Jolene

After I left the dorm, I cut a piece of myself away and threw it into an abyss of darkness to never be seen or felt again. Days later, I realize this and try to leave, undo it all. That’s when it becomes clear. My sense of control was all an illusion. The day I met Elliot was the day my choices were taken. Maybe not by him, but he’s not innocent either.

After numerous escape attempts, Jacob finally had enough and showed me what's waiting for me if I decided to leave. Apparently, there're hundreds of creatures waiting for me to leave unprotected. They all think I'm connected to some kind of prophecy to do with Lucifer, and there's now a price on my head. Tally is thankful because of me she has some extra time with her family before she has to leave and... I can't even say it. It's too bizarre. Jacob had a visit with lucifer yesterday to explain the situation. He took Tally with him. She hasn’t left her room since yesterday. Although I feel bad for her, I'm also thankful it's not me.

I was able to talk to my aunt today, and I was expecting some extreme rescue attempt and the shock of her life. Instead, I got an apology. She admitted to me the possibility was there, but she thought I escaped my father's genes given my age. I hung up in the middle of our conversation, feeling the most betrayed by her out of everyone. Then I blew up my phone, literally in a fit of rage. Now I just feel... lost. My whole life feels like one big lie. The friends I had, my aunt, my career, everything I ever knew and worked for ripped out from underneath me. I'm thrust into a life of make-believe, danger, and uncertainty. I'm expected to accept it with a smile. Like it's no big deal. FUCK THAT! It is a big deal. I'm a person with wants, needs, and feelings. Right now, I feel rage. That’s what I’ve been feeling; bouncing back and forth between anger at my situation and self-pity that it can't be changed.

I'm tired of feeling, tonight I'm getting drunk!

“Whatchya looking for?”

I startle, peeking over my shoulder at... Grayson? Yeah, that’s his name; as I ruffle through the cupboards. He and Tally are the only ones that haven't hovered over me, asking me questions I’ve answered over and over again. Except the undertaker looking guy. He doesn’t talk much at all and I'm thankful; he’s creepy. Elliot is the worst. This is the first full hour he hasn’t checked up on me in the last two days. It's like clockwork to him. I decide to tell Grayson my plans since I'm having no luck finding anything.

“I'm going to get drunk. I'm in search of something with a high alcohol content.”

He excitedly rubs his hands together, a big smile stretching across his face. The grin is infectious and I find I'm returning it. Grayson Is definitely a looker. With his light blonde hair and dark olive skin. He's the perfect image of a poster boy for a manly cologne campaign or something. If I was being honest, I'd have to admit he’s got nothing on Elliot.

“You're never going to find anything up there. If you want the good stuff, it's in the cellar.”

I pause, shutting the cupboard.

“This place has a cellar?”

Grayson guffaws and exclaims in a dramatic tone;

“You didn't get the tour? It’s a tragedy... come with me.”

He waves me down and places a tea towel over his arm, bowing in a dramatic gesture. A genuine laugh explodes from my mouth, it's the first piece of happy I've had in days...

It takes a lot more alcohol than I'm used to before I feel it, but in no time my words slur; the syllables slamming together not so elegant.

“I think you should stop after this bottle.”

The exclamation is unfounded. I’m perfectly fine.

“Why would you say that?”

He’s smiling, and I notice his teeth. They’re wicked sharp. Honest to God canines.

“Because the headache lasts longer than the buzz and the pains much more potent.”

Pain shmain I’m no pussy. Getting up, I walk a straight-Ish line to Grayson, attempting to prove my point, but really, I want a closer look at those canines.

“What are you?”

For a moment I think I've offended him. Then the easy smile is back in place.

“What makes you think I'm anything but human?”

I scoff, then hiccup, making Grayson chuckle.

“For starters you’re here and...”

I point at his teeth. His smile remains as his tongue darts to the points.

“I'm a shifter-”

“Wolf.” I finish for him.

Grayson nods, affirming my prediction. His grin spreads wider as I take in his features.

“What's that like?”

I don’t think my questions would be so bold if I wasn’t tipsy.

“Unexplainable.”

It's not the answer I'm looking for, and he knows it. Glaring, I fold my arms, unimpressed.

“Fine,” he says with a shrug before continuing. “But you're not going to get it, you're not a shifter.”

Grayson leans back dramatically, and I can tell he’s pulling memories from a long time ago.

“All of your senses heighten. You 're you but not, it's like watching a piece of yourself from a dream or sedated state.”

“What does it feel like?” I interrupt. Grayson grins, rolling his eyes.

“I'm getting to that... it feels peaceful on one end, exhilarating on the other.”

He’s right, I don’t get it. Those are both opposite ends of a spectrum.

“So, you feel separated?” I ask.

He snorts, shaking his head.

“Not at all. I feel... whole. Like coming home.”

Yep, totally lost. I get closer, kneeling in front of him to get a better look. I don’t realize how uncomfortable he is until he clears his throat. Jeez, he must feel like he’s in a petri dish. I'm studying him so hard. I know it's being rude, yet I'm drunk enough I don’t really care.

“Can I touch them?”

Grayson expels a puff of air, eyes glancing toward the door. He jumps up so fast I startle, falling on my ass.

“What the FUCK is going on in here?”

Uh, oh! I recognize Elliot's voice. I've never heard him so angry, and I begin to giggle with nervous laughter. When I turn to see Grayson approach Elliot and Elliot instantly pushes Grayson up against the wall with inhuman speed. Elliot’s horns are curved, the sharp tips glinting. Holy shit balls! His back is widening before me, stretching his shirt until I'm certain it's going to tear. My eyes go round at the sight. After the shock at what I'm seeing dulls I focus in on the conversation. Elliot thinks Grayson has plied me with liquor to... what? Take advantage of me? Shit!

“Stop!” I yell.

Elliot raises his fist and Grayson just stands there, silent. He doesn’t even try to defend himself. They both ignore my pleas to listen. As my buzz wears off and a headache settles in. I get up, running over to the duo and push my way in. I'm not listening to what Elliot is yelling to Grayson. I just know it's all my fault, a big misunderstanding and I have to stop it.

“Move Jolene!”

He doesn’t even look at me, just growls out a demand I don’t plan on heeding.

“No!” I punctuate my words with a hard shove to his chest. He doesn’t budge, but my hands leave a singed print in his shirt. Quickly pulling back, I look down. They appear normal. I’ve finally gotten Elliot's attention. He looks down at me, his expression undecipherable. All I see is softened anger. His lips are pursed, eyebrows down-turned.

“I wanted to drink. We were only talking.”

Complete silence. Elliot’s nostrils flare, and his gaze travels the length of me, taking in every detail. Electric energy crackles in the air. My body hums as if I’m taking energy from the earth, but the only thing I’m in contact with is Elliot.

“Why didn’t you come find me? I told you if you needed anything just ask.”

Disappointment laces his voice. My stomach churns, and it has nothing to do with the liter of whiskey sitting in my belly, although I’m sure it doesn’t help. Suddenly I’m that little girl again. Creating havoc in the neighborhood, getting Mathilda into trouble. A particular event foreign to my memory invades my head. I'm small really small and I'm in the neighbor's backyard under a great big leafy tree. Hugging my knees, I look up at the apples and wonder if they will all rain down on me for the terrible thing I've done. The sun is setting and I'm getting cold, but there's no way I'm going home. I can't face my aunt. It feels like hours have passed. I get tired and some of the tension leaves my body. Mathilda’s face appears over the fence, and I start crying uncontrollably.

“Oh, my god... I remember”

This isn't the first time my powers popped up. I burned... I burned a cat. Mathilda must have removed my memory with a spell. I feel angry at the theft. How many memories have been stolen from me? My anger at Mathilda magnifies until it’s a growing ball of fire gathering every good thing she's done and torching it.

“What's wrong... what do you remember?”

Elliot’s concern for me puts a stop to the ridiculous quarrel and has me forgiving his childish behavior. Even Grayson looks worried about me.

“I suspect my aunt has been stripping my memories for years. This isn't the first time I've had this... ability.”

They both look at each other, communicating in a way I can't understand.

“How do you mean?”

I just remembered something from when I was a child and I had no recollection of it ever happening… I was a Phoenix long before today.”

I walk over to the small bench off to the side and plop down. Once again, I'm depressed. Grayson was right. The headache is terrible.

“That would make more sense... How do you know it’s a memory?”

Elliot sits next to me; his question is meant to be inquisitive, but it leaves me feeling defensive.

“I know what real feels like, Elliot.”

He holds his hands up.

“Hey relax, I'm just trying to help.”

I know he is, and it's not him I'm livid with. I want to call Mathilda and tell her I will never forgive her. I want to ask her how many memories she's stolen from me and why. But I'm too angry and nothing good happens when you’re angry. The reasonable part of my brain tells me to wait. I have a tendency to fly off the handle when I'm mad and once I say those harsh words, I'm thinking. I can't take them back. There’s got to be a good reason. I still believe deep down that she loves me.

“I get why you wanted to check out. Believe me I do, but... There’s something I have to tell you.”

The subject change takes me by surprise. I’m in no mood to worry about anything else. Whatever he’s about to discuss, it’s private, because Grayson quickly leaves the room without another word.

“Do you know what a mate is?”

He’s got to be kidding me? Now? I'm drowning in my own problems and he thinks bringing up this shit is smart.

“You mean mate; like friends or mates like; possessive ruler over some crock of destiny shit?”

He flinches as if I've hit him, and I have the slightest regret for snapping.

“It's not like that at all. Why would you think that?”

“I'm sorry.” I can't hide the irritation in my voice. Taking a deep breath, I gather my patience.

“Look, I've read about you and your ‘mate’ hang-up, and I know how important they are to your species. I just don’t buy into that kind of thing. Okay?”

“you've read up on me?”

He smiles, completely missing the part where I dismiss his beliefs. For some reason, his calm irks me even more .

“I'm dealing with bigger problems than catering to your ego. Excuse me.”

I get up, pushing toward the door, but he stops me with a hand on my shoulder. Risky, considering my already volatile state. He’s playing with fire, literally.

“It's not like that... it can be dangerous. It's not something I have control over, believe me. I tried.”

He makes it sound like someone else is pulling the strings. I'm so tired of this out-of-control destiny bullshit. If I have to own up to my mistakes, then so does he.

“What's that supposed to mean?” I say.

Elliot grimaces, dropping his hand from my shoulder.

“I haven't been completely honest with you.”

Shocker, that seems to be the standard in my life.

“The night in your room wasn’t the first time I've seen you.”

I stay quiet, keeping a calm face, but inside I'm twisted in knots, afraid of what he’s about to say.

“It was months before in the coffee shop... I watched after you once I found out you were my mate.”

Anger coils like a snake in the pit of my stomach. Months… he said months.

“What does that mean, watched over me?” I counter back on the cusp of losing my shit.

“I stalked you three to four times a day, I'm sorry. I tried to stop, drank myself to oblivion, and nearly lost my position here because of it. Jolene, I'm not lying when I say I have no control. Its instinct to be near you, protect you... touch you.”

Right about now I’m more than eager to tell him where to stuff his instinct and the sun doesn’t shine there.

“I know you don’t understand.” he explains, like it's some answer that makes sense.

“You got that right.” I snap.

“And I don’t expect you to… all I’m asking for is your patience with me.”

That’s a tall order right about now. I keep my mouth shut and give him a curt nod. Now that it’s in the open, I have a request to.

“I’ll give you patience but I need space!”

He doesn’t look as willing to accept my request, but in the end he quietly agrees. This time when I turn to leave, he doesn’t stop me.