CHAPTER FIVE

Within the confines of our humble abode, a two-bedroom apartment nestled in close proximity to the bustling gates of our college, I found solace upon my bed.

Little did I know that my sanctuary would soon be invaded, shattering the tranquility and causing my heart to leap within my chest.

Without warning, my roommate burst into my room, a habitual offense that never failed to provoke irritation.

With disapproval etched upon my face, I questioned her, my annoyance palpable.

It was a breach of privacy that gnawed at my senses, the constant fear of being caught in compromising situations plaguing my thoughts.

What if she stumbled upon me in a state of undress, engaged in intimate moments, or entwined in the arms of a lover?

Though she was my senior, expected to be a confidante and mentor, I couldn't help but despise this particular trait of hers. It spoke of immaturity and a lack of respect.

Regret seeped into my thoughts, questioning my decision to share a living space with her.

"Can you not knock?" I snapped, my annoyance escaping through my words. It wasn't just the intrusion itself that bothered me; it was the audacity of it all.

She barged in, uninvited and unwelcome, just to inform me of her upcoming rendezvous with one of her many boyfriends.

It felt oppressive, a suffocating weight upon my shoulders.

Yes, a peculiar sense of oppression and envy gnawed at my soul.

She flitted from one date to another, leaving me to ponder the nature of her relationships.

And though she wasn't a prostitute, I couldn't help but let my mind wander into such forbidden territories.

"Babe, let me finish," she interrupted, her astonishment at my icy demeanor apparent. Unfazed, she continued speaking, her words falling upon unwilling ears.

"Matt will be here at five, and I won't be around. Just tell him I went to church, alright?"

A surge of rage coursed through my veins, threatening to engulf me entirely.

How dare she make such a request? Not only had she barged into my private space uninvited, but she also expected me to play a part in her deceitful charade, misleading an unsuspecting young man undoubtedly infatuated with the conniving temptress before me.

Blasphemy! My anger swelled, stirring the dormant beast within me—a fierce, primal entity yearning for release.

Visions of violence danced before my eyes, the temptation to tear out her throat tantalizingly close. But I fought against the rage, taking deep breaths in an attempt to regain control.

My true nature, that of a werewolf, was a secret to be guarded at all costs. Any deviation from composure risked unleashing the insatiable lust for chaos and carnage dwelling within me.

"Alright," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. It was the safest response, a protective shield guarding my true identity. Anything more would have invited confrontation and compromised my delicate balance.

Her name was Magdalena, a force to be reckoned with.

A badass in her own right, she exuded an alpha energy that transcended her human form.

Though not a werewolf herself, she embodied a rebellious spirit, a tomboyish charm that set her apart from the norm.

And while her uniqueness held a certain allure, it clashed with my own sensibilities.

Grateful for my reluctant compliance, Magdalena swiftly exited the room, leaving behind a resounding thud as the door slammed shut.

In its wake, I remained motionless on my bed, seeking solace in steady breaths and the pursuit of peaceful thoughts.

Minutes passed, and I found myself inadvertently eavesdropping on the conversation between Magdalena and her boyfriend as they prepared for their evening tryst.

The gift of heightened hearing, bestowed upon me with my transformation, allowed me glimpses into their intimate exchange. Romantic words filled the air, intermingling with the tender sounds of their lips locked in a passionate embrace.

Pity surged within me, a compassionate ache for the unsuspecting lover ensnared by Magdalena's alluring figure, her curves, and her tantalizing lips.

One might assume she surpassed me in physical attractiveness, especially through conventional feminine standards.

And while I acknowledged her charms, I took solace in the knowledge that I, too, possessed assets worthy of admiration. My bosom, fuller and more alluring than hers, served as a small consolation, a whispered reminder of my own allure.

Lost in daydreams, thoughts of Victor consumed my mind.

His presence, a radiant flame amidst the mundane landscape of our college, ignited a longing within me.

His deep, mature voice resonated in my ears, his handsome face adorned with irresistible dimples.

Every strand of his dark, curly hair seemed to dance in perfect harmony, framing his chiseled frame—a work of art carved by the gods themselves.

As I relished the memories of our encounters, my hand instinctively began to explore, tracing forbidden paths of pleasure.

Moans escaped my lips, a symphony of ecstasy filling the room. My sleeveless blouse slipped, revealing one of my breasts, suspended enticingly upon the edge of my garment.

Just as I reached for a hidden vibrator, promising heightened sensations, the shrill ring of my phone shattered the erotic haze that enveloped me.

With sheer delight, I discovered the caller to be none other than the charming young man who had invaded my thoughts. Without a second thought, I answered, my voice oozing with sweetness and anticipation.

"Hello," I greeted, a mischievous smile playing upon my lips, hoping for a wonderful conversation with the cute hottie.