Sorry, everyone, for the 'cliffhanger' in the last chapter. It was not my intention when I submitted it, it was just a natural stopping point in an already long chapter, and created a natural starting point for the next. But I digress...
As it wasn't my intention to tease with the ending, I am pushing up the submission of the next chapter. Be warned, though, that this may make the wait for any subsequent chapter a bit longer. And it may not be as well edited as the previous three. For any glaring mistakes or typos or incongruous plot points I apologize. I do believe I caught at least the majority, but without a fourth and fifth comb-thru...more may have slipped through than I like.
Let me say again thank you to everyone for their support and encouragement. This has been a lot of fun to write, almost as much fun as reading your emails and comments.
And of course -- thank you to X.
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"Shit," Damien muttered, looking down at Charlie's limp form. He knew she would wake up soon, but he was hoping it wouldn't be before he had time to figure out what he was going to say to her. This was
not
how he wanted her to find out.
'Is Charlie gonna be okay?' Lewis -- the tan wolf -- asked.
'She'll be fine. She's just fainted,' Damien sent back, trying to ease Lewis' conscience. He could feel the remorse rolling off the big guy.
'Sorry Mr. Dimeo, she ran and I couldn't help myself.' Lewis sat back and howled.
'Enough, Lewis. No one is blaming you.' The tan wolf quieted but looked at the woman on the ground, his ears back and tail between his legs. Damien sighed and looked at the brown wolf behind Lewis. 'Adrian -- take Lewis back to the dorm and make sure he's settled for the night.'
'Yes, Mr. Dimeo.' He nudged Lewis to follow him back, pausing to look back at Damien and Charlie. 'Sorry about that, Mr. Dimeo. Lewis just kind of took off after her before I knew what was happening.'
'I understand, Adrian.'
'Congratulations on finding your one,' Adrian offered as he and Lewis head back to the dorm.
"Congratulations indeed," Damien said. He crouched next to Charlie, smoothing her hair away from her face gently. "Fuck it," he sighed, and started to gently to shake her shoulder. "Charlie? Wake up my love," he called softly. She seemed so still, if he couldn't see her heartbeat and the slight rise of her chest he would be worried. He released a breath he didn't realize he was holding when her eyes fluttered open. "Charlotte," he whispered, caressing her cheek.
Her eyes went wide and she scooted back from him. "Don't," was all she said. She quickly stood, brushing herself off and staring at Damien.
"I'm sorry," he said. She snorted at that, but didn't speak. He took a deep breath and stood as he scented her, her anger was overcoming her fear, and he decided to push forward and started moving towards her. "I am so sorry."
"You think that counts for anything? How dare you. How
dare
you keep something like this from me." She slapped at his shoulder, connecting with a grunt. She looked up at his face as he winced -- it didn't hurt him, but the sound surprised him -- and she went wild, slapping and punching at him uncontrollably. The only sounds were her hands hitting him and her labored breathing. This wasn't anger, it was fury, and all Damien could do was stand and let it run through her until it was spent.
It didn't take long.
One moment she was punching at his chest, her arms swinging wildly, and the next she was on her knees, head down, panting.
"I'm going to puke," she said weakly. Damien dropped to his knees beside her and gathered her hair one hand, his other running up and down her back. She sat still, not acknowledging him, concentrating on her breathing until the urge to vomit passed. "Don't touch me," she said quietly.
"I'm just trying to help," he said.
"I'm fine. Just...don't touch me." She sat back on her bottom and crossed her legs when she felt him move away.
"We need to talk, Charlie," he said, sitting next to her. He was close enough to touch her if she would let him, but not close enough to make her feel threatened by him.
"It's a little late for that," she snorted.
"I...I'm sorry. I really am. I should have told you sooner, I..." he trailed off.
"You what?"
"It never seemed to be the right time, I guess."
She gave a mirthless chuckle at that. "Here's a tip for the next girl you hook up with: tell her
before
you leave your ball prints embedded in her ass."
"Dolcezza-"
"You can't exist; you do know that, right?" she suddenly said, cutting him off. She turned to look at him and the pain on her face made Damien feel as if his heart was being squeezed. "You just can't." She turned away again. "And why the fuck are you naked?"
"I do exist Charlie. We do exist. What you saw was real." He paused, wanting so desperately for her to believe him. "I'm naked because the clothes tear when we change."
She shook her head in denial even as she continued to question him. "Everyone here are...they're like you?"
"Yes. Everyone on the ranch." She made an odd coughing noise at that. "What?"
"Impossible," she muttered.
"Charlotte-"
"No!" She turned to look at him. "It's not possible. You can't turn in to a giant dog at will."
"Wolf."
"Making barking noises? Really?" she gave him a cold look.
"What? No. No, not 'woof'," Damien clarified. "Wolf. With an 'l'."
"Wolf what?"
"I turn in to a wolf, not a dog. I'm a werewolf."
"Impossible." She sighed, looking away from him again. "It's not even a full moon! And -- and --who ever heard of werewolf cowboys?"
"Ranchers."
"Seriously? Correcting me? That's rich coming from a naked guy in a field." She rolled her eyes. "That can't even fucking exist!" She clenched her fists and pounded on her thighs, looking -- for all her forty years -- as if she was in the middle of a temper tantrum. "Werewolves are myths! Made up tales to account for man's baser nature. You're not fucking real."
"I am, dolcezza. I am real, I am a werewolf." He looked at her, the tension in her readily apparent. "I wish you would look at me."
"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, and his heart wept at her broken tone.
"I was going to. Tonight, in fact." She looked at him at that but didn't speak. "I should have before. I should have told you at the beginning, but..."
"But what?"
"I was scared to. I was afraid I would chase you away." She raised a brow at that, but she didn't look away, and Damien took it as a good sign. "I was. I had only just found you, and I didn't want to risk losing you."
"Found me?"
"You're mine. You're my mate, my one."
"Excuse me?"
"Werewolves have one mate, one partner they are fated to be with. We can't settle down or start a family with anyone else. And we search for them until we either find them or die."
"And you believe I am the one you're fated to be with?"
