9.5 - Luna Cycles

Sativa
It was very simple for the Luna's Cycle to be smelt on you. And, that I suppose, is what I feared the most. The whole Pack would know, and worst of all, Romanov would know. It wasn't as if I had been in celibacy before, but for a while now, I hadn't a boyfriend. And, any sexual relations that I had involved myself with, was nothing short of quick, awkward and questioning.

Getting rid of the frustrations, would be hard. But, I had survived it before, and I could do it again. Hopefully, I could maybe hide in the forest in my Wolf form for the timings.

"What are you going to do?"

I sigh again and turn to Nathan's curious eyes, the Imodium hard mostly worn off, "I'll hide in the forest."

"You can't."

I narrow my eyes. "Why not? Nothing will happen."

"This is a dangerous Pack."

"I am aware," I nod, playing with the hem of my sweater.

"You can't stay in the forest with your Luna's Cycle," he snapped. "That's a rape sentence, Sativa." He growled lowly, glaring at nothing in particular to us.

"What do you mean?" This man never ceased to amaze me. I had never heard of a Luna's Cycles inducing rape.

"Weren't you told about this?" His face flushed again despite his infuriated look.

"No." In my former Pack, every male and female were required to attend a brief seminar. It normally took place twice. For newly turned ones, at the age of sixteen. And, for mates couples, at whatever age. Of me being so young, and as I had never found a mate, it was immediately thought that I hadn't experienced the Luna's Cycle. I couldn't tell them, for it would only deem me the true title of an unfortunate abnormality.

A name, really, that I had already taken on.

Thankfully, my Luna Cycles have lessened over the past month. And, if Romanov marks me, (an unlikely event), I will immediately go into Heat. But, that takes a full week after the marking.

I doubted that I would go through a full Luna's Cycle.

"Well," Nathan cleared his throat. "Men - sorry, males are deeply attracted to the scent of a female during their Cycle. To an extent that it could become dangerous," he looked at me in worry. "Very dangerous."

"That explains the rape," I mutter. "But, that doesn't half explain why no males bothered me during my Cycle," I chewed on my lip.

"I suppose so."

I think for a minute. The only person that knew of my Cycles, was my mother.

"Mom knew," I whisper, making a small attempt to push myself off the bed. I groan as my muscles pull in protest, I drew back my lips.

I heard him draw an almost inaudible breath, "Did she give you anything - to dim the pain, or hide the effect?"

"No, she didn't need to."

It was true. For the week, I would stay with my mother, since school was a few minutes away. During the Cycle, she would lock me in my room as I gritted for the entire week. The only logical explanation for a Lycanthrope my age to be going through a Cycle, is that I must have met him before. Which is nearly impossible, due to my parents strict curfew rules, and rejections to dating.

"Why?" He cocked a brow.

Placing my hands upon the metal of the bed, I haul myself up, thankful that I could sit up again. "You don't know, do you?" I ask, looking straight at Nathan.

"I know some of it," he says, leaning back on the chair.

"Dad left," I murmur gently, almost untold of his reaction to what I had informed him of, I turn to face him. "And, he married another woman, her name was Ivanna." I don't give him time to interrupt before I begin again, "I never liked her. I personally thought her and her Mildred had an ulterior motive. But Dad wouldn't listen - I had tried multiple times." He just watched me.

So I went on, telling him about it all. Mother's drinking and illegal use of drugs. My catching on to her smoking - everything in more detail that I had planned to. But, I didn't regret it. I told him about the murder, the numbers, I just kept talking until I could no more. Sighing, I lay my head on the softish pillow and close my eyes for a slight second - thinking.

"I always hated that man."

I let out an involuntary snort at his words, immediately raising my hands to my lips as the odd sound bubbles up and over.

"Keep laughing," Nathan urged, looking oddly serious. "It's a nice sound."

Again, I'm silent as he cocks his head at me. I normally didn't snort - it was unladylike - as my mother had said. I giggled, something I hadn't done till I had come here. I didn't stop - I liked the feeling. But never an actual laugh, it was a new feeling that I enjoyed.

I finally haul my body over the bed, wincing as I placed my full weight upon my two feet. My right ankle was deeply discolored - purple and blue with bruises. Flinching, I fix my eyes on Nathan, before letting them roam around the room till they came in contact with a white door. Guessing for the bathroom, I walk over to it, limping slightly at my bruised ankle. I breathed out, it hurt more than hell.

"Do you need help?" Nathan asked, concern filled his hoarse voice. "I can help."

He sounded concerned.

"No need," I grit out, pressing my white knuckles against the knob of the door.

Too concerned for a sister that he recovered days ago.

"Sativa," I only stop as he calls my name. I don't turn around. "Be careful in there - don't stay in longer than you need to, it's paramount."

"It's a bathroom." I state, giving him a blank glower.

"Look, I don't even know why Romanov would let you up here. He's never let anyone up here - except for me and a few others," he sighed frustratedly. "He gave me strict instructions on what to do immediately after you woke up - and going into the bathroom isn't necessarily one of them."

"What's in the bathroom?"

"Nothing." He answered quickly. He was skeptical.

Looking at him for a moment, I press on, "No seriously. What the hell is in the bathroom, Nathan?"

"Just go use it," he said. His tone clipped and edged. "If you spend more than a minute or two, I'll personally come and get you, Sativa."

Again, with the skepticism.

Walking into the small room, I kick the door shut and lean on the door, stilling to raise my hand and wipe the beads of sweat that had formed there. I link my eyes with the room, finding it as bare as the other one behind the door. I sighed slowly. It wasn't a bathroom after all - it looked more to be a connecting hospital room. Pushing myself off the door, I walk forward and wrap my hands around my small body. It was near freezing.

Nathan suspiciously sent tone made me think. Walking to the toilet, I kick it open and close my eyes, quickly finishing and putting my hands under the sink. I let the almost boiling water flow over my hands until they burned red. I turn the tap off and wipe my hands on the front of my jean-clad legs. Yawning, I roll my eyes at Nathan's last minute warning out for me.

My eyes scan the small bathroom again, what's so bad about a bathroom? They obviously held this room for an ulterior motive - and, although betraying the already wavering trust of Romanov, Nathan, Nat and the Pack - the selfish part in me told me that I could use this 'secret' to my advantage.

After a short scour, I come across another door. Slowly walking up to it, I cock a brow as I twist the knob. Expecting a locked door, I am not surprised when the door refusing to budge. Sighing frustratedly, I raise my fingers to the knot in my hair. Satisfied as my curls fall down my back, the small bobby pin in my hand making me smirk expertly.

I insert the pin into the door, jiggling it a bit, I breathe out as the door finally opens. An odd anomaly in the otherwise sophisticated and professional series of security in this Pack. Walking into the room, I let the door click shut behind me as wrap my hands around myself. The room was freezing - but there was no turning back, for now.

I saw no cameras.

But, that didn't mean there weren't any present.

It was just a long, grey hallway. I could literally see the frost in the air as it swirled out of my mouth and nose. The silent click of my boots echoed of the metallic walls as I quickly thought of going back. But, the thought dissipated as I came face to face with a door. This time, it met up with the security measures of the arc state of the Pack.

A large door, most likely bulletproof. It had a dozen security locks, a fingerprint scanner, and a lock code.

Chuckling to myself, I raise my hand to the fingerprint scanner, lightly fingering the smooth, checked surface of it. Pulling it back, I run my hand over the coded lock, stopping slightly on the number eight. I stand back, curiosity courting my common-sense, I raise my hand again and punch in a random code, "four, two, one, three, eight, eighteen".

Access denied.

Pursing my lips, I arch a brow and narrow my eyes at the locks. I pondered, Nathan had said that Romanov only allowed certain members of the Pack come in here. Obviously, they knew the code. Or, it could only lie in the knowledge of Romanov.

"What the fuck are you doing in here, Sativa?"

I let a small curse emanate from my lips before I turn and face the questioner. I sigh in relief as my eyes come to meet with Nathan's worried grey ones. He forcefully gripped my forearm and dragged me away from the curious door.

"Wait," I protest, glaring at him and pulling my arm away. "What's behind the door? I bet it's dead bodies."

"We are not like that," he hissed. Coming to a stop and leaning down until he was eye-level with me. "We don't keep dead bodies in a freezer," he snaps, straightening again, as he pulls me towards the bathroom's door. "Think before you run your mouth."

"I'm serious," I snap a response as he pushes me out of the door. Locking it once again as he walks away. He didn't need to assault my arm as I followed him out. "Is it a freezer, then?" I ask. I could surpass irritating - I knew that well.

"Shut up," he snarls.

Crossing my hands over my chest, I lean on the wall as he stares me down. "What are you people afraid of?" I bite out in query. "Your narcissistic Alpha already made that clear - I am not a threat. Literally, I'm useless." I whisper harshly, the stinging in my eyes returning. I sigh, biting my lip as the apt and certain feeling drones on me again.

"What have I told you?"

His voice comes out raspy. He runs his hand through his hair and narrows his eyes at mine. I could feel his frustration, anger over his sobriety lashing out in waves, "I doesn't matter what you said, Nathan," I crease my brow. I blink as the feeling is replaced by a slight probing. "It doesn't."

"Why?"

I slide down the wall slowly. And, resting my forehead against my propped up knees, I push my hair behind my ears and mutter a reply, "I don't give a fuck why it does matter - all I know is that is doesn't - at least not to me," I finished.

"Why?"

"Nathan," I give him a warning glance. "Stop it."

"Why?"

"Nathan, sod off."

"I will," he cocks a brow, smirking slightly at me. "If you tell me why it matters."

"No." I sigh again, closing my eyes until I imagined I couldn't hear Nathan speaking - it almost worked.

Almost.

"Tell me." It was almost a command. I didn't do that.

"Don't tell me what to do."

"I know why," he tries, cocking a brow as a slight smirk plays on his thin lips.

"Feel free to enlighten me," I smile sarcastically at him. "I would love to hear you talk."

I ignore the look he gives me as he goes on. "You're in love with Romanov - so much that you will believe all the shit that comes from his mouth, isn't it, Sativa?"

"It isn't shit." I defend.

It was my Wolf; I naturally want to blame my selfless behavior towards Romanov on my Wolf. But, she has been MIA, for most of the coming hours, so the fact that she had finally wandered out caused me to want to question her action.

"No, it is not. Because you believe who you care for."

"I don't care for him."

"Then, you hate him?"

I don't say anything as I murmur several denials to Nathan's accusations. I obviously cared for him - he is my mate. But, love is a strong word, and so is hate.

"I could never hate him," I whispered, pursing my lips.

I barely feel the tears as the slide down my cheek. God, I hated myself. Years, I had spent years perfecting my tears. But, Nathan had always been the one to halt the perfection. It had been that way for as long as I could remember. Romanov still managed to crack me, but, never in his presence.

"You love him them," Nathan chides, his tone softer now.

I didn't even know what I way saying anymore.

I don't love Romanov.

I don't hate him, either.

He only chuckles.

I slowly raise my head as I feel a light touch brush my cheek. Moving my hair away from my face. I lean closer into the wall as person engulfs my body in his. I close my eyes, believing that is is Nathan.

But, the scent tells me otherwise. Raising my head, I open my eyes and blink away the uncertainty. Almost as if I am fearful, I raise my hand to face and roughly wipe the tears off.

"Don't cry."

His voice was as it had always been to me.

Perfect.

I unwillingly wrap my hands around his large frame as he stands up to his height, my legs still wrapped around his torso. Looking over his shoulder, I notice that Nathan had left.

But, I didn't care.

Call me weak, but all that I wanted to do was to spend eternity right where I was.

In Romanov's arms.

-

Loupe Fiasco, California
USA - North America
The Main Pack Lodgings - The Alpha's Quarters

Sativa
I was on a cloud.

The bed was soft, almost impenetrable to my fingers.

Sighing, I blink my eyes open and stare at the ceiling above me. It was the creamiest shade of white that I had ever seen. I smiled, it reminded me of the heaven that my mother talked so frequently about.

I wasn't a religious person, but I believed in God. My mother did too, but my father didn't. I let a small smile play on my lips as I remember the countless efforts my mother always made to go to church. I would follow, but Sunday School was mostly spent listening our director talk about sinners and how they will never get to the lands.

It still confuses me.

Snuggling deeper into his bed, I smile at the warm scent that it gives off. One of coffee, the rainy forest, mint and cinnamon. Although I was allergic to cinnamon, I liked the fact that he smelt like it. It's unfortunate how much I am still trying to convince myself that I have to stay away from the man.

I knew that he was dangerous, and my life and death rested in his hands.

But, I couldn't help it.

Sitting up, I stifle a yawn as I stare around the large room in awe. It was eerily beautiful. A massive bed with black silk sheets lay underneath me. It already took up half the space in the room. I cocked my head. The bed was made of a wooden frame, and black curtained cloth covering half the bed. I let my eyes scan the rest of the room - but it was all the same. Two large, oakwood doors stood directly opposite each other.

Another three next to a seating area that looked untouched. Dressers and cabinets lined the room, but the surfaces remained dusty and bare, only a couple of jugs of wilting flowers lay atop the dressers. I blink at the authenticity of the room.

It was just like him - dark.

Four wide, long windows were instilled into the walls directly behind the bed. Two bedside tables, similar to the ones of the dresser, lay on the adjacent sides of the bed. It was entrancing the way the late morning sun casted a glow in the room.

A little beep sounds out as I glance at a plain alarm-clock that sat on the left-side table to the bed. It read ten o'clock, in a block, red font.

I turned my head as one of the doors opposite each other opened. "You're awake." I sigh as his entrancing voice meets my ears once more. I hadn't realized that I had fallen asleep in his arms. My cheeks flushed at my acts.

"Yeah," I smile slowly. A cracked, and crooked smile.

As usual, he is dressed in black. Dark jeans encased unto his long, muscular legs. A tight, thin shirt accentuating his packed chest. I avert my eyes to his face. They were cold, but I could almost notice something different about the way that they looked at me. His face was angelic, the hard ridges set firm as he clenched his jaw tightly.

"You are in love with me."

He pronounced the word, 'love', as if he'd never heard it in his life. So foreign, that I almost felt pity for the man. The word sounded soft, unused and unexplored. But unusually, like he had experience - one that was not entirely good.

I wasn't sure how I had gathered so much information from that sentence, but as the naturally curious person that I am, I ponder a little more on his statement of my love for him. I couldn't deny it, and I wouldn't accept it.

I let out a heavy breath and carefully lay myself on the mountain of pillows again.

"Don't," I whisper out. My throat clogged as I felt the bed dip slightly beside me.

"Open your eyes," his command rang out. Laced with a minimum amount of power. One that didn't need me to obey it, yet I still did.

I shuffled uncomfortably as he leaned closer to me and brushed his lips near my ear. I shivered, looking anywhere but at him as my cheeks flared up immensely.

"Stop," I manage, quickly sitting up only to connect my forehead with his.

"Shit," I mutter as he only frowns and leans back. Raising my hand, I rub it against my forehead as the pain slowly wears off. I could predict a headache.

"Are you hurt?" He looked concerned as he peered at my head. I leaned further away from his burning look.

I frown at his question, giving him a slight stare as he stared back, "Since when did you care about my wellbeing, Alpha Romanov?"

"I don't."

"Then, why ask?"

"Curiosity," he replied.

For a while, we are silent. Just basking in the preserved presence of each other. I push myself higher, sitting up and leaning against the arc headboard.

"You are in love with me."

His voice was slightly harder. More edge to it. He sounded fascinated with it.

"No."

"You cannot be in love with me," he glared slightly. "It is impossible to be in love with me," he puts his head down.

"I am not in love with you," I say simply. Bringing my knees to my chest and resting my head on them. It was as if, I spent most of my time convincing myself of it.

"Yes, you are."

"No, I am not." I sigh, "What makes you think like that?"

I already knew.

"I heard you say it." I could almost smile at his confused expression. He looked deep in thought. "You said it to Nathan, that you loved me."

"I didn't say it."

"But, you didn't deny it."

He was right. I didn't say anything as he leaned closer into me. At first, he placed nothing but a light kiss on my cheek, before brushing my lips with his. Leaning away, he stalks briefly to the mini seating area, deftly picking a white chair and placing into directly in front of me. He sits in it as I