I smiled and snuggled up to him more, letting all my soft curves that he seemed to favor rest against his massive, hard bulk of a body. The man could have played the hulk without special effects. And, he belonged to me.
“I finally have the perfect ending to my love story. I’ll have to re-write it. This is better, and more magical, literally, than I even imagined it,” I giggled like a school girl, reveling in the flutter of mirth that washed over my skin like a slight waterfall even as the butterflies in my stomach danced.
“You wrote a love story? When?”
“Well, I’d tried once before, long ago, but knowing little about it, having not experienced it for myself, I failed miserably. I mean, it is one thing to make up a talk about something that can’t exist, like werewolves, for example,” I laughed heartily then, letting it take any residual tension from last night from my body.
“Funny,” he laughed along with me, giving me a light spank on my ass.
“Oh,” I groaned. “You go there, I won’t be able to think.”
“Oh, I’ll go there, but first, I want to hear about this love story,” he coaxed, even though he rubbed his hand over my butt, making me wiggle as I struggled to re-focus my thoughts.
“Well, as I was saying,” I stumbled, “as with fictional, paranormal tales, werewolves and vampires…wait, are there vampires, too, then, since there are sorcerers and werewolves?”
“Yes, there are actually. Not to scare you, but I once saved you from one. But, you are evading, I think?”
“No honestly, just putting that together. And, we will get back to that once I’m done. Not even going to let myself think on it, in fact,” I said and shuttered.
He rubbed his hands over my arms, drew me back into him even tighter.
“Anyway, after you abruptly left me a few weeks back, my only way to deal was to write. So, first I wrote out every minute of the time we’d spent together. One to re-live it, and two to sort through it, look for answers, a clue as to why you had walked out so suddenly the way you did.”
“I’m so sorry. I saw you writing, and I felt you missing me, but I didn’t realize that you were writing about me,” he mumbled.
His hand on my arm now rubbed hard, as if he could sooth away the damage with his touch. I hoped he sensed how well his plan worked.
“I know. Anyway, as far as the story goes, I decided that I would give myself a happy ending. I imagined how I wanted it to go, me seeing you again, your apology, and our happy ever after. It helped to write it out. Only now, I think I need to re-write it. My ending wasn’t nearly as wonderful as last night. You will make me a better writer. I may even try my hand at erotic romance. Who knew I was so free?”
“I always loved to watch you write, to sense the changes in you as you did. You never walk away from the keyboard worse, you always seem better. I’m glad you had that outlet to help you deal with the injustices of your life, some of the more difficult hands you were dealt. As a protector, to not be able to shield you from the pain of losing one parent and then another... well, it was a struggle I can’t explain. Oh, and the erotica thing sounds good.”
I huffed as I pondered the magnitude of that confession. “I wish I had always known that my wolf was always out there, and what he was doing. If I had known I’d had such a guardian, not only watching me, but loving me, it could have made such a difference in so many ways.”
“Maybe. But, it may have just complicated things in other ways. There is no way of knowing, but the sorceress believes that to interfere too much changes the order of life, of fate, which she strongly believes in. In a way, with her magic, when she created a new race of werewolves, she feels that she altered fate somehow, and that in some way, these other true werewolves hunting you down, well, that is karma, her fault, and you and others of your bloodline are the ones to pay the price. That is one of the reasons we are to stay close and vigilant, but to the biggest degree we can, distant and removed from your lives.”
“Yes,” I thought out loud, “I guess if I’d had to live with the knowledge that some group of men, no, not just men, but men who turned into wolves, hunted me… well, that could have made a huge difference in the way I lived. I mean, just the attack, random as it was in that parking lot, and about money and a car rather than a personal vendetta, it changed me, the way I walked, existed in the world. I felt hunted even though I knew that man would never find me again.”