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Sixteen
Danica came down the stairs slowly after showering, listening carefully to conversation in the main hall. She tiptoed down the last step, hoping not to be heard or sniffed out.
“A dress, for the dane?”
“Yes, Charley, a nice one, like for church. You can get her two, just so she has an extra one for whatever. She might end up needin' it.”
“And shoes? Or do you plan on her padding around in sneakers.”
“Whatever. I gave her the credit card. Get her what she needs, but don't be stupid with the money. I got bills to pay, too.”
“Uh-huh, sure.” Charley rolled her eyes at Gavin, knowing that the entire town supported the Alpha, and the Alpha family hadn't wanted for anything in almost 150 years.
Danica came around the corner, her eyes turned down, and her hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. She looked up slightly only to see Charley waiting, impatiently.
Charley stood about five foo
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“Alpha Terrell?” a soft voice asked from behind the door. He stood, slowly making his approach. Terrell cracked the door open to see Danica standing outside on trembling legs. “May I come in?” Terrell opened the door just wide enough to allow the young lady into his room. As he turned to her, his wolf growled, panted and pawed to be released. He stopped f
Center of the Iris ~ Pre ~
I know, I’m supposed to be a male, and strong, and dutiful. But the alpha-to-be, what a pain my ass! Gavin, the all-around guy, the football player, pride of the pack, you know the type. But wow, what a jerk! Last week, he knocked back a couple of shots with his buddies, ran down a few mailboxes with his ’64 Chevelle, and because his pop is the Alpha, nothing, not even a scratch of words, was even thought to be said to him. Two days ago, he backed over a fire hydrant with his dad’s company bulldozer. Sure, the little pups had a great time in this sweltering heat. But do you think nary an eye was blinked or crossed? Not a chance. Then there’s me. I’m physically what you would call the class nerd. I prefer my books, my study time. I’m an introvert, as they call it. Am I physically fit? Sure, for what it’s worth. I can definitely hold my own. But I’m short, only 5’7”. I have hair the color of spicy mustard. I wear glasses because my allergies screw with
Center of the Iris One
I don’t think anyone saw it coming. I, Terrell Gladson, was at least the most surprised. When the beautiful raven-haired cheerleader shifted her first time, we all knew, just knew, that she and Gavin were mates. But her scent… it drove me mad. I could smell her showering, in her house, over a mile away. She was the beauty queen, and it surprised no one that everyone loved her. Her sleek white smile. Her graceful, anvil cut calves. Her soft tanned skin glimmering in the sunlight. She was truly beautiful. I could smell her. I knew it was her. And I was horridly confused. I followed the scent, almost unwillingly, deep into the heart of the woods. I saw her body go through the pain staking first shift. The sickening crack of her ribs, her knees inverting as the jeans she wore shredded effortlessly aware from them. Her falling forward, paws out-stretched, exhausted. I shifted before she saw me. But she could smell me,
Center of the Iris Two
Two nights later would be the preparations for the hunt. To find out who in the pack would really take on the new alpha and beta, and who would be discarded like old filaments of photo reels. I told my father that I had no interest in the hunt. That the entire idea sickened me. What I hadn’t told him was that Anastasia had rejected me. I think he knew. But as respectful as the man was, he had no reason to pry into such matters of teenagers. I was eighteen now and if I couldn’t handle something on my own, then so be it. That was the way of the pack. You either made it, or you did not. There was no, hey let me help you with that. I just really wished that June was over. In July, I would leave for Stanford, and never, never look back. Major college essay? My father didn’t buy it. He knew I had finished that six months ago, revised it, and sent it off to my new potential professors. I had already received it back, red marked like some 3rd grade
Center of the Iris Three
Those last couple of weeks were hell in that village. Everyone, and I mean everyone, glared at me. Graduation was the worst. They threatened to take away my diploma just because I didn’t “respect the hunt.” “Terrell the Terrible, the name rings so high!” Just like Ivan the Terrible, or the Hitler of their town, they taunted me. My father hired an outside human lawyer when they threatened my diploma. The attorney made some wheels and deals, and on the 17th of June, I walked with my class, got my diploma, tossed my tassle to the side and flipped everyone off as I walked off that stage. There was nothing they could do to me now. I knew the plan. Graduate. Get in the car. And get. The. Hell. Out. Of. Town. My father had made up his mind that he was coming with me to Stanford. He said he could use the change of scenery. But I knew better. He needed to get out of town before they banned him from the pack.
Center of the Iris Four
Seven years later… Terrell sat back in his apartment. Alone, he quietly pondered his next steps. Last week he walked the stage with top honors in law. He had passed his bars. He was officially an attorney. His father was so proud, standing there in the beating sun and taking pictures of his son as that graceful gown seemed to float around him. Only this time, there were no middle fingers involved. There was no telling a small town to piss off. It was him. Terrell Gladson and his day of glory. But now, as he sat in his empty apartment, he started to feel the emptiness seeping in. The same emptiness he felt that night of the accident when he rejected Anastasia. A deep, hollowness that penetrated his thoughts, and sometimes, his very soul. The thought of, you will always be alone. Terrell was the epitome of puberty done right. The old glasses were gone, Lasix taking their place and clearing any horrid eyesigh
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