George’s POV
I watched her devour the food swiftly. For someone of her stature, her appetite surprised me. Thousands of questions danced in my mind, eager to escape my lips.
The tales of werewolves, once dismissed as mere myths, unfolded before my disbelieving eyes.
In her, I beheld a beauty so rare, a beauty that transcended mere humanity. Her charm, a potent blend of beauty and a captivating physique, left me momentarily breathless.
She caught my gaze, and embarrassment washed over me, prompting me to clear my throat quickly.
"I must be quite the chef," I remarked, a swell of pride in my voice. She responded with a cool dismissal.
"No, I'm just hungry."
A sting of sarcasm laced her words, a trait I found oddly adorable.
"Thank you," she murmured. Smiling, I blurted.
"I'd gladly cook for you for the rest of my life." However, my attempt at charm was met with a scornful glance.
"Hmmph," she exclaimed. She prepared to leave, but I impulsively halted her.
"Wait!"
"Have you ever been here before? Not all humans might be as accommodating as I am toward a werewolf," I awkwardly explained.
She remained silent, her cinnamon-brown eyes casting a confusing spell on me.
"Trust me, you can stay here and rest," I pleaded, trying to avoid sounding desperate.
"If you say humans won't welcome me, then why are you accommodating me?" she questioned.
"I'm not claiming to be a saint. I just want you to be careful," I clarified.
"Okay," she agreed, walking toward the couch to sit. Curious, I inquired.
"So, how did you end up here?"
"I ran away from home," she confessed.
"That must be serious for you to have ended up here," I sympathized.
"Where can I bathe?" she asked, avoiding the topic.
"Follow me," I directed her to the bathroom.
"You... know how to use that, right?" I asked, realizing the awkwardness of my question. She raised an eyebrow in response.
"I'm sorry," I apologized.
I must be observing her from a different perspective, considering I've never met a werewolf. I allowed her to shower and, lacking female clothes in the house, I offered her mine.
Emerging from the bedroom in my oversized shorts and shirt, she looked even more stunning in an unexpected way.
She remained mostly silent throughout the day, opting for sleep. As she rested, I cleaned another room to move there, offering her my room for as long as she needed.
The next day, I prepared breakfast, and our interactions gradually increased.
After lunch, we found ourselves engaged in a more extended conversation. Seated on separate couches, my gaze fixed on her.
"Could you tell me more about yourself?" I asked, pleading for a connection. In an attempt to ease the atmosphere, I began.
"To make you more comfortable, I'll start." Her eyes focused on me.
"I'm George, as I mentioned before, and I'm human," I blurted, immediately regretting the unnecessary clarification. Her presence seemed to take apart my composure.
"I have two sisters. My father is a businessman, and my mother is a civil servant. I'm the youngest," I explained, trying to bridge the gap.
"I went to school and am currently a businessman, but I love adventure and cherish my alone time," I added with a hopeful smile.
She remained silent, her gaze still fixed on me. I gestured, signalling that it was her turn to share.
"Oh! I'm the Alpha's daughter, and I have a brother..."
"Wait, you're an Alpha's daughter? Like the king?" I inquired, fueled by curiosity.
"Well, not exactly, but you can call it that way," she replied with a small smile.
"So, you're a princess?" I asked again.
"No, I'm not a princess," she noted with a straight face.
"It might take me a while to understand how things work. Do you have school over there?" I questioned.
"How else are we communicating?" she responded with a rhetorical question.
"Good point."
"Do you also have cars?" I asked.
"Yes, but not many".
"We have telephones here for communication, not in every home, though. What about you guys?" I inquired.
"Mind link."
"I don't understand, is that some sort of device?" I asked.
"No, it's a lifeline werewolves use to communicate with their minds within a pack, although I have a problem with that."
"And about your wolf, how do you..." I was interrupted.
"Can I at least rest?" she requested.
"Forgive me, I just have a lot to ask," I apologized.
Feeling overwhelmed and realizing I needed more time to comprehend werewolves, I informed her that I would be stepping out.
After a trip to the nearby town for provisions, I returned to find her sleeping. As I started preparing dinner, she woke up.
Trying to restrain my curiosity, I resisted asking too many questions, but my inquisitiveness got the better of me.
The more she shared, the more fascinating it became. During dinner, as candlelight flickered in the room, she posed a question.
“How long do you intend to stay here?”
"For as long as you want," I responded, my gaze momentarily caught in the depths of hers.
"Will you allow me to stay here for a few days?" she asked, her words hung in the air.
"Of course. It'll be my pleasure," I replied with a smile, a warmth spreading between us, setting the stage for something unspoken but noticeable.
As night fell, our conversation deepened, we shared stories, a few laughs and whispered beliefs.
The vulnerability in her eyes began to unfold, like a delicate blossom opening to the moonlit night.
Late at night, we retreated to our separate rooms, my thoughts lingered on her.
Tempted to cross the boundary of our separate spaces, I wanted to check on her. I hung back not to seem a weirdo.
The next morning I rose early, and quickly went to her room to see how she was doing.
But she was not there, and the fear of losing her gripped me, the realization of a newfound emotion taking root.
Panic set in as I checked the surroundings and called out her name, receiving no response. What if someone took her away?
What if the world discovered the forbidden being in my place and hurt her while I was sleeping? So many questions ran through my mind.
And then, there she was a majestic white wolf I had seen before in the morning light.
As the wolf shifted into Lyra, relief surged through me, and I couldn't help but pull her into an embrace.
Amid the uneasiness of uncertainty, I felt something deeper stir. It was more than the fear of losing her.
It was the recognition of a connection that transcended the boundaries of the known.
Lyra’s POV As my wolf neared the cottage, I observed George in a state of panic outside. Taking charge, I shifted. Surprisingly, he hurried towards me and enveloped me in an embrace. “Mate,” resonated my wolf's voice. “But he's human, how is that possible?” I inquired, yet silence met my question, not that her silence was an unfamiliar response. Against all odds, it seemed we were descending into something inexplicable. “You do realize I'm undressed, right?” were the words that escaped my lips. "Oh! I apologize," he muttered, turning away and swiftly taking off his shirt, his gaze avoiding mine. I pondered why he was making such a fuss. We were right in front of the house, and I intended to step inside and grab a dress. Encountering him shirtless again was nearly unbearable. He resembled a perfect Greek god. "Where did you go?" he inquired. "I went for a run with my wolf," I replied nonchalantly. "Lyra, no one can see your wolf. No one must know you're a werewolf," he cau
Lyra’s POV I was taken aback by my father's harsh words, his departure leaving behind a void devoid of remorse. "Don't worry, sister," Damian consoled. "He's just angry. I'm sure he'll come around." "Where's mother?" I managed to ask through the turmoil of emotions. "She must be inside. Let's go to her," Damian suggested in his presence, a reassuring hand on my shoulder. As we entered, my eyes sought out my mother, and I rushed to her, seeking solace in her embrace. However, her response was not as warm as I had hoped. "Sit, Lyra," she said calmly, her voice carrying a weight of disappointment. "Damian, could you give us some space?" she requested. He nodded understandingly and retreated, leaving us alone in her chambers. "I'm so sorry, Mother," I pleaded, my words heavy with regret. "I didn't mean to bring you shame. Please forgive me.” "Hmm," was her only response. "Father said some hurtful words to me. Please, help me plead on my behalf," I pressed on, desperate for
Lra’s POV My journey stretched on longer than before, each step weighed down by the burden of sadness that clung to me like a cloak. When I finally shifted back, I found myself shivering in the cold, the thin dress Damian had included in the bag offering little protection against the biting wind. Despite my exhaustion, sleep eluded me until the early hours of the morning, when sheer weariness finally overcame the ache in my heart. When I awoke, hunger gnawed at me. With trembling hands, I reached into the bag and retrieved some fruits, devouring them hungrily before pressing on. As night fell once more, I found myself alone in the darkness of the woods, the eerie silence broken only by the rustling of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl. The next morning, weary and famished, I finally reached George's doorstep and knocked. He opened the door, my face drawn and distressed. Without a word, he enfolded me in a warm embrace. "You look so pale. Are you okay?" he asked, concern
Lyra's POVThe next morning, as the sun cast its gentle glow through the windows of the cottage, George approached me with a look of determination in his eyes."I have something important to discuss with you," he announced, his voice tinged with a hint of nervousness.I nodded, eager to hear what he had to say, though my heart fluttered with anticipation."You see, I'm a businessman," George began, his words carefully chosen. "And while I sought refuge in this secluded cottage to escape the chaos of the city, it's time for me to return."My breath caught in my throat. "So, I get to stay here, right?" I asked, trying to mask the disappointment that threatened to surface. But George shook his head, his gaze unwavering."No, I want you to come with me. I can't bear the thought of leaving you alone in this secluded place."A rush of warmth flooded my chest at his words, and I couldn't help but feel a surge of affection f
Lyra’s POVEntering the city, the uproar of sounds assaulted my heightened senses, causing my nose to bleed.The relentless sound of vehicle horns, machinery whirring, angry drivers, children's voices, and a lot of other noises overwhelmed me.The mixture of scents, from people, dogs, food, and countless other odours, only added to my disorientation."Are you okay?" George's voice cut through the chaos, his concern evident in both his tone and his eyes."I will be. Let's get to your place," I managed to reply.He handed me his handkerchief to contain the flow of blood from my nose, and with a sense of urgency, he navigated through the congested streets. Each passing moment felt like an eternity until finally, we arrived at his residence.Thankfully his house was situated in a calm neighborhood, a stark contrast to the chaotic streets we had just passed. As the driver opened the gates, my eyes widened in awe at
Lyra's POV Before evening, George had arranged for a cage for my parrot. As we sat down for dinner in the elegant dining room, the ambience was disrupted when I reached for the cutlery. To my horror, the silver utensils burned my skin, emitting a sizzling sound upon contact. I flinched, dropping them immediately. “What's wrong?” George's voice was filled with concern as he noticed my distress. “I believe these are pure silver,” I whispered, my hand throbbing from the burn. George swiftly fetched the first aid kit, tending to my injured hand with a gentle touch. “I'm sorry,” he apologized, but I couldn't shake the feeling of guilt. It was I who should have been apologizing for causing him undue stress. After bandaging my hand, George instructed the maids to replace all the silverware in the kitchen with golden ones before the next morning. Despite their confusion, they nodded and left to fulfil his request. “I'm sorry,” I murmured, feeling the weight of my abnormality. “Don't
George's POVIt was as if Lyra had been intentionally pushing me off all day. Despite sensing her mischievous intent, I brushed it off, attributing her behaviour to the headache she had been complaining about.When I awoke in the dead of night, a nagging feeling compelled me to check on her. As I entered her room, the empty bed sent a chill down my spine.My initial thought of her being in the bathroom dissolved into a grim realization, she might have ventured out to shift.My gaze darted to the parrot perched in its cage. "You understand me, don't you? Where is Lyra?" I demanded, struggling to decipher its frantic squawks.A sense of urgency gripped me as I pleaded, "She could be in danger out there. Can you help me find her?"Whether the bird comprehended my plea or not, it promptly took flight the moment I opened its cage. "Well, I guess I'm on my own," I muttered to myself.Without hesitation, I grabbed a large s
Lyra's POVSince our return from the cottage, I've been gloomy, burdened by guilt for stressing George unnecessarily.Replacing all the silverware in the house brought a fleeting comfort but deepened my remorse.The following day, I couldn't find joy in my usual TV shows, my mind consumed by thoughts of my life and purpose.Skipping lunch, I drifted into a restless sleep on the couch, only to be haunted by a dream where my parents watched me fall, offering no rescue. I awoke gasping, heart pounding, the dream's vividness intensifying my already sour mood.George returned in the evening, noticing my uneaten lunch. "Let's go out," he suggested."I don't want to add to your stress," I confessed."Have I ever mentioned being stressed?" George's sincerity cut through my uneasiness.Reluctantly, I accepted his invitation and followed him upstairs. While he freshened up in his room, I did the same.I selected