Nice to meet you

The sun has shone, casting a warm glow inside her room—but the events of last night kept her frozen on her bed with a blanket draped over her shoulder, shuddering and cursing at her father for asking her to attend the conference. She knew it, she had always known that werewolves seem to prefer her compared to other women.

She had experienced countless emotional trauma due to the abominable race when she was a child. Many a time she told her parents, but they never believed her. They brushed it off as an overly imaginative state. A phase that they said will eventually go away in time—yet it never did, and she believes, it never will.

She finds it curious though, the thing that came at her that night is not a werewolf, it was an ordinary wolf. She had been near an ordinary animal such as the one from last night, but never did they act in the same way as that wolf. It felt like it possessed intelligence, like that of a normal human being—like that, of an actual werewolf.

"Miss, would you like to have breakfast?" one of her guards whispered. She gazed at them, she is now surrounded by all ten guards that came with her. The night they found her screaming and yelling for help, none of them decided to leave. Verra can see the worry in their eyes. Although she is pissed and obviously scared, wanting to find blame in everyone around her, she can't find the heart to lash out at the guards. It is not their fault. They did exactly what she had asked of them, and it was her mistake, to have left the balcony door unlocked.

But that's one of the many things that baffled her. She closed the balcony door and left it unlocked, but even so, how could the animal have entered her room? Did someone open the door for it? Clearly, it's paws did not have the ability to open the sliding door. No, one must have a functioning finger to pry it open. So how?

"Miss?" the same guard whispered.

Verra shook her head in hopes to clear her thoughts. She musnt allow the events of last night to control her. She will get through the day, attend the conference two days after, and then, return to her family house and demand for the freedom her father agreed upon, in exchange for her, attending the Blue Ridge conference.

"Yes, I would love to have breakfast" she answered. Her smile and sudden cheer seemed to have relaxed the guards before her. Their previously stiff stance finally softened. She must have worried them more than she thought Verra mused.

After three hours, Verra is now walking the streets of Blue Ridge Town. Numerous stalls has been set-up, selling weird looking items, like the one she now held in her hand. It is a necklace with an arrow shaped pendant, made of an animal's bone. The seller, an old woman promised that the necklace is a charm which will help her someday. Verra is not a superstitious person, but she didn't have the heart to refuse the old woman. Despite her better judgement, she purchased the item and surprisingly, put it around her neck.

As she reached the final stall, she caught sight of the most handsome man that ever graced her eyes. He is looming over a wide spread of charms, picking up one, then another—inspecting each piece like they were some sort of precious gems.

Verra is never one to introduce herself first, but there is something about him which drew her to walk towards his side.

"That one looks great" she murmured, keeping her gaze steady on the necklace made of pink beads which the man held delicately between his fingers.

"Yes, I agree" he answered, without turning to face her.

Verra had her fair share of ridiculously handsome man, but this guy found himself on top of her list. His long ebony locks that fell six inches below his shoulders glimmered under the punishing rays of the afternoon sun. His creamy complexion and long lashes paralized her eyes. Even the way his black and white suite cradled his obviously buffed body, sent her blood to boil—in a good and bad way.

Good, because it made her feel excited. Bad, because she suddenly felt wet. A feeling which sent her cheeks to take on a dark pinkish hue. She can feel the rising of her temperature and that is her signal. She must bolt, before the man notices her unease. So, without saying another word to him, she ran away.

If there is one thing a wolf is good at, that will be the use of their senses, specially their nose. He did not believe it at fist, but the smell made it clear. She found him attractive. She had an animalistic reaction to his presence, and responded better than he anticipated.

She is so much like her, he thought to himself as he watched the woman's form dissappear behind the pooling crowd of people headed his way.

Yes, he will not kill her—not just yet.

He will learn everything he wants to know, and after, he can end her for taking his beloved's form.

Last night, he decided to take a new approach. His form as an ordinary wolf is now compromised. So, he decided upon the easiest, his human counterpart.

But, it has been a difficult task to act the part of a human being, he only used this form—probably thrice in the previous years. He is more comfortable in the shape of a normal wolf. Even the use of clothing is a task for him, he had never gotten used to it. He loved the freedom of being an ordinary animal, roaming the inside of his and her mountain, the place where his real beloved lay rest.

If Verra can slap herself she would, but to hit her own face amidst the hundreds of people that walked along the street she is currently trudging, will definitely cause an uproar. She can almost hear the whispers, the lady of the Constantine family, hit herself in public like a deranged woman. That will definitely push her father to the edge.

She slowly made her way back to the hotel, unable to look the four guards who had been shadowing her in the previous hours in the eye. Can they feel it? Or probably hear the slush of wet cloth beneath her skirt?

What the hell did that man do to her, Verra thought to herself. She had felt attraction for the opposite sex, even indulged in actual sex—but never, and she means never had she reacted this way. She was practically drooling over than man, with both her lips, hungry for attention.

She shook her head, unable to believe the craziness of her reaction. Had she deprived herself too much in the previous months?

Well, she had been inactive—down there, for about eight months now. But, she can't say with certainty that the cause is deprivation of physical contact. No, there was something about that guy. But what?

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