I remember, the first time I met a werewolf. It was so silly and naive.
He was PERFECT: Blonde hair like the sun, eyes like Cleopatra’s emeralds and muscles that rippled like the red sea. I even shiver now thinking about him; he looked at me and smiled with only one side of his face. The darkness in his heart, the curiosity in his smile, with my heightened senses and my heart that had already sped up ten to the dozen, I was overwhelmed. He heard it – my heart. Each beat drew him closer to me till his strong stare took mine into his grasp.
I looked at Lazarus with a childish grin, he stared back at me but it wasn’t as intense. He had the looks, but, the strength was missing. I looked away, it had been so long, I know I could probably get anyone I wanted with a snap of my fingers but I’m picky. That night, the first time... was so great. He was so... great.
That night, we waited till past twilight, the moon was setting beneath the Giza pyramids and he carried me into the Dunes. I never would’ve dared to step foot there, but, the heat or cold didn’t seem to bother me – or him. He wore only jeans, and they were gone in a flash. “You’re gorgeous,” he whispered into my ear, “not even the female Were’s hold up to you.” I grinned, writhing under him to get into a better position. He kissed me, then, softly as if picking up a feather. I was staring up at the star-studded night sky and he grinned as they were mirrored in my eyes.
We stayed together for a while, till we were tore apart by his ‘nature’ or rather, his ‘pack.’ I was not a proper werewolf and so they hated my presence, I still believe that they were scared of me. Either way, I lost the man I loved which led me to my obsession with the man-wolves. I admit it, ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder,’ but I always keep him close. You however, would probably say it’s kinda creepy.
I keep another book, full of werewolves and their lives. Every werewolf alive today and were alive when I started the book. What pack they belong to, their picture, name and spouse. If events change, then I magic it away and change it. Of course, he is on the front page, greeting me as soon as I open it. His smile, his eyes, his sandy blonde hair and skin; I took it one day when we were out in the desert, he smiled at me after the Camel threw me off, so I picked up my camera and snapped his laughter into eternity.
I have a confession though: Lazarus’ life was my fault. Him and Melissa was so happy, it was killing me, that she had what I didn’t, she was allowed the perfect werewolf that happy perfect love. So, I made her pregnant with a spell, I knew it would kill her, I knew she wouldn’t be able to cope. Then I made her human. It was me.
Now he’s sat here, wasted out of his head and I’m forced to come to terms with it. But he won’t know. I can imagine what he’d try to do....
and he would lose.