “ What’s going on?”

“She passed out in the woods. Go find me a blanket or something. Have Lily make some of that freaky herbal tea of hers.”

“But--But she’s a witch?”

His eyes blaze red and he pauses to let Brian cower beneath the intensity of his gaze.

“And we protect all people on our fucking land, so go get the blanket Brian. That’s an order.”

He carries her into the house and skips the couch entirely to head for his bedroom. He gets her into bed and goes to wet a wash cloth while Brian gets another blanket, and Lily makes the tea. The blood under her nose had begun to dry, so he wiped softly at it to make sure she was done bleeding. Her heart rate sounded fine. Her breathing was normal. But she was completely unconscious.

When it was clear she was going to be out for a while he closed the door to his bedroom and immediately pulled all of the pack into the living room for a meeting.

“What’s going on boss, she okay?” Conner, one of the youngest of the pack asked.

Shawn nodded. “I think she’ll be fine. She was practicing some of her magic in the woods when I found her. She just over did it. We’ll let her sleep it off here and then I’ll get her back to Edna’s. In the meantime it seems we need to have a conversation about what our jobs are in this town.”

He peers over at Brian who thumbs guilty at his nose, eyes downcast.

“If I ever hear a word about one of you denying help to anyone because they’re a witch, you’ll answer to me. Got it?” He snapped.

Everyone nods and agrees quickly not wanting to anger him more than he already has been. Shawn hated being the angry alpha; it felt incredibly cliche to him. But sometimes it was the only way to get them to know he meant business.

“I know that we’ve always kept the peace by letting them do their thing over there while we do ours over here, but we’re the protectors of the town dammit. And that means everyone who occupies it. Tell me you all know that? Tell me I can trust each of you to do that.”

They all stare back at him with open and honest eyes nodding. He trusts them with his life just as they trust him with theirs. It’s the only way the pack will work. It’s the only way they can all stay safe.

He dismisses them all after going over patrol orders for the night, and grabs Lily’s tea before heading back to his room.

Athena was lying on the bed still out cold. He set the tea on the bedside table and took the cloth again to press gently to her forehead. This time when he touched her, she came to although not exactly the way that he would have liked. Her eyes burst open and she lurched forward, her hands coming out to defend herself. One second he was pressing the washcloth to her forehead and the next he was flying back into the wall and landing flat on his ass.

“Shit! Oh my god, are you okay?!”

He grunted lowly, ego taking much more of a hit than his actual body did, and got back up. It’s a good thing he healed super quickly. He had a feeling this one was going to get him into nothing but trouble.

“I’m fine. Although if this is how you thank those that help you, I might have left you in the woods.” He snorted.

Her eyes turned to slits, and just like that her resting bitch face was back.

“What do you mean? How the hell did I end up here?”

“My pack found your scent, and I came to check it out. You were doing some weird shit in the sky and then you collapsed out of nowhere. I brought you back here to let you rest.”

“Oh how kind of you.” She sneered already pulling the blanket off of her body.

“I thought it was extremely kind of me actually! Especially considering how big of an asshole you are to me on a daily basis.”

“Perhaps it wouldn’t be on a daily basis if you stopped showing up everywhere I am all the time!”

“And just what do you suppose would have happened to you if I left you there?!” He yelled back at her.

She rolled her eyes. “I would have been fine! I can protect myself and I don’t need your fucking pity, alright?!”

The alpha in him didn’t do particularly well with being challenged. Even the human part of him was pissed. She seemed to have a particular talent for making his fucking blood boil. So he could feel that part of him lurch towards the surface and his eyes turn red as she managed to make him madder than any other person he’d ever met. In that moment he hated her. Let his father’s lesson be damned.

“You are the most stuck up, evil,  self-centered witch I have ever met in my life! I should have left you there to electrocute yourself . You think you’re so fucking strong, but you’re just dense! No one can do it alone. Not even you! Has Edna taught you nothing?!”

“You shouldn’t even let her name come out of your filthy mouth! What I learn and what I do has nothing to do with you!”

She makes him angrier than he can even stand. He was a seasoned alpha at that point, had far learned to master his emotions and to reign it in when necessary. But she just kept pushing, kept digging, kept hitting at him. He had never experienced anything like it before. It’s not until he’s growling at her and he feels the familiar stretch in his bones that he realizes he’s on the cusp of shifting. He hadn’t shifted out of sheer anger since he first turned. She drove him absolutely mad.

“Get out! Get the fuck out!”

The lights flicker and her jaw is set on edge. They absolutely despise each other and nothing is ever going to change that. When he yells at her her hands come up in front of her as if she wants to choke him. Instead she wreaks havoc on his room instead. His lamp flies and smashes into the wall in a similar fashion to the way his body had earlier. All of the books on his book shelf fly off and the glass to his sliding door that leads to balcony shatters as she let’s the room have all of her frustrations. She opens the door with her mind and practically glides out of the room.

Zeubin and Brian are there waiting, peering into the room where all of his shit is destroyed. After the speech he’d given about protecting witches, reasonably they’re a bit confused as to how to proceed.

“What do we do?!” Zeubin asked peering anxiously from the hallways and back to Shawn.

“Nothing. Just--Just leave it. I’m going for a run.”

He brushes past his friends not even hesitating to shift the moment he’s outside, sweatpants bedamned. He needed to get her out of his system, to get her smell off of him. She made his blood boil. He was filled with anger and disgust and hurt. And he just had to get away.

***

*Athena’s pov*

She stormed into the house with a fury. Her heart hasn't stopped racing since she left his room. She was absolutely livid. The door slammed so hard it rattled on its hinges. And her grandmother was not having it.

“Girl! Whose door is you slamming?!” Edna called. “Come in here!”

She sighed, feet dragging as she slumped into her room. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to go back to before she had even decided to come to this stupid ass town.

Her grandmother takes one look at her and all of the anger melted from her face. She was an empath, among all her other great powers, and it meant she had an innate ability to feel and understand what she was feeling.

“Child come sit. What is going on with you?”

She crawled into her bed in defeat, head immediately falling into her lap.

“I just can’t do it mama.” She sighed. “I can’t be what you are. I can’t find any love for this place. Not after everything they did to my mom.”

There are tears of pure frustration in her eyes, and Edna reaches to tug up at her chin.

“Now wait just a second. What happened? Start at the beginning.”

“I was in the woods practicing just like you said! And I guess I...I might have over done it. I passed out. And that damn man found me.”

At this, Edna chuckles.

“Mama, it’s not funny!”

“Shawn? Shawn found you?” She asked. “Child, this whole you against the world attitude causes you nothing but strife. Please do explain to me how that man helping you caused you to slam my damn door?”

Athena rolled her eyes. “He called me evil. Self-centered. Dense. I’ve never hated someone so much in my life.”

“Girl… you are fighting the inevitable here. This is your destiny. I know it is scary, and I know it is overwhelming, but that is not going to stop it from happening. Now I want you to cry when you need to, want you to scream with all your might when you need to, but it will not change what you are to become. You are the strongest witch this land has ever seen. You will rise to power, and with that power will only come the responsibility of protecting this town and the people in it. And I am sorry to burst your bubble, but you will have to work with him to do that. It is his destiny just as it is yours. You are meant to be.”

Athena tucked her head softly into her grandmother’s arms as few tears ran down her cheeks.

“They were so awful to her, mama. She used to tell me all these stories of the way they treated her and daddy.How ugly they all were. Why should I take care of any of them. They think the same of me. It’s all the same kind of hate.”

Edna settled her fingers into her hair and detangle the strands mindlessly to soothe her.

“So much can change in a lifetime baby. I know even better than your momma how hateful these folk can be. Nothing they said to her they didn’t say to me. She just got it worse because of your daddy. But, something changed with the Mendes lineage a few centuries ago. They stopped caring about power and cared more about peace. And the result has been that with every generation they preach less and less of that hate you’re talking about. Shawn, bless him, is the kindest one I’ve ever known. Takes after his daddy. When he was a little boy, he used to keep his fangs hidden because he was afraid of scaring people. He was more interested in sitting out in my garden than rough housing. He ain’t got a hateful bone in his body. He just loves this town and he wants to take care of it.”

Athena hates when her grandmother is right. And her grandmother is always right.

“I can’t read him.” She mumbled glumly. “I can feel his emotions, but I can’t tell what they’re stemming from. I can’t tell anything. It’s so frustrating.”

“Hmmm, you could always ask him.”

She snorted. “Sure, mama. After I just went all Carrie on his room, i’m sure he’d love to sit around and braid each other’s hair and talk about boys.”

“Well, I’m sure an apology would go a long way. You’ll figure it out.”

She wasn’t so sure she would.

***

*Shawn’s point of view*

He’s at the shop when he gets the call. Couple hiking in the woods mauled by a bear. Brian and Zeubin meet him out there. The police have the crime scene taped off, but he’s let under immediately. It takes one whiff to know it’s not a bear. It’s a wolf but he doesn’t recognize the scent, which means everyone is immediately on high alert. The fact that one of them survived is good because it means they can question him. But, it only takes one look at his face when he realizes his wife is gone to know that there’s nothing good about any of this.

His name was Cole Patterson. He and his wife ran one of the general stores in town. They were good people. He grabs tightly at the man’s hand as they wheel his gurney towards the ambulance.

“We’ll find who did it Mr. Patterson. I swear to you. I’ll make it right.”

But his face is so swollen that in conjunction with the tears, he doesn’t get much of an answer. It hurts his heart. And with the sadness comes the innateness to protect, to defend. He just hated seeing others in pain. And it was his job to fix it.

“What do you want us to do?” Zeubin asked.

He took a deep breath to steady himself. “Run along to the house. Fill the others in. I want round the clock patrols starting now and want the perimeter expanded fifty miles. We’ll meet first thing in the morning and figure out our plan of attack. You see anything in the woods and you don’t attack. Go the hell home. I don’t want anyone else getting hurt.”

His betas nod before running off to follow his orders. He sticks around to gather more information from the police in the hopes that it might help the pack. He knows it’s his duty to alert the elders to the situation, so his first stop is to Edna’s, and he’s hoping and praying that the stuck up wicked witch of the west had hopped on her broomstick for the night.

It’s raining, so by the time he gets there and shifts back he’s soaked to the bone. He only has enough time to share what he knows with Edna. He needs to get back to the pack, needs to protect his people. She’s sitting on her porch in her rocking chair waiting for him, so he assumes it will be an easy meeting. How fucking stupid of him.

“So, we’ll be running patrols twenty-four seven. Do you think you could make a protection charm for the part of the woods where the attack happened. If it’s a wolf it’s probably going to return to the same place.”

For a moment she just rocks softly in her chair and peers up at him with those eyes of hers he used to be completely mesmerized by as a kid.

“I won’t be helping you this time, Shawn.” She finally murmured.

“What? What do you mean?”

“This is Athena’s time. That’s why this is happening now. It is her test to see if she can handle her powers.”

Oh for fuck’s sake.

“You have got to be kidding me! Edna, I do not have time for your granddaughter to ‘test her powers’ when my people are dying.”

She smiled at him. “They are her people too. She will help you.”

Edna wasn’t one to get angry at. Mostly because she could kick your ass with a wave of her hand. But also just the respect that she had garnered over years and years left him slightly whiny and beggy.

“Listen. She hates me. And that’s fine because now I sort of hate her too. There is no way in hell I can work with her. She hates my kind, and she hates this town. I can’t trust her to protect it. I need you, Edna.”

He’s a little desperate. The town wasn’t just full of wolves. In fact the vast majority of the town was made up of humans with a strong united pack to make sure that everyone was safe when shit went bump in the night. Especially the supernatural bumps in the night. The thing that made a good alpha was recognizing that one needed the help of his fellow pack members, and even other supernatural folks, to be at his best. He’d learned that lesson the hard way when he was younger and more cocky and stupid. But the truth of the matter was magic had kept the entire town safe for centuries now. And he wasn’t about to switch things up when lives were at stake.

He’s about to fall to his knees and just beg Edna to do the fucking charm when the door opens and out she walks. This time her hair is tied up with a scarf, dozens and dozens of tight little curls spilling out from a ponytail high up on her head. She’s in jeans again and a leather jacket and boy does he fucking wish it didn’t do anything for him. He can’t help but notice the skip of a beat in his heart that surely isn’t rage or hatred. And that’s the worst part about all of this.

“I’ll do it.” She said. “I can do it. Just show me where it’s at.”

He raised a pointed eyebrow and settled his hands on his hips.

“And I’m supposed to believe that because? Last time I saw you you told you hated this town and everything in it.”

She rolled her eyes as if he was the over dramatic one and twirled an umbrella in her fingers.

“Look I don’t have time to argue with you. Either I can make the charm and help your ass or not. It’s up to you.”

He stared at her in disbelief. And then at Edna who only smirked at him. This family was going to drive him fucking insane. No doubt about it. But he needed the damn charm.

“ Fine. But that umbrella is going to do you no good. I’m going to have to carry you.”

“Excuse me? I’ll drive.”

He felt his muscles tense and perhaps the first headache he’d had in months descend upon him too.

“It’s in the middle of the woods on a hiking trail. A car is not going to get you there. And a car can’t move as fast as me. You’re just going to have to get a little wet.”

It’s Athena’s turn to stare at her grandmother in disbelief. Her smile never shifts.

“Well you’ll just have to wait while I go cover my hair then.” she snorted.

“Excuse me?! Did you miss the part where someone died!”

“Calm down white boy. Damn. So dramatic.”

Fucking. Insane.

***

The rain makes a real mess of things. It’s muddy and dark and if he didn’t have incredible vision they’d probably be fucked. She’s surprisingly quiet throughout the entire walk and doesn’t even complain when he has to pick her up. It’d different than the last time he saw her. The energy surrounding her isn’t nearly as hostile and aggressive. In fact it kind of seems more like she’s thinking than anything else. The usual look of disgust isn’t even present on her face. Not that he’s looking at her face or anything. Because he isn’t.

So they walk and he holds her and it’s just the world of trees and greenery and rain around them. It’s ten times better than her fucking up his room and yelling at him.

“What are you thinking about?” He chanced readjusting his grip on her as he steps over a fallen tree.

She’s got a bright ass raincoat on and he’d go to the grave willingly before telling anyone that she looked cute in it. Because she doesn’t. She absolutely doesn’t.

“I can’t read you.” She mumbled from beneath her hood. “And I find it very annoying.”

“So you can read minds?”

She shook her head. “Nah boy, what am I Edward Cullen? I’m an empath. I can feel the emotions of those around me. I can usually get a really good sense of what those emotions are stemming from though. Like when mama is angry I can sense what her anger is in reference to. I slammed the door a couple of weeks back and I knew that that was what her anger stemmed from before she said anything. It gives me a really good understanding of people which is really all empaths are. When my power expand I’ll be able to infiltrate people’s feelings, make them feel what I want them too. With you though….I can sense the emotions but I never have any idea what they mean.”

“Why is that?”

“I don’t know. I have a sense that mama knows why but she’s not telling me for some reason.”

Edna had a history of knowing all and purposely letting you figure it out all on your own no matter how frustrating it might be. Shawn could imagine.

“Well, what am I feeling right now?”

“You feel...calm. But when you showed up at the house you were scared. You were in pain. You felt sad. Why are you calm now?”

He peered down at her as he walked. Her eyebrows were furrowed. She looked at him with genuine concern. It compelled a certain level of honesty that he never thought he would share with her.

“I feel most myself in the woods. Well besides from when I’m in wolf form anyway. I can’t really explain it. The earth and the trees and everything? It’s just always felt like home. I used to spend all my time out here even as a kid.” He explained. “It kind of helps that you’re not throwing books at my head this time around.”

Her fingers tighten slightly in his damp t-shirt.

“Yea… I uh I am sorry about how I reacted. You were just trying to help me and I was just really scared when I woke up. I--I had no idea where I was. And I was very frustrated that I wasn’t able to defend myself. Doesn’t matter. Still sorry.”

He feels incredibly tongue tied. Never in a million years would he have guessed that she would apologize let alone seem so sincere when she did it. It was like talking to a completely different person. A person he might actually be able to stand.

“I can understand that,” He spoke slowly. “I can’t imagine waking up with no idea where I am, and then my big dumb face is staring back at you. Might scare anyone.”

She laughs. And it...it nearly stops his heart. He can’t even explain the way that it makes him feel, so he hopes she can’t tell either. Whatever it is, it’s like a light. Like they’re moving through the big dark forest, but the second that she laughs the sun might as well appear. It’s like warmth and light and something pure. He’s left completely dumbfounded.

“Big, yes. Dumb, no.” She snorted. “I’ll be sure to get you a new lamp though. My bad.”

He keeps his mouth shut just in case he says anything stupid. Before he knows it, they're at the clearing to the trail where the attack took place. He lets her down off his arms and she moves to take in the scene before her. She pulls a jar out of her raincoat and walks slowly and methodically around the space sprinkling something along the ground as she whispers s beneath her breath. When she comes back to the space that she started a bright light emits from the ground and forms a circle around the space. It disappears soon after and then she puts the jar away and skips back over to him like nothing even happened.

“That’s it? It’s just safe now?”

She nods. “No evil energy will be able to penetrate it. Scouts honor.”

The thing about magic, and about witchcraft, was it wasn’t his area of expertise. All he could really do most of the time was trust that Edna was telling him the truth. And when it came to Athena, when it came to all of the things she’s said to him and yelled at him? Still all he was left with was a choice. Either he could trust her, or he could not.

“Okay.”

That was the night he decided to trust her.

He led her back down out of the woods. Instead of carrying her, they walked. In spite of how much slower it was, in spite of him having places to be, and commands to give. He walked alongside her in the woods. And he couldn’t explain what was compelling him to be alright with these circumstances. All he knew was that when she said she’d rather walk, he simply followed alongside her. And that was it.

“Can I ask you something?” She murmured arms in her big puffy raincoat and eyes completely on the ground trying to make sure she didn’t fall.

He nodded. “Sure.”

“The pain that you felt earlier? That fear? Where did it stem from?”

He lets his fingers graze her elbow to lead her over a rock so that she doesn’t trip.

“A woman died tonight.”

“Did you know her?”

“No. Not really. I mean knew of her the way that I know everyone in this town. But she was mine to protect nonetheless. I failed her tonight. And I failed her husband. And I failed all of her loved ones. The least I can do is mourn her death, don’t you think?”

She peers up at him from beneath her hood. Even in the dark he can read her eyes. Confused. Curious. It was like she was looking for something within him she couldn’t find. And he wasn’t sure what it was, or why she couldn’t find it.

“My mama...she says you don’t have a hateful bone in your body. She thinks you love this town more than anyone. Is that true?”

He chuckled softly. “I don’t know about that. I can get very angry sometimes. It’s the alpha in me. I try my best not to be hateful though. This town it...it’s all that I have. It’s all that I am. My genes, my lineage, it was all created so that I could protect all who occupy this land. I love it here. I know it’s got its problems, and I know it hasn’t always been the greatest to your family or to other witches. But I’m trying to change that. I’m trying to take care of everyone here, Athena. Not just werewolves.”

She nods softly and goes back to staring at the ground. They don’t talk for the rest of the walk, but it’s okay. They’re sort of okay.

***

“We found the scent about thirty miles west and followed it. It cuts off through the Ottawa river, and we lose it there. We tried moving to the other side, but we got nothing.” Conner explained.

“Okay. We’ll make a visit to the next pack over city limits. I’ll take Jasmine and Zeubin with me. If we find out it’s not one of theirs then we regroup and we prepare as if we’re under attack. In the meantime, we continue with round the clock patrol. I’ll meet with Edna and Athena to make them aware and ask if they can help us at all.”

Everyone nods and breaks off to their respective tasks. The town hadn’t see any trouble in quite a long time. A lot of people thought that was a testament to Shawn's leadership. He wasn’t that naive. He thought he’d just managed to get a little lucky. After All the best way to manage the way an alpha led his back was in times of difficulty not peace.  

It’s a two day trip to get there and back. He doesn’t want the neighboring pack to get scared by their presence so he only takes two of them with him. He also needs Brian back at home to watch over everyone and everything. And nothing against the kid, but he wouldn’t want to leave anyone in charge of his pack for more than two days. This was his main reason for stopping by Edna’s again. It’s definitely his only reason too.

Athena opens the door. She’s got her hair in that pineapple shaped ponytail again. The real difference this time is that she’s in a sweatshirt and leggings with no makeup on. She looks soft and warm. He completely forgets everything that he came there for. And it’s even worse because Jazmine and Zeubin were right behind him, and she’s staring at him a little bit like he’s crazy. Maybe he is.

“You were feeling fine a second ago. Determined. Now you feel overwhelmed. What’s wrong?” She asked.

“I….Uh--Sorry! I just um. I forgot what I was gonna say for a second.” He chuckled. “Can I talk to you and Edna?”

“Sure. Yea, come in.”

He catches them up on everything that he knows. Even he doesn’t notice but he spends the majority of his time talking to Athena. And she spends all of her time making eye contact with him. It’s clear to everyone in the room that something has shifted. There’s no longer a hatred in the room. It’s something different entirely. By the time they’re caught up, and it’s time to leave, he pulls her to side for a second just to check in separately.

“What’s up?” She asked softly.

“I need you to do something for me, if you wouldn’t mind?”

“What is it?”

“I just...I need you to keep an eye out while I’m gone, please? Just make sure nothing happens?”

Her eyes widened. “Me? Why not mama?”

“Because you’re supposed to be my point of contact now right?” He asked reaching for her arms. “ Don’t worry. I trust you.”

“You do?”

“I do...I haven’t quite figured out why yet. But, I do. You can feel that though can’t you?”

She scrunched her face up slightly as she peered at him in bafflement. He wondered if he could read her emotions if that would be all she ever felt towards him.

“I can. Okay I--I’ll keep an eye out.” She agreed.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He smiled at her.

“Thank you.”

*Athena’s point of view*

“You’re pacing.”

Athena rolled her eyes. “I’m not pacing I’m just thinking.”

“Well then you’re pacing and you’re thinking. Girl, what is the matter with you?”

Athena paused in her nonstop path of circles that she’d walked around her bedroom to peer at her friend. Taylor was the only friend she’d made thus far in the tiny town. And it was a hundred percent because she was black and a witch too. They had to stick together in this crazy ass town. Taylor was also born and raised in Pickering and was kind enough to give Athena background when she needed it. Although she had a feeling she wouldn’t be able to help this time around.

Taylor lied in the middle of her bed, locs long and neatly spread out across her bed, as she stared at her like she was crazy.

Athena rolled her eyes. “I’m just...I’m trying to figure out what the hell to do.”

“About?”

“Shawn asked me to look over things while he was gone. I promised. And now I have no idea how to actually do that seeing as how I have zero contact with the pack.”

“Wait wait wait...Since when did you make promises to Shawn Mendes of all people? I thought you hated his guts?”

Athena paused. “I did. I--I do! I...I don’t know!”

“I can’t believe you’ve let me sit here for over an hour watching you walk around like a crazy woman when you had tea to spill. Sit down.” Taylor exclaimed.

She doesn’t really know how to explain, or what to explain. She didn’t quite get it herself. After her talk with Edna, she had decided to head her advice if only to save herself a little frustration. She had zero intentions of trusting Shawn, or anything beyond being cordial enough to get her job done. And then she had talked to him. And he just wasn’t that fucking bad. She kept looking for signs of the rhetoric her mom used to tell her about,  a sign of anger or hate or rage in his eyes. It wasn’t there. His eyes were unbelievably kind. And everytime she read his emotions she couldn’t find any ill intent once so ever. Add on top of that his willingness to share and be open with her, when she’d been nothing but awful to him, she had found herself in a bit of a conundrum.

“I don’t know what it is Tay, I just...something in my gut is telling me he’s not bad. And mama trusts him with her whole heart. I can feel that. And he trusts me. Like really fucking trusts me. Something is telling me to trust him back.”

Her best friend squinted at her and let her legs flop aimlessly around the bed as she thought.

“And this has nothing to do with him being the hottest man this town has ever seen right?”

“W--What?!”

Taylor chortled. “I’m just saying. If that man carried my ass through the woods and made small talk, I’d trust his fine ass too!”

“I hate you. I am never talking to you about anything again.” Athena grumbled.

“Oh don’t get your panties in a bunch. I was just kidding. So, we going over there or what?”

“Tay what in the hell are you talking about?”

Athena watched as Taylor slid off the bed and walked to stand in front of her friend.

“He told you to keep an eye out on things right? You have no contact with his pack. So wouldn’t it make sense for you to go to their house and get some more information?”

“You want me to walk directly into the lion’s den after I smashed their alpha’s shit to pieces and ask them for what? The hot gossip? Girl is you out your damn mind?” Athena snorted.

“It’s the only what you’re going to get any info! And if Shawn trusts you, they don’t have a choice anyway. That shit’s like sacred. What the alpha says, goes. Kinda hot, tbh.”

Athena let her face fall into her hands. “Oh lord.”

Taylor simply laughed. “C’mon. You don’t wanna let your mans down now do you?”

“He is not my mans!”

“No of course not! I absolutely believe you.”

Athena made a mental note to get some new friends.

***

“You are going to get us killed!” Athena hissed as Taylor knocked loudly on the door.

Taylor snorted. “Girl you are the strongest witch in all the land. Let these wolves know.”

Jesus.

The person who answers the door is actually a woman with olive toned skinned and long black hair that hung loosely in a braid. She was like seven feet tall and absolutely gorgeous. Both women found themselves a little baffled at her very presence. Truly a magical specimen she was.

“Can I help you?” She asked at their dumbfounded expressions.

Athena tried to smile. “Hi. I’m Athena.”

“Yea, I know who you are. You threw my tea with your mind and broke my favorite cup.”

Great start.

“Ahh...Well I am so very sorry about that. I would happily get you a new one.” She assured her. “I’m here actually because Shawn sort of asked me to keep an eye on things while he was gone. But I don’t really know how to do that without talking to you all. And I know I’m probably not super well liked here, so I thought I might come and try and set things off on a better foot.”

The beautiful woman tilted her head and stared down at her with hazel eyes that were just the right side of threatening. They were so different from Shawn’s eyes it was almost unrecognizable to her.

“You want to help us?” She asked. “Why?”

Athen huffed a little. “Because it’s kind of my destiny. Or so I’m learning.”

Somehow, someway, she lets them in. And it’s not like a dungeon or anything. It’s just a house. The woman, Lily, was sitting on the couch watching Stranger Things and eating cereal. One of the younger ones, Connor was his name, was swiping through tinder matches and pretending to watch the show with her. There’s no attack, no name calling, no anything. And it’s so incredibly disorienting. It feels completely different than everything she ever knew. Athena wasn’t sure whether to feel elated or disappointed. She didn’t really know how to feel about it at all.

***

*Shawn’s point of view*

Jasmine and Zeubin crash into the house like zombies, completely ready to fall into their beds and sleep after the long journey. Shawn on the other hand knows he has to stay on his feet just a little longer. He heads for Brian’s room first once he’s sure that the house itself is still intact. His beta and subsequent best friend was still asleep, but jolted awake as Shawn plopped down on his mattress.

“Shit, dude, I hate when you do that.” He groaned.

Shawn snorted. “Nice to see you too, bud. We’re back if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Mazel tov. Can I go back to sleep?”

“No, jackass; get up. We visited the pack. They had no clue what we were talking about. None of their wolves have gone rogue, and they have no signs of any attacks on their land. We need to be on our best defense. Now what the hell happened while I was gone?”

“Absolutely nothing. We did the round the clock patrols just like you said. Never found the scent again, or any other scent for that matter. Plus your witch friends were here, so even if they were out there they probably got scared off.” Brian snorted.

“Witch friends? What witch friends?”

He rolled his eyes and settled back into his bed. “That Athena chick brought one of her friends over here. Said you told her to keep an eye out on the place. Like you didn’t trust me or something.”

“She came here? To the house, in front of you all?”

“I thought it was pretty ballsy of her too. Lily seemed to get a kick out of her though. You could ask her.”

“Hmm...I’m going to take a nap and then I want everyone’s ass in the living room to plan at noon got it?”

“Yes dude. Please. Sleep.”

Fucking Brian.

***

*Athena’s point of view*

She’s in the woods again trying to channel her powers the way that Edna had taught her. Some days it’s easy and some days it isn’t. Today in particular had been incredibly frustrating. Athena had never worked much with her active powers. Her mother had been purposeful that way. When they moved out of Pickering, she wanted to pretend to be normal. So except for the summers when her mama came to visit, she never really got to use them. It was easy to be an empath, that happened no matter what. But, Edna had assured her that she would have powers that she couldn’t believe. She just had to practice.

And that’s where he finds her. Sitting in the middle of the forest like an idiot. She hears the  break in the leaves and immediately turns with her hands up in case she needed to defend herself.

“Hey, I come in peace!” Shawn called.

She sighed and let her hands drop.

“What are you doing here? You scared me.”

His long legs take him to her in far greater strides then he had any right to be able to do. Before she knew it he was standing in front of her.

“I’m sorry. I went to your house but Edna said I could find you here.” He smiled at her. “Long time no see.”

“It’s been two days.” She snorted. “How did things go with the other pack?”

He frowned. “Not great. It wasn’t them. The pack is making plans of defense as we speak. I just want us to be prepared. It might be nothing, but it might be something.”

“Is there anything we can do?”

He eyed her for a second, a smile still plane on his face.

“You’ve been doing a lot lately. I heard you braved the big, bad wolves while I was away.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “You all are not that tough. It was fine. No biggie.”

“You went to a place that I know you don’t like just to check in on my pack. I take that very seriously. That means a lot to me.” He told her reaching for her hands. “Thank you, Athena. I mean it.”

She peers down at his hands and then up into his eyes. She can feel the excitement in his veins, and she can feel a little confusion, and something softer...softer like endearment. It’s cloudy because he doesn’t know what it is he’s feeling, which means she can’t see it either.

“You’re welcome.” She murmured. “If i’m being honest it was a lot for me. I didn’t think they’d even open the door after the last time.”

“You’re fine. They know it’s not that simple, they understand the history. You’re allowed in that house whenever you want. Anyone ever gives you trouble they can answer to me.”

It’s a little aggressive, a little… braggadocious. Suddenly Athena gets a random flashback to Taylor’s obnoxious laughter about Shawn’s attractiveness. She bites her lip a little bit.

“Okay. I’ll make note of that.”

“So, what are you doing out here in the middle of the woods again?”

Her shoulders slumped. “Being the worst witch of all time, really.”

“I highly doubt that. You’ve kicked my ass enough times. What’s the matter?”

She groaned in frustration. “My active powers aren’t fucking activating. Mama says I just need to practice more but I’ve been practicing for hours and nothing is happening.”

“You’re probably just overthinking it. Obviously it’s different but when I was trying to shift for the first few months it was hell. I got so worked up about it and didn’t allow my instincts to just take over. You should get away from it for a while.”

“But this is all I have to do.” She whined. “It’s not like I have a job here, or any commitments. I’m just supposed to be training.”

He smiles at her again. It frustrates her. She can never understand when he gets these random bursts of happiness for no reason. It doesn’t make sense. And she can’t read him enough to determine what it is.

“C’mon.” He said reaching for her hand to tug her along.

She raised an eyebrow. “Boy, where are you taking me?”

“To fucking relax. You’re gonna give yourself a stroke before you turn thirty at this rate.”

“And what makes you think I want to relax with you?”

He turned back around to her, hands still pulling her with him as he walked backwards with the cockiest grin on his face. There’s no reason it should’ve made her heart react the way it did. No reason at all.

“You haven’t sent me flying yet, that’s why.”

He took her to a diner that she’d never been to before. Apparently he was a regular though because the entire place greets him when they walk in. He’s even got his own booth. It’s ridiculous. She went to take her jacket off and he was suddenly right behind her tugging at the shoulders of the jacket to help her out of it. From anyone else it would’ve caused indifference at best, and annoyance at worst. So, why in the world does she smile? And why in the hell is he being so nice to her in the first place? Why does she have zero interest in hating him anymore?

“This place has the best mac and cheese in the whole damn country. I’m sure of it. You must try it.” He said pointing the dish out on the menu.

She rolled her eyes. “What do you know about some mac and cheese, white boy?”

“I’m a white boy with the stomach of a wolf. You’ll love it. Trust me.”

And that’s the most ridiculous part of all of this. She does trust him. Almost endlessly so. Maybe not in his ability to determine what some good ass mac tasted like, but with just about everything else. She doesn’t realize until he’s telling her a story of him confronting his childhood bully after he presented as an alpha, that she’s completely forgotten about her powers. Hell she’d forgotten about being a witch entirely. And if the wolf part hadn’t been central to his story, she wasn’t so sure she would’ve thought about that either. For the first time since she’d entered that town it wasn’t about magic, it wasn’t about the greater good, or her “destiny”. He was just treating her like a person. Like a friend even.

“So you just straight up attacked his ass, aye?” She snorted.

He laughed. “I wouldn’t say attack. I would say...spook. I spooked him a little bit. Hey, I went from this lanky unpopular kid who hung out in gardens and shit to complete lean muscle in a summer. Jackass had it coming for how often he used to make fun of me.”

“Poor baby.”

“Yea, well I’m doing just fine nowadays, if you hadn’t noticed.” He pointed out waving a hand over his general physique.

Her eyes widened. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Oh come on! Yes you have.”

She reached for her glass to take a slow, deliberate sip of her drink.

“Was there something to notice?” She asked.

“Ouch, Athena. That hurt.” He pouted.

She giggled quietly to herself and he smiled another smile at her.

The food arrives and Shawn has three plates to her one. Something about needing to stay strong and full just so she could not notice. The mac and cheese is shockingly good. Athena peers towards the back to see if there’s a black person back there cooking. The diner is cosy and warm as it starts to rain outside and he keeps making her laugh with a startlingly ease. It feels nice. So nice.

“Hey I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” He said as you both worked on finishing your meals.

Athena shrugged. “Shoot.”

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want. I was just curious...what exactly happened that made you hate it here so much? I’ll believe you no matter what it is, I just thought I’d ask.”

It stuns her for a moment. She hadn’t even told Taylor about her past with the town. She just assumed Athena hated wolves just because she was a witch. No one but her and her mama really knew what happened. What this town had been like. And even then she had only heard the stories, had never actually been there for it. It’s a story she never quite felt like sharing. But, she can feel his earnestness, can feel the sincerity and the willingness to listen in him. He’s feeling confident, and more than that he’s feeling vulnerable. It’s hard to not let his emotions bleed into her own.

“My momma grew up here.” She whispered peering down at her plate. “She lived here her whole life. And i guess the feud between the witches and the wolves was supposedly a lot better at that point. It would’ve been when your dad was alpha. My dad… he was a beta.”

“Wait...You’re part wolf?”

She nodded. “I guess technically. It never presented in me that way though. But my dad, he fell in love with my mom. They were mates.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yea. It was just about as unheard of as it is now. But they couldn’t help it. They were in love with each other. And when the town found out that a wolf was with a witch? All of that peace treaty shit went straight out the window. She--She couldn’t even leave the house. They would scream the most awful things at her. She wasn’t allowed on his side of town or the locals would throw things at her. I guess my dad would come visit her, but the witches weren’t fond of his kind either. It was awful. She can’t even talk about it to this day without crying. When she got pregnant with me, that was the final straw. She left town and she’s never come back. She’s never forgiven this town for what it took from her.”

Her knee bounces sporadically beneath the table. She doesn’t notice until Shawn covers it with his palm to get her to stop.

“Your dad. What happened to your dad?” He asked.

“He...He stayed here at first. You can’t just leave the pack without there being grave consequences.But the pain of being away from your mate is insufferable. They were literally designed for each other. Apparently he ended up leaving the pack anyway, but the damage had already been done. No one’s heard from him since.”

“Shit. Shit. Athena that--that’s so horrible. Honey, I can’t even...I’m so sorry.”

Sometimes she liked to focus on the emotions of others because it meant she didn’t have to think about herself. It’s made easier when he places his hand on her knee. It’s like his emotions are screaming at her. There’s a sadness. An empathy that feels like it’s wrapping itself around her in a thick smoke. And then there’s a guilt, which throws her completely for a loop.

“You feel guilty. Why?”

He frowned. “Are you kidding me,I was such a dick to you. It never even occurred to me to get your side, to ask you what you've been through. Even when my dad told me to. I should have listened. I should have asked you sooner. I--I’m so sorry. No one deserves to experience that. No wonder you hate it here.”

The sincerity to it all baffles her further. She never could have expected that Shawn would show her this kindness. She didn’t even know wolves were capable of showing someone like her that kindness. His hand is still on her thigh and it’s so warm. This town had felt cold to her for so long, had represented nothing but it. And yet he was here, right in front of her, continuously destroying her expectations.

“Well it...it hasn’t been so bad lately.” She mumbled. “But I uh I’m still trying to learn how to feel like I belong here. And maybe now you can see why that’s been a little more difficult to me. It doesn’t excuse my anger towards you, and I’m still truly sorry about it. I just hope you’ll see that I’m trying.”

“Of course. Hey, of course I do. I’m just glad we’ve gotten to start off on a better foot. You do belong here, Athena. We’re just lucky to have you. I hope you can see that.” he murmured.

His eyes are as warm as his hand, so when he removes his grip from her knee, it doesn’t feel as devastating. She bites her lip to ground herself in the moment, to not be so in her own head, to just say how she really feels.

“I never thought I could feel safe here.” She admitted. “You gave me that. So, thank you.”

“You are always safe here with me, Athena. Always.”

She trusts him then too.

***

*Shawn’s point of view*

He still meets with his dad to discuss pack issues. He liked knowing that there was a wealth of knowledge that he didn’t necessarily have, but could always tap into. His dad had never led him astray before. So when another hiker goes missing, and they can’t even find the body, he goes to him immediately. Something has to be done. And it has to be the right something because his town’s safety is at stake.

“I don’t know what it is, dad. This whole thing just feels off. It’s too calculated to be a random incident.” He huffed for the umpeenth time.

“What do you mean, what is it?”

“It’s like...it’s like they’re fucking with the line. First we happen to be able to track their scent all the way to the county line, and it just happens to cut off at the river where our territory ends? And then this time they get someone on the trail that is just outside our reach and the scent cuts off again. What are the fuckin’ chances?”

His dad nods. “It’s definitely weird for sure. I want you to trust your gut. All you can do is prepare and be defensive though. If you think a curfew is necessary to keep people out of the woods, then I’m sure sargent Farah would listen to you.”

“But it is weird right? Did anything like this ever happen when you were running the pack?”

“Not exactly. We had a lot more problems with our own fighting each other than others looking to attack.” He sighed.

It reminds him of his lunch with Athena. He could still feel the sadness in his eyes when she told him the story. He could also still see the way he made her laugh when they got ice cream afterwards and he immediately dropped his on the ground. He could feel the flutter it caused in his stomach. And he had no fucking clue what to do about it.

“Yea I uh...Athena finally told me what happened with her mom and dad here. Were you close to the situation?”

Manny shook his head softly. “It was a terrible situation. The worst I ever felt as pack leader. I couldn’t control anything that was happening. Not the humans, not the wolves, not the witches. Everyone was just livid over it. I was close enough to try to convince her father to leave. Being without one’s mate can cause you to go feral. Then again so can leaving your pack. When he left us, I wasn’t sure what to do. I can only hope that he’s okay.”

He plays with one of the rings on his finger to keep him busy as he hedges his next question.

“Were they really mates? Can a wolf and a witch mate?”

“Yea. It’s rare. Very rare. But, it can happen.”

He nodded softly. “Do they always end like that?”

“No, of course not. A wolf and a witch mating is just like any other mates. It’s intense of course, but it’s ultimately lovely.”

When he looks up his dad is giving him that look that says he sees right through him. It was always like his dad to know him better than he knew himself.

“You wanna ask something.” Manny guessed. “Just go ahead and ask it.”

He shrugged. “I guess I was curious what it felt like with you and mom. How did you know you two were mates and not just...attracted to each other or something.”

“I’ll be honest. I didn’t actually know at first. You hear those stories about first meeting and it being instantaneous, but it isn’t really. It’s a lot like falling in love for the first time. I saw her and I was tongue tied. I thought she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I didn’t find out we were mates until her mother passed.”

“How come?”

“When you’re a mated pair eventually your emotions become linked in a way. Specifically pain. Physical. Mental. There’s a catalyst that sparks it. That’s when you’ll know. It’ll probably be the most painful thing you’ll ever go through. The good news is it’ll come with a lot of beauty afterwards.”

He looked back down and shook his head.

“I was just asking. Not like I’m gonna be mated anytime soon. Got the pack to think about.” He mumbled.

“Sure thing kiddo, sure thing.”

***

Traveling with non-wolves is always a pain in the ass. They can’t move as fast, and even if he shifted to be able to carry them, there was no way to communicate. He usually hated it, hated anything that limited his ability to move and be free. Somehow he doesn’t hate this, and that just confuses him the way that everything has lately.

Part of the defense plan for the town was to visit all of the cut off parts of their territory and set up some charms and general hocus pocus shit to hopefully help figure out what the hell was trying to invade his town. Obviously Edna wasn’t quite up for day long journeys anymore. So, it was just him and Athena. It hadn’t even occurred to him to invite anyone else from the pack along, he just told them he needed everyone at home in case something happened. But a part of him, and that part was growing every time she tripped over everything she came across and immediately refuse to let him carry her, knew why he didn’t want anyone else around.

They were friends now. Like actual, genuine, friends. And he kind of loved it. She was so fucking funny and wicked smart. She never took any of his shit and spent most of her time making fun of him. Her sense of humor was inappropriate as hell. He loved every bit of it. That within itself wasn’t a problem. He didn’t think there was anything wrong with their friendship. The problem came when she would laugh and his heart would skip a beat. The problem was every time she complained about the outdoors and it didn’t irritate him at all, it only made him feel softer. The problem was that he had deep, genuine feelings for her and there seemed to be no getting around them.

They camped out in the woods right off of one of the hiking trails because Athena couldn’t do the walking for twenty-four hours straight that he could. She had made a fire with nothing but her hands, her ability to manipulate the elements coming very much in handy. She sat there next to the fire in an oversized sweatshirt pulled over her knees, and it just hurt to stare at her. He kept trying to keep his thoughts under control around her only for her to stare up at him with those soft lips, those beautiful eyes. And he was just meant to not notice at all?

“I wanna ask you something.” She hummed at him after they’d finished their dinner of fire roasted pizza.

His whole body locked up.

“Y--yea? What’s that?”

“Do you think you’ve ever been in love before?”

Shit.

His cheeks heated immediately and it had nothing to do with the fire. He couldn’t make eye contact and he knew his heart was racing in his chest. Even he could read the nerves coming off of him in waves. It must’ve been easy for her to read.

“Love? I--I’m not sure. I’ve had really great, really important relationships before. I’ve told a few women that I loved them. But, I usually reserve the concept of being in love with, what my parents have and I’ve definitely never had that before.”

She smiled at him. His heart rate increased.

“I met them when mama introduced us. They are very complex beings emotions wise. I could read them so easily. They felt so many things at once: comfort, sincerness, kindness, all of that. But no matter what they were saying, there was always an undercurrent of love. They felt it for each other endlessly and relentlessly. I thought it was really beautiful.”

He nodded softly, happy that he could at least be open and honest with this, could let his emotions run wild with what he’d grown up around.

“It is. They’ve known each other since they were twenty. My dad went on a trip to London because he was twenty and dumb and thought that a werewolf in london was too good an irony to pass up. He met her the first day,and they spent his whole trip there together. When it was time for him to leave, he begged her to come to Pickering with him. She told him was crazy. He told her he’d convinced her. Again, she told him he was crazy. I was born a year later.” He smirked.

It has the intended effect that that story always gave. She cooes and aww’s and smiles, and he just wants to kiss her already.

“Well that’s sweet as shit. You’ve got some big shoes to fill, Mendes.”

He scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Haha. Funny. Why do you ask anyway?”

This time it’s her turn to give the deer caught in the headlights look. Her habits are a bit different than his, but he’s been spending so much time with her lately that they all sort of click for him. Her knee bounces at an abnormal rate. She hides her hands away, this time in the sleeves of her sweatshirt. She peers down at the ground and then back up at him from beneath these eyelashes that cause him nothing but trouble.

“No reason. I was just curious.”

“Okay. Have you ever been in love before?” He asked.

She shook her head softly. “I thought I was before. I’ve loved a lot people who didn’t really love me back. But, that soft shit your parents have? I don’t think that’s in the cards for me.”

“Well, why not?” He pushed, almost stubbornly. “Everyone’s worthy of love, Athena.”

“I know. I know that, but that stuff you only read about, that’s a one in a million chance type stuff, Shawn. I’m not losing sleep over it. I don’t need some earth defying romance. I’ll be okay.” She snorted.

“Yea, alright. Sure. I’m gonna...go get more firewood.”

He hopped up from his seat moving to put distance between the two of them. She gave him a strange look but he didn’t stay long enough for her to ask questions.

*No one’s point of view*

Shawn flicks off to the forest to pull at branches and thinking stubbornly about his emotions. Meanwhile Athena sets up their sleeping bags in the tent and struggles to get comfortable. She spends a long while thinking about the look on Shawn’s face. He had felt frustrated, fed up. Hurt even. And she didn’t know why. She never knew why, and it was driving her slowly insane. She liked him. Why the hell did she like him so much? And why wasn’t he like everyone else, why couldn’t she read whether he liked her back?

She kept catching glimpses of things that made her think it might be possible. A rush of warmth in his belly. Utter elation and happiness when they were together. But it always felt circumstantial. They’d be doing something he loved, or just having fun in general. And to be honest Shawn was such a happy go lucky guy in general, he seemed to be the type to say I love you to a really good burger. It never felt like enough. And it wasn’t like she ever caught him feeling love. He was so stupid. This is so stupid.

God she was so stupid, Shawn thought. Women. Oh how he missed the days where girls had cooties and he could just play on the monkey bars. Back when things made sense! Here he was, heart on his sleeve, pining after this woman and she didn’t even want him. And how fucking dumb was he to think that they could possibly, in some universe, actually be mates? Of course they weren’t. Just because she didn’t hate his guts all of a sudden didn’t mean she was gonna fall in love with him.

The wind starts to pick up and he feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up like a storm might be on the horizon. So, he heads back to the campsite in case Athena gets cold as the temperature begins to drop. He’s still a wounded.

Neither of them speak as Shawn crawls into the tent. He tugs off his shirt and tosses it besides his sleeping back as he crawls inside. Athena rolls her eyes at the ceiling. What reason was there possibly to take off one’s shirt in this cold ass weather. It was like he was teasing her at this point. Shawn laid on his back, arm tucked behind his head as he peered over at the girl who hadn’t left his heart alone since he’d met her.

“Are you okay? It gets cold up here at night.” He whispered.

She bit awkwardly at the inside of her cheek. “No. I’m freezing.”

He sighed. “That’s my bad. I should’ve warned you about that. Here, come here.”

She peered over at the boy who hadn’t left her heart alone since she’d met him.

“Excuse me?”

I’m like a hundred and two degrees on a slow day. I’ll keep you warm. You won’t even need the sleeping bag.”

It was a total recipe for disaster. Snuggle up with the guy she most definitely had feelings for? But it was cold. And Athena didn’t do cold. She thrived in straight tropical temperatures, and had somehow ended up in canada. It was a travesty really.

“Are you sure?” She mumbled, fingers peeking out hesitantly from her blanket.

“Of course, I am. I wouldn’t leave you to freeze. C’mere.”

It’s the closest they’ve been since he found her unconscious in the woods. She settles herself on top of him, or at least she tries. There’s an awkwardness as neither of them quite know how to move their bodies with each other. She doesn’t want to smother him, and he can’t quite tell her that he’d happily die that way if given the option, so all he can do is tug at her hips until she falls gracelessly against him.

She groans softly. “Christ, you’re warm.”

“Told you.” He mumbled tucking one of her curls out of her face.

She peered up at him from his chest and they’d never had their faces that close together before. She smelled like campfire and sandalwood and something sweet. He smelled like campfire and musk and something warm.

“You are so odd, Shawn Mendes.”

He chuckled fingers diving in to play with another curl.

“Why is that?”

“You storm off into the woods like some moody teeanger because I don’t see any showstopping romance coming my way? And then you just crawl in here with your dumb doe eyes and your dumb six pack and start playing with my hair? Why? Why are you this way?” She ranted.

“I’m a moody teenager? You’re absolutely oblivious! Oblivious, do you know that? Your cheek bones are dumb.” He huffed taking her face in his hand and caressing her bottom  lip with his thumb. “And your full lips are dumb. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

It provides a clarity that rocks her to her very toes. It’s like he had been purposely keeping just enough puzzle pieces to himself so that she couldn’t see the picture. Suddenly she could see it with startling clear eyes. The warmth in his stomach. The adoration and all of the nerves. They were all for her. All of it.

She feels his determination before she feels his kiss. But oh does she love his kiss. His lips are warm against her cold ones, soft but firm. She can feel her jaw tense against the palm of his hand as he curves it against her cheek. His other hand smoothed down to her back and beneath her sweatshirt, tangling in the fabric until she felt his touch on the small of her back searing and hot. Suddenly it feels like she’s breathing for the first time. Like simultaneously he’s breathing life right into her lungs while it also feels like he’s taking it all away. She’d happily give it all away.

Kissing her feels like sunshine. It feels like warmth and softness and cocoa butter. It feels like something to get lost in, something that has no use in fighting because it could so easily overpower him. Her lips completely capture his own, and he doesn’t feel like he’s in charge even though he’s the one who kissed her. He feels like his heart is exploding and beating a new all at once. He knows it then. Without the need for any pain, or folklore, or history book. She’s completely and utterly his everything right there. It’s instantaneous. It’s immediate. It’s all consuming. And he’s not fighting it once so ever.

“Why the hell did you make me wait that long?” He growled nipping his way down to her throat.

She moaned and it made his hips buck beneath her.

“I--I couldn’t read how you felt. And it scared me. F--Fuck your teeth are sharp.”

He immediately retracts his mouth peering down at her with nervous eyes, all of his confidence vanishing. It reminded her of the story her mama had told her of not wanting to scare people with his fangs as a child.

“No, good sharp Shawn. Very good sharp.” She assured him and tugged him in again.

“Are you sure? Are you sure you want this?” He mumbled rubbing his nose against hers.

“I’m sure. Come here. Please.”

She doesn’t go to bed cold that night.

***

*Athena’s point of view*

The next morning is full of loaded glances and awkward smiles. He turns his back respectively as she pulls on a new shirt for the hike back down. He catches her staring when he goes to do the same. She pretends that her cheeks don’t warm when he catches her, and thanks god for the melanin. They pack up their camp and prepare to leave. The first time, for what are sure to be many, she trips over a rock he finds the guts to hold her hand. His fingers are warm intertwined with hers, and it feels so fucking high school and so overhwelming and perfect all at once.

“Why don’t you just...let me lead you down this time, aye? Don’t want you getting hurt.”

She rolled her eyes playfully. “Okay, big guy. I’ll let you protect me, if it makes you feel better.”

“The sooner you recognize that all those powers of yours will do you know good the second you hit yourself in the head with a rock and bludgeon yourself, the better. There are somethings I can do better than you ya know?” He taunted.

“I’m a little clumsy, so what? I’m supposed to have you carry me down the mountain in your big strong arms?”

He grinned. “If you want, honey. Just say the word.”

Dumb. So dumb.

They scale down the rest of the path together in search of her car with their fingers intertwined. Her mind is still a little blown. She ran her fingers over neck where his five o’clock shadow had rubbed her. She could still feel where his teeth had nipped at her jaw, and the way her thighs tightened. More than anything she could feel the way her stomach had felt like it was floating. How he had made her feel light and open and happy. God.

At the car, they stuff her trunk full, and when he closes it he wastes zero time pressing her gently into the side. She didn’t know she could miss the feel of his hips against hers until she had it again.

“Could I uh drive home with you? I’ll shift and run home from there.” He whispered.

She smiled softly. “How come you wanna come home with me?”

He rolled his eyes and rolled his neck playfully before hiding a chuckle into her neck. It feels so good to be with him in this way.

“I don’t wanna say goodbye yet, okay? I’m just not ready.” He admitted. “Is that okay?”

“Me neither.” She tells him quietly. “Please come with me.”

“Yea? Can I kiss you again first?”

“I think I’d be insulted if you didn’t.”

God they were so dumb.

The drive home is spent listening to the radio and holding hands on the center console. It’s easy. So incredibly easy after all the time they spent fighting and disliking each other. She doesn’t have to be afraid anymore. It’s like a huge weight off her chest, and all that she’s left with is this thing that is new and exciting and comforting. He sings in her ear and it makes her heart feel warm. He just is there and it’s so intoxicating. She doesn’t know how to contain herself. She doesn’t want to let it go.

“I think you should let me take you out.” He murmured.

She peered over at him from the road with a playful grin on her face.

“Yea? Where are you gonna take me? The diner?”

“Noooo. Girl, I’ve got moves you haven’t even seen yet. Things you can’t even imagine!”

Athena found this to be particularly funny. Shawn did not.

“Moves! You’ve got moves, aye?!”

“Keep on laughing at me and you will get none of this loving, do you hear me? None of it.”

She keeps laughing, peering from the road to the face of this adorable ass idiot. One second it’s just them and the road and everything is fine. The next, she peers back from his face to the road and there’s something there.

“Shit!”

She slammed on the break, jerking the wheel to the left to avoid the blur of brown moving into the road. Shawn’s arm is suddenly there across her stomach like a shield as they spin out against the road. Her heart slams just as aggressively against her sternum, and she gasps as her fingers lock against the steering wheel. The car jerks again until stopping in the middle of the road.

“What the hell was that?!” She screamed, dazed and confused.

“That was a wolf. Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He asked reaching across the console to touch her face.

She nodded hesitantly. “I’m okay. I’m alright.”

“Okay. Just wait here. I’ll be right back!”

“Shawn, wait--”

He threw himself for the car peering over at the space where the animal had been. He was only out there for a few moments before he began tugging his shirt off in the middle of the road and running back to your car.

“It’s the scent! It’s the fucking wolf that’s been terrorizing the town. I’m gonna go after it. Drive back to my place. Tell whoever is there. I’m gonna follow it.”

“W--Wait. Shawn, you don’t even know who that is. Maybe we should just drive back together!”

He shook his head. “Sweetheart, we can’t risk it. I’m gonna be fine. Listen to me, okay? I’ll be fine. Just go.”

“But...But Shawn!”

“Go!”

Her nerves are absolutely frazzled the rest of the drive back. She can’t stop thinking about what the hell Shawn could possibly be doing. And sure, he was an alpha; he was the alpha, but that didn’t mean he had any clue what he was up against. Whoever or whatever was out there had been masterly avoiding them for weeks. Now, all of a sudden they just plop straight in the middle of the road in front of them? What the hell were the chances of that?

She gets back to his house somehow without crashing and is barely out of the car before people are greeting her outside. It’s Brian, Jasmine, Connor, Zeubin, and Lily all having heard her tires screeching on the asphalt.

“What’s wrong? Where’s Shawn?” Brian asks.

She points out into the woods where she’s fucking hoping they can hear them and tries to explains without passing out. But, her heart is hammering in her chest, and something is telling her that this isn’t right. It doesn’t feel right.

“Okay. Jasmine, Zeubin, and Lily with me. Connor you stay here with Athena. We’ll go make sure everything is okay.” Brian ordered.

“Excuse me? Fuck that. I’m going too!” Athena challenged.

Brian’s eyes flashed gold, a sign of his betaness and general assholerly.

“You will stay here. All you’ll do is get in the way.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m more powerful than you. That is a fact. And I’m not sitting here like a fucking limp rag while you go out and defeat the bad guys. It’s my town to protect too. Now stop fucking arguing with me and let’s go!”

Everyone peers between the two of them, no doubt trying to figure out who has the higher rank, Shawn’s right hand man in the pack, or the most powerful witch in the town. She’s not interested in the time it’s going to take them to figure it out though, so she stalks off into the woods until everyone else follows.

“You can’t just go walking there! You’ll slow us down. You can climb on my back when I shift and I’ll take you.” Connor offers.

She smiles at him. And they say maturity comes with age. Not always.

The rest of them must decide for themselves that she’s not taking no for an answer, because they all spring into action. She watches them shift and it’s a little more unsettling than she cared to admit. Suddenly she’s surrounded on all sides by wolves that are taller than her head on all fours. Except for Connor who quickly barks and kneels down in front of her. The kid standing before her just minutes ago could have never taken all of her weight on his back. Now, she feels tiny climbing to nestle herself in his fur. Her fingers dig into his fur for something to grab onto. He barks at her and at first she thinks she hold on too tight, but as soon as he begins to move she realizes he’s asking her to grab tighter.

As a group they all tear into the woods. She keeps her face hidden in Connor’s fur to ignore the blur of trees that was sure to give her whiplash. Athena can only imagine that everyone is running based off of smell, of Shawn’s scent. She on the other hand is going strictly off fee. Something had changed the moment he kissed her. She could send him even now, even while they were apart. At her prime that wasn’t something that she could do with other people. Maybe a few feet away, but nothing this great of a distance. She could feel every emotion going on inside of him and they were miles apart. It didn’t make any sense.

Just fucking wait for me, she thought to herself. She can feel his confidence, tilting a little over the edge of cockiness. There’s this straight edge focus that comes with being the alpha, along with this crippling need to protect. The wildest thing about it all is that underneath all of those emotions, she can feel love. She knows that it’s love because it’s almost like a color in her mind. A brightness that shines through all of the other emotions running through him like a current. Only now, his emotions are no longer hidden from her. She can see what’s behind them. And it’s her. He’s thinking of her even now, even in the middle of a fight. And he’s thinking of her with love.

And that’s when it happens. One second she feels elated, overcome with emotion. And the next she’s in pain. Like heart stopping, blood curdling pain. Hers fingers lock down on Connor’s fur and she lets loose a scream that rips through her chest and out into the world. It’s the most painful thing she’s ever felt in her life. It feels like a hole is being punched through her chest, like someone is trying to rip her heart out. Tears pour hot and fresh from her eyes and she nearly loses herself on Connor’s back. She only knows that it’s not her because she feels that she’s linked to him, tethered so tightly that the bond between them feels taunt enough to snap. It’s him. He’s in pain.

“SHAWN! SHAWN IS IN TROUBLE!” You sobbed.

There’s a chorus of whimpers amidst the whooshing of the air against the trees. And then suddenly they’re all moving faster. The closer she gets to him the more his pain resonates within her And the more it does the more she begins to feel hot. The pain is searing and it’s bone deep, with a heat that begins to boil in her gut alongside it.

They make it through the woods and into the clearing and she practically tumbles off of Connor and onto the grass.

He’s there. She can tell it’s Shawn because of the shade of his fur, a chestnut brown close to his own hair color. The pain now is rippling hot in her. There’s another wolf on top of him that seems to take a bite out of his shoulder. Shawn lets out a wild bark that leaves her crying into the dirt. The other wolves run to intervene, but the wolf on top of Shawn is massive. And it looks nothing like everyone else. It’s hair is dark and matted. And its eyes are a sickly yellow color. When it bares its fangs, its teeth are sharp and yellow and huge, and Athena realizes where she had seen an image like it before. In one of the books her grandmother had shared with her for her training. That wolf was feral.

The wolf sinks its teeth into Shawn again before, Brian and Lily run head first to pull him off. As the others engage in battle, Shawn is left whimpering with these sad little mewels. It’s bad, she knows enough to know that it’s bad, can feel enough to know it’s bad. Her fingers dig into the dirt as she pressed her forehead into the earth and took a deep breath. There was a need for her to make it all better somehow. She felt a raw energy that was trying to climb it’s way out of her. One second she was just feeling all of Shawn’s pain and the next she just made a decision to end it.She works to visualize it in her mind, an outline that surrounds him on all sides in bright red. It’s just as unwavering as she could imagine, and it took so much out of her to even reach out and took it. She gritted her teeth and tug deep into the ground as she flexed a power that she’d never used before. Shawn’s whimpers died down almost immediately, and instead it was her who was left panting on the ground from the exertion.

When she came to, Connor was kneeled before Shawn nuzzling his head against the much larger wolf in an attempt to keep him company. But the other wolves were in the thick of a fight and it didn’t look like it was going well. The feral wolf was bigger than all of them, just smaller than Shawn, but more aggressive and less calculated. It was all brute force. Everytime one would launch themselves at it, the wolf would just slam them back. It didn’t look like it was three on one at all. Her connection to Shawn is now two fold. She can feel the anxiety and the fear for his pack, which translate into her own fierce need to protect. When the feral wolf throws Brian so hard into a tree that it snaps and falls over, Shawn howls and struggles to his feet. He can’t put any weight on his legs though and quickly falls over. All that he can do is bark and howl, and the frustration of this is enough to leave her feeling like she must do something.

She loses herself in it so quickly. Consciousness slips and all that she can feel is the power radiating from her fingertips. The air around them stills. The trees go silent. Her body ascends from the ground as the earth begins to shake from beneath her wrath. The wind that was nonexistent before comes roaring back, and her chest gets this odd sense of calmness before she lets lose another shocking scream as she directs all of her energy, all of her magic, all of everything that she is directly at the wolf. And then it all goes black.

***

Her head hurt like a bitch. That was the first thing she remembered. Her eyes fluttered open and the light in the room was so bright that she decided to just close them again. It felt like a long time before she opened her eyes again. This time when she did it was her mama standing over her with a washcloth pressed to her head. It was the washcloth that made her think of Shawn, and she immediately went to sit up only to get a whoosh of vertigo that sent her right back down to the bed.

“Lay back, girl. You’re exhausted.” She murmured pressing the cloth to her forehead again.

“Shawn, mama. W--Where is he?” Athena whimpered.

Edna rolled her eyes. “He is taking up all the space on my perfectly good couch. Something about not being able to be away from you. I take it you two finally figured out your mates then?”

“Mates?!”

“Woops.” She chuckled. “You’re mates, alright? All that frustration you were feeling, all that anger? Probably had more to do with the fact that you were fighting some very inevitable feelings than anything else. I meant it when I said it was your destiny.”

“But...But, if you knew we were mates why didn’t you just say something?”

“Because where’s the fun in that?” She snorted. “I can’t tell you nothing Athena. You have to learn your own way, and from what I hear about your little stunt in the woods, it worked.”

“What happened? I can’t remember any of it.”

“You got your active powers that’s what happened. You were able to manipulate the elements to basically create a giant tornado that knocked enough space between all of them. You saved their lives, child.”

“Me? I did?”

“Mhm. My baby.” She grinned playing with the blankets that were tucked around her. “There’s something I need to tell you though.”

“Okay, what is it?”

Edna sighed. “That wolf that attacked you all, the wolf that was responsible for the killings? That wolf was your daddy.”

“W--What? But you said...you said he ran away after my mom left town.”

“And he did. But remember when I taught you about feral wolves? The consequences for leaving one’s pack, for going without one’s mate, can lead to it. H--He wasn’t even himself anymore, baby. He hadn’t been in his human form for years and years. He probably didn’t even know what he was doing; he just felt pulled to this place because of everything that happened here.” She explained.

Athena picked anxiously at her blanket, eyes welling up against her will.

“Did I . . . Was it me?” She whispered.

Edna quickly leaned over and gathered her granddaughter up in her arms as the sobs began to rock her body jerkily.

“Shhhh. It wasn’t you, sweetheart. I swear.”

It felt weird to get emotional over a man she had never met. Her mother had only spoken good things about him when she was growing up, even though he hadn’t been able to come with her. She had only even seen him in pictures. Even as a child she’d been able to feel the love her mother had for him. As an empath it was her first glimpse at what that kind of love could feel like. And somehow she couldn’t help but feel like she’d played some sort of hand in taking it away.

There’s a knock on the door a few minutes into her crying spell. And it is amazing how instantly she can feel him there, on the other side of the door. In her heart she knows he’s there for her, just as the need back in the woods had consumed her to be there for him.

“You want me to let him in?”

She sniffled and nodded allowing her grandmother to kiss her forehead before she got out of the bed.

The door opens and the second she hears his voice, her heart calms.

“H--hey I’m sorry, I just couldn’t--”

He peers over Edna’s head and makes eye contact with Athena. He sees her tears and has to stop himself from moving around Edna. She can feel that

“Hi. Can I please come in?”

It’s a request for him just as much as it is for her. He needs her to feel better, because it’s the only way either of them are gonna feel better.

Edna left the two of them alone and he immediately crawled into bed beside her. When he took her into his arms it was immediate relief. Her face took refuge in his neck as the tears burned her eyes but he was there. There was so much to talk about, so much to learn. But, for now, this is all that they have and it’s all that they need. Just the comfort of each other. Nothing else.

***

Six months later

*Shawn’s point of view*

“We are going to be late.” She giggled.

“Mmm...just a few more minutes, baby please?”

His lips traced lines along her neck and trailed up and down her cleavage. This was his happy place. His oasis. His heaven even. Why on earth would he ever leave?

“You know I hate making your mother wait.” Athena whined while still arching her back to push her chest closer to his mouth.

“Mhm. Of course.”

“You know I can feel when you’re lying right?”

“Stop using my emotions against me! It’s not fair.” He grunted teeth finding a new patch of skin to latch onto.

They were thirty minutes late to Sunday dinner. It wouldn’t have been a problem if his shirt hadn’t been buttoned wrong, and his dad hadn’t caught them on the porch not wanting to go in if they could kiss some more instead. You win some, you lose some.

Sunday dinners had become much more enjoyable with her in attendance, and not just because she let him kiss her in his childhood bedroom while his parent’s cleaned the dishes. In the time that it had taken them to come to terms with being mates they had adjusted with incredible ease. The strongest witch in town and the alpha. It was kind of a duo. An incredible duo at that. And it certainly helped that they loved each other more than anything in the world, in a way that was so vast and consuming that it could sometimes feel overwhelming. The good news was he had this amazing person to lean on, and who actually understood him better than anyone ever could. She made his heart soar.

He cornered her in the kitchen after dinner, arms wrapped tightly around her waist so he could hide his face in her braids. He was just as obsessed with her now as he’d been the second he figured out they were mates. Perhaps even before. Definitely before.

“You have no idea how happy it makes me when you come to dinner with me.” He breathed.

She hummed softly. “I think I do actually. Just a little bit.”

“Funny. You know...it might be a lot easier to get us to these dinners if I didn’t have to go to Edna’s to pick you up every time.”

Her fingers inched underneath his shirt to draw shapes that made his knees weak somehow.

“Just what do you suppose I do? We’d get here a lot quicker if you weren’t so handsy.”

He peered down at her and rested his forehead against hers.

“Maybe if you moved in with me, I could learn a little time management.” He grinned. “What didn’t feel that one coming did you?”

She head buts him playfully, her full lips forming quite the gasp. The things that she did to him. He was so gone.

“You want me to move in with you and a bunch of messy wolves, aye?” She smiled.

He shook his head. “Want you to move in with just one messy wolf. There’s a guest house on the property. It’d be just you and me.”

Her eyes got all wide and her lips made this small little “o” that honest to god was the cutest shit he’d ever seen. Surprising her was his greatest accomplishment.

She bit her lip. “Just us?”

“Just us. What do you say?”

“Yes! Of course, yes! Are you kidding me? Yes.”

She hops up into his arms crashing their lips together passionately. It felt like a really important step to building their life together, to creating something sustainable for the two of them. She had caused all of his goals and his needs to change so drastically in such a small amount of time. He only wanted her happiness, her safety, her pleasure. It was all that mattered to him. And he could always rest easy knowing that she would feel the exact same way about him. They were all that mattered now.

The End.

A ko-fi would really be lovely as I’m poor tbh lol. 

taglist: @simpledomain @liliane106 

#shawn mendes #Shawn mendes fic #Shawn mendes fanfic #Shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes smut #Shawn mendes one shot #Shawn mendes fluff #Shawn mendes angst #Shawn mendes au #Shawn mendes x black reader #Shawn mendes x black woman #shawn mendes x oc #Shawn mendes x black oc #shawn mendes series

[zarahjoyce]

ToB/ToZ Fic: Illusory Veil

Summary: You have nothing to worry about anymore, little sister. 

I still worry about you, brother. When will you come home?

Notes: my recent playthroughs of Zestiria and Berseria gave me so many feels about these ill-fated siblings SO

1. He had always thought she was delicate. An early-blooming flower who'd sooner wilt against a strong gust of wind than bend.

It was a good thing no one ever said her brother wasn't an idiot.

2. She developed the Barrier arte because it'd be useful to one who lived alongside the Reaper - like her.

There was no time to test it, however; the day she had it perfected was the day he'd gone from the Spiritcrest.

3. There were some things she couldn't forgive, and his disappearance without saying goodbye was one of them.

She got a letter from an unknown sender five months to the day he left, and gifts very soon after; vindictively she left them unopened, untouched.

4. (Until one day she didn't, and she very nearly cried at the atrociousness of her brother's grammar.

her brother really was an idiot.)

5. The Lord of Calamity, a witch, a daemon, a freed malak, and an ex-exorcist, all willingly travelling with the Malak and his Reaper's Curse.

Well, there's a bunch of losers if she'd ever heard of one.

6. The Lord of Calamity is gone. Innominat has been defeated. All malaks are free to live their own lives, set their own course. You have nothing to worry about anymore, little sister. 

I still worry about you, brother. When will you come home?

7. It didn't take her long to realize that he had sent her neither a letter nor a gift in the past year.

When that year turned into three, that was when she knew.

8. Heavy footsteps resounded in the night, and with it, the beating of wings considerable and, well, malevolent. Not like this, she thought, utterly shaken at the sight of a dragon - no, her brother, right at the very top of the Spiritcrest. Not like this.

9. When the dragon slept, she tried her damnedest to creep closer to it, pretend that he was still there, somewhere. Barrier! she cast in panic, when his large claw came crashing down towards her. At least she was able to practice her arte with him now.

10. Quietly, she watched as he devoured humans foolish enough to enter her domain. How ironic; he'd loved them so dearly before. Now they were just flesh and bones stuck between his teeth.

11. Then let's go together and find a way to save your brother. There must be a way to purify dragons somewhere, just waiting for the right person to find it! All right. You win, Sorey. I'll go with you.

12. Four seraphs - or at least three seraphs and one walking sexual harassment - and two humans with resonance strong enough to see them. What would her brother think of that, if he knew?

13. "When I become a dragon, kill me. I don't want Edna to suffer for it." What does that even mean? That's so selfish of him! Didn't he even think how lonely I've been without him?

14. I'm sorry it took so long.

I'm so--

15. Sometimes to kill 'em is to save 'em. 

Standing in front of his grave, Edna thought she finally understood. You're free again, brother. Free to explore the world you loved so much - this time without that stupid curse making everything difficult for you. So long and see you around. Eizen.

#did i just write something what #tales of berseria #tales of zestiria #edna #eizen #my feels #TAKE THEM ALL

[theresabookforthat]

Friday Reads: Spring!

Current conditions to the contrary, Spring sprang this week! Or so our calendars tell us. We are readers, we are patient: It won’t be long before snow and rain yield to sun and blooms. To cultivate that feeling of renewal this weekend (one likely spent indoors), we invite you to enjoy the following books for children and adults, all under the auspices of “Spring”!

SPRING GARDEN by Tomoka Shibasaki

Winner of the Akutagawa Prize, part of our Japanese novella series, showcasing the best contemporary Japanese writing.

Divorced and cut off from his family, Taro lives alone in one of the few occupied apartments in his block, a block that is to be torn down as soon as the remaining tenants leave. Since the death of his father, Taro keeps to himself, but is soon drawn into an unusual relationship with the woman upstairs, Nishi, as she passes on the strange tale of the sky-blue house next door.

 THE GREAT SPRING: WRITING, ZEN, AND THIS ZIGZAG LIFE by Natalie Goldberg

From beloved writing teacher and author of the best-selling Writing Down the Bones: a treasury of personal stories reflecting a life filled with journeys—inner and outer—zigzagging around the world and home again.

 SPRINGING: NEW AND SELECTED POEMS by Marie Ponsot

From the award-winning poet of The Bird Catcher, this life-spanning volume offers the delight of both discovery and re-discovery, as Ponsot tends the unruly garden of her mind with her customary care and passion. The book opens with a group of new poems, including “What Would You Like to Be When You Grow Up?”—a question that has kept Ponsot’s work vital for more than five decades.

 THE LANGUAGE OF SPRING: POEMS FOR THE SEASON OF RENEWAL Selected by Robert Atwan; Introduction by Maxine Kumin

The Language of Spring collects some thirty of the most evocative English-language poems on the experience of spring. The poems range from the traditional and formal (Gerard Manley Hopkins’s "Spring" and Edna St. Vincent Millay’s "English Sparrows") to the contemporary, experimental, and diverse (Henry Reed"s "Naming of Parts," Marie Ponsot"s "Mauve," and William Carlos Williams"s "The Widow"s Lament in Springtime"). Each poem beautifully illuminates another small spot of time in the enthralling season of renewal.

 SPRING SNOW: THE SEA OF FERTILITY, 1 by Yukio Mishima

Yukio Mishima’s Spring Snow is the first novel in his masterful tetralogy, The Sea of Fertility. Here we meet Shigekuni Honda, who narrates this epic tale of what he believes are the successive reincarnations of his friend, Kiyoaki Matsugae.

 THE FIRES OF SPRING: A NOVEL by James A. Michener

An intimate early novel from James A. Michener, now remembered as the beloved master of the historical epic, The Fires of Spring unfolds with the bittersweet drama of a boy’s perilous journey into manhood. Featuring autobiographical touches from Michener’s own life story, The Fires of Spring is more than a novel: It’s a rich slice of American life, brimming with wisdom, longing, and compassion.

 COMING IN MAY!

SPRING by Karl Ove Knausgaard

Spring follows a father and his newborn daughter through one day in April, from sunrise to sunset. A day filled with everyday routine, the beginnings of life and its light, but also its deep struggles and its darkness. Third in Knausgaard’s seasonal quartet, Spring is a deeply moving novel about family, our everyday lives, our joys and our struggles, beautifully illustrated by Anna Bjerger.

 FOR YOUNGER READERS

 WAITING FOR SPRING 1 by Anashin

Mizuki is a shy girl who’s about to enter high school, and vows to open herself up to new friendships. Of course, the four stars of the boys’ basketball team weren’t exactly the friends she had in mind! Yet, when they drop by the café where she works, the five quickly hit it off. Soon she’s been accidentally thrust into the spotlight, targeted by jealous girls. And will she expand her mission to include…love?

 THE PENDERWICKS IN SPRING by Jeanne Birdsall

Springtime is finally arriving on Gardam Street, and there are surprises in store for each member of the family. Some surprises are just wonderful, like neighbor Nick Geiger coming home from war. And some are ridiculous, like Batty’s new dog-walking business. Batty is saving up her dog-walking money for an extra-special surprise for her family, which she plans to present on her upcoming birthday. But when some unwelcome surprises make themselves known, the best-laid plans fall apart.

 CHERRY BLOSSOMS SAY SPRING by Jill Esbaum (National Geographic Kids)

Cherry Blossoms Say Spring looks at the life cycle of a cherry tree, the history behind the gift of the Japanese cherry trees to our nation's capital, and the association of cherry trees and spring. Vibrant scenes from the Cherry Blossom Festival and the flood of visitors to the Tidal Basin are balanced with shots of the natural beauty of these trees.

 SPRING BLOSSOMS by Carole Gerber, illustrated by Leslie Evans

During a stroll through the forest, two children come across the small and white flowers on a crab apple tree, the rich, red buds on a red maple, and many more. Along the way, readers learn that some trees have both male and female flowers—each with a distinctive appearance. Told in lyrical rhymes with beautiful linoleum-cut illustrations, Spring Blossoms offers a unique blend of science, poetry, and art studies.

  For even more on books about the season visit: SPRING READING

#spring reading #friday reads #there's a book for that #Yukio Mishima #maxine kumin #penguin random house #national geographic kids #the penderwicks #anashin #natalie goldberg #james michener #marie ponsot #karl ove knausgaard

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ONLY THE LONELY 🌱 2 0F 3 by Annabelle & M Via Flickr: 'Only the Lonely' Nicotiana Sylvestris, White Shooting Stars or Woodland Tobacco. It was the only Nicotiana Slyvestris plant to grow in the compost garden, and I left it alone to grow next to the Pumpkin Patch. Now that the Pumpkin Patch is gone, Only the Lonely is truly alone. It's beautiful, candelabra-like clusters of tubular luminous white blossoms still intoxicate the evening autumn air with a rich Jasmine-like perfume. In the past, when the white shooting stars of the Nicotiana Sylvestris bloomed in our summer garden at the front of the house where we could see and smell its beautiful scent, we would see hummingbird moths come around twilight to sip from the tiny trumpets. But this year, the trees have taken over the sun-loving garden, and only now are the self-sown seeds from the nicotiana of last summer starting to grow, a little too late, I'm afraid. So, come early spring next year, I must remember not to forget 'Only the Lonely' and plant some of its seeds indoors. This way, I will find it a better place to grow and watch its miniature chandeliers light up under the moonlight, maybe even catch a glimpse of a little fairy in the secret garden flitting here and there in the flowers of the 'Woodland Tobacco.' 'Where at dusk the dumb white nicotine awakes and utters her fragrance in a garden sleeping.' ~ Edna St. Vincent Millay

#TOBACCOPLANT #TOBACCO #ANNABELLE&&M #ANNABELLE #M #GHOSTALES1957 #STORY #STORIES #TALE #FRAGRANCE #SCENT #JASMINE #EVENINGSCENT #HUMMINGBIRDMOTHS #ALONE #CHANDELIER #LUMINOUS #WHITE #MOONGARDEN #LIGHT #PERFUME #EDNASTVINCENTMILLAY #POEM #QUOTE #LITERATURE #GARDEN #COTTAGEGARDEN #GARDENOFDREAMS #TANGLEDGARDEN #SECRETGARDEN

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Lavender Quotes

Official Website: Lavender Quotes

  • A rhododendron bud lavender-tipped. Soon a glory of blooms to clash with the cardinals and gladden the hummingbirds! – Dave Beard • Add a drop of lavender to milk, leave town with an orange, and pretend you’re laughing at it. – Bill Bailey • As a kid I’d play with homemade recipes, like putting pineapple on my face to exfoliate my skin and doing facial steams with lavender or peppermint oils. I just loved doing stuff like that. It’s what motivated me to launch my skin care line. – Demi Lovato • As far as what I do love, I love birds; I love lavender. – Michael Moore • Avoid men who call you Baby, and women who have no friends, and dogs that scratch at their bellies and refuse to lie down at your feet. Wear dark glasses; bathe with lavender oil and cool fresh water. Seek shelter from the sun at noon. – Alice Hoffman

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'Lavender', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_lavender').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_lavender img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); ); • Before bed, I read a book or flip on the radio – I’m not picky, I’ll just turn it on and see what comes up. I burn a yummy lavender- scented candle. – Carrie Underwood • Blue is the insides of something mysterious and lonely. I’d look at fish and birds, thinking the sky and water colored them. The first abyss is blue. An artist must go beyond the mercy of satin or water-from a gutty hue to that which is close to royal purple. All seasons and blossoms inbetween. Lavender. Theatrical and outrageous electric. Almost gray. True and false blue. Water and oil. The gas jet breathing in oblivion. The unstruck match. The blue of absence. The blue of deep presence. The insides of something perfect. – Yusef Komunyakaa • Both Matilda and Lavender were enthralled. It was quite clear to them that they were at this moment standing in the presence of a master. Here was somebody who had brought the art of skulduggery to the highest point of perfection, somebody, moreover, who was willing to risk life and limb in pursuit of her calling. They gazed in wonder at this goddess, and suddenly even the boil on her nose was no longer a blemish but a badge of courage. – Roald Dahl • Bursts of gold on lavender melting into saffron. It’s the time of day when the sky looks like it has been spray-painted by a graffiti artist. – Mia Kirshner • But you, you foolish girl, you have gone home to a leaky castle across the sea to lie awake in linen smelling of lavender, and hear the nightingale, and long for me. – Edna St. Vincent Millay

[clickbank-storefront-bestselling] • Can I have a look at Uranus too, Lavender? – J. K. Rowling • Day after day we looked for rain, and day after day we saw nothing but the sun. Lavender that we had planted in the spring died. The patch of grass in front of the house abandoned its ambitions to become a lawn and turned into the dirty yellow of poor straw. The earth shrank, revealing its knuckles and bones, rocks and roots that had been invisible before. – Peter Mayle • Even talking, I’m super-loud. I could never have that kind of meek, little wispy whimsical lavender and lace voice. It comes from my body. There’s no way I can fight it. – Beth Ditto • Gay people do not fight for freedom to live in a lavender bubble, but in a more just society. – Urvashi Vaid • He domesticated and developed the native wild flowers. He had one hill-side solidly clad with that low-growing purple verbena which mats over the hills of New Mexico. It was like a great violet velvet mantle thrown down in the sun; all the shades that the dyers and weavers of Italy and France strove for through centuries, the violet that is full of rose colour and is yet not lavender; the blue that becomes almost pink and then retreats again into sea-dark purple—the true Episcopal colour and countless variations of it. – Willa Cather • Here’s flowers for you; Hot lavender, mints, savoury, marjoram; The marigold, that goes to bed wi’ the sun And with him rises weeping: these are flowers Of middle summer, and I think they are given To men of middle age. – William Shakespeare • Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram; The marigold, that goes to bed wi’ the sun, and with him rise weeping. – William Shakespeare • I love Thieves, it is therapeutic, if you’re not feeling well. It has a very strong scent but is quite wonderful. I also use lavender. Peppermint, when my stomach is upset. – Donna Karan • I love you, Hermione,” said Ron, sinking back, rubbing his eyes wearily. Hermione turned faintly pink, but merely said, “Don’t let Lavender hear you saying that.” “I won’t,” said Ron into his hands. “Or maybe I will . . . then she’ll ditch me . . . – J. K. Rowling • I put a drop of lavender essential oil on my pillow before I go to sleep. – Melissa Joan Hart • I saw Chungking for the first time more than 40 years ago – a city of hills and mists, of grays and lavenders, two rivers shaping it to a point and the cliff rising above me like a challenge. – Theodore White • I turned over, and those big hands got to work on my back. I stifled a whimper in the pillow, because Marco’s idea of a massage bore no resemblance whatsoever to the relaxing spa variety. There was no lavender oil, no soothing music, no hot towels. Just an all-out assault on cramped muscles, until they cowered in surrender and turned to Jell-O. – Karen Chance • If feeling anxious about anything Dr Bachs night time rescue remedy is great. Sometimes a bath before bed helps. Burning Lavender or Clary Sage in the room before retiring. Try not to work on my computer very late and then bed straight after. Getting enough exercise definitely helps sleep. – Rachel Ryan • If you had to choose an oil…it would have to be lavender essential oil, because it is antibacterial and antiviral. So, it’s great to have when people around you are sick; it can also be used to relax. – Karen Rose • it always seems to me as if the lavender was a little woman in a green dress, with a lavender bonnet and a white kerchief. She’s one of those strong, sweet, wholesome people, who always rest you, and her sweetness lingers long after she goes away. – Myrtle Reed • It is easy to forget now, how effervescent and free we all felt that summer. Everything fades: the shimmer of gold over White Cove; the laughter in the night air; the lavender early morning light on the faces of skyscrapers, which had suddenly become so heroically tall. Every dawn seemed to promise fresh miracles, among other joys that are in short supply these days. And so I will try to tell you, while I still remember, how it was then, before everything changed-that final season of the era that roared. – Anna Godbersen • It was our favorite part of the day, this in-between time, and it always seemed to last longer than it should–a magic and lavender space unpinned from the hours around it, between worlds. – Paula McLain • Lavender is the new pink. I’ll never stop wearing pink but I wanted to venture out. – Nicki Minaj • London life was very full and exciting […] But in London there would be no greenhouse with a glossy tank, and no apple-room, and no potting-shed, earthy and warm, with bunches of poppy heads hanging from the ceiling, and sunflower seeds in a wooden box, and bulbs in thick paper bags, and hanks of tarred string, and lavender drying on a tea-tray. – Sylvia Townsend Warner • Look, why don’t you go talk to Ron about all this?” Harry asked. “Well, I would, but he’s always asleep when I go and see him!” said Lavender fretfully. “Is he?” said Harry, surprised, for he had found Ron perfectly alert every time he had been up to the hospital wing. – J. K. Rowling • My favorite name for a color is “puce.” It’s kind of a dried blood color. It’s a hideous color. But I love the word. It’s so euphonic. But my favorite colors are lavender, purple, periwinkle blue, and white. – Elizabeth Taylor • Oils of cinnamon and eucalyptus are as powerful against some microorganisms as conventional antibiotics, and are especially effective against flus. Sandalwood oil from Mysore, India, is not only a classic perfume oil but is also a traditional remedy for sore throats and laryngitis. Lavender oil, so often used in toilet waters and scented sachets, has a dramatic healing action on burns. – Robert Tisserand • One trick I swear by: I pour a little neroli or lavender oil onto a hot towel and use it to wipe off my makeup. It opens up my pores, and then my face cream sinks in better. – Courteney Cox • The air was fragrant with a thousand trodden aromatic herbs, with fields of lavender, and with the brightest roses blushing in tufts all over the meadows. – William C. Bryant • The raindrops played across the coast all through the night, until the soft new day shrugged itself awake, tried on amethyst and lavender for a while, and finally decided on pale yellow. – Gary D. Schmidt • The scent organ was playing a delightfully refreshing Herbal Capriccio – rippling arpeggios of thyme and lavender, of rosemary, basil, myrtle, tarragon; a series of daring modulations through the spice keys into ambergris; and a slow return through sandalwood, camphor, cedar and newmown hay (with occasional subtle touches of discord – a whiff of kidney pudding, the faintest suspicion of pig’s dung) back to the simple aromatics with which the piece began. The final blast of thyme died away; there was a round of applause; the lights went up. – Aldous Huxley • There are some things, after all, that Sally Owens knows for certain: Always throw spilled salt over your left shoulder. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Add pepper to your mashed potatoes. Plant roses and lavender, for luck. Fall in love whenever you can. – Alice Hoffman • To make a perfume, take some rose water and wash your hands in it, then take a lavender flower and rub it with your palms, and you will achieve the desired effect. – Leonardo da Vinci • Valentine’s Day money-saving tips: Break up on February 13th, get back together on the 15th. In place of bubble bath, use lavender-scented dish-washing liquid. Forget rose petals. Sprinkle the bed with sliced beets! – David Letterman • We lavender folk spray up, spontaneously flowering in the color we had learned as an identifying mark of our culture when it was subterranean and secret. – Judy Grahn • What a turnaround in sentiment ‘Glee’ exemplifies. It was only a few years ago that pursuing the dream of a Broadway career or cabaret stardom relegated some poor yearning dope to a lavender ghetto of losers, self-deluders, and social rejects. – James Wolcott • What woman, however old, has not the bridal-favours and raiment stowed away, and packed in lavender, in the inmost cupboards of her heart? – William Makepeace Thackeray • When hope is fleeting, stop for a moment and visualize, in a sky of silver, the crescent of a lavender moon. Imagine it — delicate, slim, precise, like a paper-thin slice from a cabochon jewel. It may not be very useful, but it is beautiful. And sometimes it is enough. – Vera Nazarian • When the light turns green, you go. When the light turns red, you stop. But what do you do when the light turns blue with orange and lavender spots? – Shel Silverstein • With this recitation of paraphernalia and detritus, O’Brien manages to encapsulate the experience of an army and of a particular war, of a mined and booby-trapped landscape, of cold nights and hot days, of soaking monsoons and rice paddies, and of the possibility of being shot, like Ted Lavender, suddenly and out of nowhere: not only in the middle of a sentence but in the midst of a subordinate clause. – Francine Prose • Womanist is to feminist as purple is to lavender. – Alice Walker • Yours is… il sent comme lavande.” Is that French for ‘You stink’?” It means ‘lavender’.” Huh.” She sniffed at her wrist. “I thought I smelled more like a grape Popsicle. – Lynn Viehl

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'a', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_a').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_a img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'e', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_e').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_e img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'i', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_i').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_i img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'o', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_o').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_o img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'u', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_u').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_u img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

[equitiesstocks]

Lavender Quotes

Official Website: Lavender Quotes

  • A rhododendron bud lavender-tipped. Soon a glory of blooms to clash with the cardinals and gladden the hummingbirds! – Dave Beard • Add a drop of lavender to milk, leave town with an orange, and pretend you’re laughing at it. – Bill Bailey • As a kid I’d play with homemade recipes, like putting pineapple on my face to exfoliate my skin and doing facial steams with lavender or peppermint oils. I just loved doing stuff like that. It’s what motivated me to launch my skin care line. – Demi Lovato • As far as what I do love, I love birds; I love lavender. – Michael Moore • Avoid men who call you Baby, and women who have no friends, and dogs that scratch at their bellies and refuse to lie down at your feet. Wear dark glasses; bathe with lavender oil and cool fresh water. Seek shelter from the sun at noon. – Alice Hoffman

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'Lavender', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_lavender').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_lavender img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); ); • Before bed, I read a book or flip on the radio – I’m not picky, I’ll just turn it on and see what comes up. I burn a yummy lavender- scented candle. – Carrie Underwood • Blue is the insides of something mysterious and lonely. I’d look at fish and birds, thinking the sky and water colored them. The first abyss is blue. An artist must go beyond the mercy of satin or water-from a gutty hue to that which is close to royal purple. All seasons and blossoms inbetween. Lavender. Theatrical and outrageous electric. Almost gray. True and false blue. Water and oil. The gas jet breathing in oblivion. The unstruck match. The blue of absence. The blue of deep presence. The insides of something perfect. – Yusef Komunyakaa • Both Matilda and Lavender were enthralled. It was quite clear to them that they were at this moment standing in the presence of a master. Here was somebody who had brought the art of skulduggery to the highest point of perfection, somebody, moreover, who was willing to risk life and limb in pursuit of her calling. They gazed in wonder at this goddess, and suddenly even the boil on her nose was no longer a blemish but a badge of courage. – Roald Dahl • Bursts of gold on lavender melting into saffron. It’s the time of day when the sky looks like it has been spray-painted by a graffiti artist. – Mia Kirshner • But you, you foolish girl, you have gone home to a leaky castle across the sea to lie awake in linen smelling of lavender, and hear the nightingale, and long for me. – Edna St. Vincent Millay

[clickbank-storefront-bestselling] • Can I have a look at Uranus too, Lavender? – J. K. Rowling • Day after day we looked for rain, and day after day we saw nothing but the sun. Lavender that we had planted in the spring died. The patch of grass in front of the house abandoned its ambitions to become a lawn and turned into the dirty yellow of poor straw. The earth shrank, revealing its knuckles and bones, rocks and roots that had been invisible before. – Peter Mayle • Even talking, I’m super-loud. I could never have that kind of meek, little wispy whimsical lavender and lace voice. It comes from my body. There’s no way I can fight it. – Beth Ditto • Gay people do not fight for freedom to live in a lavender bubble, but in a more just society. – Urvashi Vaid • He domesticated and developed the native wild flowers. He had one hill-side solidly clad with that low-growing purple verbena which mats over the hills of New Mexico. It was like a great violet velvet mantle thrown down in the sun; all the shades that the dyers and weavers of Italy and France strove for through centuries, the violet that is full of rose colour and is yet not lavender; the blue that becomes almost pink and then retreats again into sea-dark purple—the true Episcopal colour and countless variations of it. – Willa Cather • Here’s flowers for you; Hot lavender, mints, savoury, marjoram; The marigold, that goes to bed wi’ the sun And with him rises weeping: these are flowers Of middle summer, and I think they are given To men of middle age. – William Shakespeare • Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram; The marigold, that goes to bed wi’ the sun, and with him rise weeping. – William Shakespeare • I love Thieves, it is therapeutic, if you’re not feeling well. It has a very strong scent but is quite wonderful. I also use lavender. Peppermint, when my stomach is upset. – Donna Karan • I love you, Hermione,” said Ron, sinking back, rubbing his eyes wearily. Hermione turned faintly pink, but merely said, “Don’t let Lavender hear you saying that.” “I won’t,” said Ron into his hands. “Or maybe I will . . . then she’ll ditch me . . . – J. K. Rowling • I put a drop of lavender essential oil on my pillow before I go to sleep. – Melissa Joan Hart • I saw Chungking for the first time more than 40 years ago – a city of hills and mists, of grays and lavenders, two rivers shaping it to a point and the cliff rising above me like a challenge. – Theodore White • I turned over, and those big hands got to work on my back. I stifled a whimper in the pillow, because Marco’s idea of a massage bore no resemblance whatsoever to the relaxing spa variety. There was no lavender oil, no soothing music, no hot towels. Just an all-out assault on cramped muscles, until they cowered in surrender and turned to Jell-O. – Karen Chance • If feeling anxious about anything Dr Bachs night time rescue remedy is great. Sometimes a bath before bed helps. Burning Lavender or Clary Sage in the room before retiring. Try not to work on my computer very late and then bed straight after. Getting enough exercise definitely helps sleep. – Rachel Ryan • If you had to choose an oil…it would have to be lavender essential oil, because it is antibacterial and antiviral. So, it’s great to have when people around you are sick; it can also be used to relax. – Karen Rose • it always seems to me as if the lavender was a little woman in a green dress, with a lavender bonnet and a white kerchief. She’s one of those strong, sweet, wholesome people, who always rest you, and her sweetness lingers long after she goes away. – Myrtle Reed • It is easy to forget now, how effervescent and free we all felt that summer. Everything fades: the shimmer of gold over White Cove; the laughter in the night air; the lavender early morning light on the faces of skyscrapers, which had suddenly become so heroically tall. Every dawn seemed to promise fresh miracles, among other joys that are in short supply these days. And so I will try to tell you, while I still remember, how it was then, before everything changed-that final season of the era that roared. – Anna Godbersen • It was our favorite part of the day, this in-between time, and it always seemed to last longer than it should–a magic and lavender space unpinned from the hours around it, between worlds. – Paula McLain • Lavender is the new pink. I’ll never stop wearing pink but I wanted to venture out. – Nicki Minaj • London life was very full and exciting […] But in London there would be no greenhouse with a glossy tank, and no apple-room, and no potting-shed, earthy and warm, with bunches of poppy heads hanging from the ceiling, and sunflower seeds in a wooden box, and bulbs in thick paper bags, and hanks of tarred string, and lavender drying on a tea-tray. – Sylvia Townsend Warner • Look, why don’t you go talk to Ron about all this?” Harry asked. “Well, I would, but he’s always asleep when I go and see him!” said Lavender fretfully. “Is he?” said Harry, surprised, for he had found Ron perfectly alert every time he had been up to the hospital wing. – J. K. Rowling • My favorite name for a color is “puce.” It’s kind of a dried blood color. It’s a hideous color. But I love the word. It’s so euphonic. But my favorite colors are lavender, purple, periwinkle blue, and white. – Elizabeth Taylor • Oils of cinnamon and eucalyptus are as powerful against some microorganisms as conventional antibiotics, and are especially effective against flus. Sandalwood oil from Mysore, India, is not only a classic perfume oil but is also a traditional remedy for sore throats and laryngitis. Lavender oil, so often used in toilet waters and scented sachets, has a dramatic healing action on burns. – Robert Tisserand • One trick I swear by: I pour a little neroli or lavender oil onto a hot towel and use it to wipe off my makeup. It opens up my pores, and then my face cream sinks in better. – Courteney Cox • The air was fragrant with a thousand trodden aromatic herbs, with fields of lavender, and with the brightest roses blushing in tufts all over the meadows. – William C. Bryant • The raindrops played across the coast all through the night, until the soft new day shrugged itself awake, tried on amethyst and lavender for a while, and finally decided on pale yellow. – Gary D. Schmidt • The scent organ was playing a delightfully refreshing Herbal Capriccio – rippling arpeggios of thyme and lavender, of rosemary, basil, myrtle, tarragon; a series of daring modulations through the spice keys into ambergris; and a slow return through sandalwood, camphor, cedar and newmown hay (with occasional subtle touches of discord – a whiff of kidney pudding, the faintest suspicion of pig’s dung) back to the simple aromatics with which the piece began. The final blast of thyme died away; there was a round of applause; the lights went up. – Aldous Huxley • There are some things, after all, that Sally Owens knows for certain: Always throw spilled salt over your left shoulder. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Add pepper to your mashed potatoes. Plant roses and lavender, for luck. Fall in love whenever you can. – Alice Hoffman • To make a perfume, take some rose water and wash your hands in it, then take a lavender flower and rub it with your palms, and you will achieve the desired effect. – Leonardo da Vinci • Valentine’s Day money-saving tips: Break up on February 13th, get back together on the 15th. In place of bubble bath, use lavender-scented dish-washing liquid. Forget rose petals. Sprinkle the bed with sliced beets! – David Letterman • We lavender folk spray up, spontaneously flowering in the color we had learned as an identifying mark of our culture when it was subterranean and secret. – Judy Grahn • What a turnaround in sentiment ‘Glee’ exemplifies. It was only a few years ago that pursuing the dream of a Broadway career or cabaret stardom relegated some poor yearning dope to a lavender ghetto of losers, self-deluders, and social rejects. – James Wolcott • What woman, however old, has not the bridal-favours and raiment stowed away, and packed in lavender, in the inmost cupboards of her heart? – William Makepeace Thackeray • When hope is fleeting, stop for a moment and visualize, in a sky of silver, the crescent of a lavender moon. Imagine it — delicate, slim, precise, like a paper-thin slice from a cabochon jewel. It may not be very useful, but it is beautiful. And sometimes it is enough. – Vera Nazarian • When the light turns green, you go. When the light turns red, you stop. But what do you do when the light turns blue with orange and lavender spots? – Shel Silverstein • With this recitation of paraphernalia and detritus, O’Brien manages to encapsulate the experience of an army and of a particular war, of a mined and booby-trapped landscape, of cold nights and hot days, of soaking monsoons and rice paddies, and of the possibility of being shot, like Ted Lavender, suddenly and out of nowhere: not only in the middle of a sentence but in the midst of a subordinate clause. – Francine Prose • Womanist is to feminist as purple is to lavender. – Alice Walker • Yours is… il sent comme lavande.” Is that French for ‘You stink’?” It means ‘lavender’.” Huh.” She sniffed at her wrist. “I thought I smelled more like a grape Popsicle. – Lynn Viehl

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'a', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_a').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_a img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

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[talesofourworlds]

What emotion are you?

Longing.

Your longing is like a ghost, a haunting presence that follows you wherever you go. It is a feeling that slips in and out of your mind, a reminder of what you have lost, what you will never have. Don’t you wish to feel their touch again? It’s too late, so let me guide you. You can resist, it’s expected. The passion of your heart is like a wound that never heals, a scar that won't fade. Not even you can stop it.

Tagged by: @ofstarsandskies (thank you, Kika!)

Tagging: @mathcs, @ervaurem (Law?), @thosetaleskids (Laphicet!), @broadswordandpistol, @mistralxsoul, and anyone else who wants to!

#ooc #Like an Early Blooming Flower (Edna) #OW... this one hits my soul #She longs to be with her brother so much ;A;

[talesofourworlds]

"It is hereby earth seraph appreciation day. I accept all forms of gifts. Or simply worshiping the ground I walk upon will also be accepted."

#ic #Like an Early Blooming Flower (Edna) #open starter

[talesofourworlds]

How the Magic Gets Made

"Okay, I've had enough."

"What's up, Rita?"

"Yeah, you sound serious. I mean... more than usual."

"All these different magics, that's what! Fonic artes, crystal eres, astral artes, malak artes, seraphic artes... and that's not even mentioning the fact that they all have different systems!"

"Someone's in a bad mood."

"A foul mood, even. Foul mood Rita."

"It is a fascinating topic, isn't it? But I'd prefer to leave it well enough alone myself."

"No way! How can you just accept that and not even wonder about how they're all interconnected?"

"Rita's got a point, Jade. It is weird how different kinds of magics can be tied to the same arte. Like healing artes. What makes a Healing Circle cast with fonic artes different from one cast with mana?"

"Seraphic artes and malak artes are the exact same thing. Just named differently depending on how my kind was referred to."

"Aye. Exactly as Edna said."

"But you two were able to still use your artes when you were in my world! Even if it was in a rift that opened up in our world! I'm with you, Rita! Let's crack the code on what connects fonons, aer, mana, eres, astral energy, and everything else!"

"Now you're talking! Hell yeah, let's do this, Rinwell!"

"W-Wait for me! I want to help, too!"

"There they go."

"Indeed. Oh, to have that youthful energy again."

#ic #Pyrokinetic Genius (Rita) #Diligent Heart (Jude) #Magical Birdie Bestie (Rinwell) #Like an Early Blooming Flower (Edna) #Follows His Creed (Eizen) #Always One Step Ahead (Jade) #Chat It Up (Skits)

[talesofourworlds]

How adorable are you?

Rinwell is 1,000,000% adorable. I cant even comprehend this.

"C-come on, stop it! Hootle's the adorable one, not me!"

Chloe is 90% adorable. Extremely unusual, husband material.

"Seriously? I mean... I'm grateful, but come on. There's got to be people cuter than me... Also 'husband' material? Shouldn't that be 'wife'?"

Alisha is 10000% adorable. Can i squeeze your cheeks?

"Oh my... thank you."

Mieu is 100% adorable. If i could snug you, I would. Forever.

"Mieu! Thank you!!"

Nazamil is 750% adorable. You're corrupting my computer simply by being adorable.

"H-Huh? M-me...? Adorable...?"

Jude is 1000% adorable. I NEED YOU IM MY LIFE RN!!

"Oh, well, thank you!" He's just a little bit embarrassed, don't mind him.

Edna is 200% adorable. Beyond the borders of cuteness.

"Only 200? I demand a recount. My adorableness is off the charts."

#ic #Magical Birdie Bestie (Rinwell) #Seeking Victory (Chloe) #Strength of Heart (Alisha) #Sunshine and Optimism (Mieu) #To Be Myself (Nazamil) #Diligent Heart (Jude) #Like an Early Blooming Flower (Edna)

[talesofourworlds]

"Why do older brothers feel the need to be so protective?"

#ic #Like an Early Blooming Flower (Edna)

[talesofourworlds]

@vigilantevesperia liked for an autumn starter

"Huh. Even though the leaves are starting to change color everywhere else, Halure's tree is still as pink as ever."

Maybe that shouldn't have been surprising, Edna reflected. Still, she'd come with Yuri to Halure for the day and had noticed the change in season. It would have been hard not to, with people starting to go on about the chill in the mornings and the leaves changing. There was something nice about it, but also a touch melancholic.

"Though I guess they're petals. Not leaves," she mused. "Anyway. I can see why it'd still be a popular place for people to come. Who wouldn't like a nice walk around this place? Especially with an elegant lady at their side." Her smile turned a touch cheeky. By then she knew Yuri didn't quite see her that way. That was fine, though. Just a little playing around.

#ic #vigilantevesperia #Like an Early Blooming Flower (Edna) #Worlds Converging

[talesofourworlds]

@pyonpyonpyon Hurls Edna at Etude for spring festitales!

At the best of times, Edna was pretty indifferent to humans. Some days she might have even said she couldn't stand them. Well, she was at a festival and she was there to mingle. Therefore, she had to just accept that she was hanging around with humans. It seemed there was something in the air that made seraphs like her visible to the public, too, but it didn't alarm her. It wasn't the first time this sort of thing had happened. So, she went about her day and went from one stall to the next to see what was there.

Eventually, her journey just led to her milling around the village and admiring the scenery. Beautiful pink petals seemed to float down from the trees, decorating the ground. There was something pleasant about the sight, but Edna couldn't put her finger on what it was. She just felt at home, she guessed.

She knew she couldn't stick around that one spot forever, though. Sooner or later she would need to get going to find something to do. So, Edna turned. In the process she felt her umbrella collide with someone. Oops.

"Sorry," she said. Whether she actually was sorry or not was hard to tell. "Didn't see you. Got caught up in looking at the cherry blossoms."

#ic #pyonpyonpyon #Like an Early Blooming Flower (Edna) #springfestitales2023 #Hope this works for you! :D

[talesofourworlds]

“Humans never cease to find new ways to be tiring.”

#ic #Like an Early Blooming Flower (Edna) #open starter #I haven't met Edna in my current playthrough yet but I love her