mason

     I hated crying.

     I didn't cry often. I just wasn't the type of guy. But every now and then, when my emotions became really overwhelming, I couldn't help it.

     Overwhelming was an understatement right now.

     I felt like absolute shit, and it was no mystery why. Nobody could make me feel bad about myself like Kieran Callisto did. Not because he was the big bad vampire and hurt my feelings. No, I was done playing the victim. I felt bad because everything he'd said was true. I was manipulative, I was selfish, and I did hurt undeserving others to get my way.

      I was honest when I said that I didn't mean to. But that didn't make me feel any better. I was downright awful, and the only person who saw that was the one person I wished didn't.

     Not that that would ever mean anything to him. I was destined to love him and only him for the rest of my life, but there was nothing stopping him from hating me. And god, he hated me. He hated me so much, it hurt. I would never forget the tone of he used with me tonight. It was venomous.

     The sick part was, every now and then, I thought things changed. I thought that we were making progress, and maybe my feelings were reciprocated. Then either he'd say something hurtful or I would, and we were back to square one. That was when the alpha complex kicked in and I did something stupid.

     Over the centuries, people developed this whole romance around the idea of a werewolf having a mate. They created stories about us making eye contact with the one, automatically knowing they were our forevers. Then the mates instantly fall in love and have beautiful werewolf babies.

     Reality was much more cruel.

      Finding your mate could be as much of a curse as a blessing. Someone who thought they were straight their entire lives could have their world turned around in an instant when they realized their mate shared the same gender.

AKA me.

Someone who was ready to carry on their family legacy with their children could find out that their mate was a different species. Interspecies breeding was impossible without dark magic, and that usually led to some fucked up kids.

Also me.

      Being with your mate could become a battle between what you are and who you love when it turns out that your mate is not just a different species, but a vampire no less. I'd seen relationships in the past between werewolves and humans, or pixies, or even mermaids. But vampires? That was taboo. 

Once again, me.

      The worst stereotype was the 'moment of recognition'. Discovering your mate in the first place isn't that easy. There's no moment of eye contact where fireworks go off in your head and you both run at each other in slow motion with Whitney Houston playing in the background. 

      I didn't even know it was Kieran at first. When I walked into Art on my first day, I felt something. It's indescribable, but every wolf knows when they feel it what it means, even if they're feeling it for the first time.

     They're nearby.

      But that's all you got. When Mrs Garroway told me to pick a seat, I went to the part of the classroom where the feeling was strongest. Given that Marcella was the only girl there, of course I thought it was her. It didn't help that every time I saw Kieran throughout the day, Cella was with him.

      Then, at her house, when Kieran stormed out, the feeling left.

      That was the oh shit moment.

      Once you recognize your mate, it was not instant love. It was quick, but still gradual. Hell, I still didn't completely love Kieran yet. I liked him a lot, yes—over last few days, I found myself feeling more and more for him. My heart would pick up when I saw him, and I started noticing his best features; his nice hair, his full lips, his pretty eyes. Gay, I know.

      At times I even tried to make amends, to pick up the pieces and start over. But it was too late. He already hated me. And the weird thing was, I still hated him in a way. The feeling of immediate dislike he described feeling when he first saw me, I'd felt too. And every nasty word he'd said to me still stood. They didn't go away when I realized he was my mate. They just sort of...lessened. The bad things blended into the background behind all of the good things. When he really pissed me off, they resurfaced. I forgot he was my mate for a bit, got angry, and said things—did things—that I regretted as soon as I had time to calm down. I'd never felt so conflicted, so torn between hate and love.

     I was as unfortunate as unfortunate could get. I ended up with a mate who was a guy, a vampire, hated my guts, and pissed me off to no explainable extent.

     Who was also smart, funny when he wanted to be, and a great friend to those he cared about.

      Who kissed me back.

     I kept telling myself to forget about that, that it was a one time thing and no reason to get my hopes up. However, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't. The way he'd kissed me was like no one had kissed me before. In that moment, on the floor of Cella's room, he'd wanted me. And who says he would never want me again?

     He does, actually. He said it himself. Never again. That was the part that had my crying like a baby. Kieran was a great guy, I just knew it, but only to the people close to him. I'd never be one of those people. The more I thought about it, the more I descended into a dark hole of tears and self-pity.

      It could be worse, I supposed, trying to lighten my own mood. Some people never found their mate, and it usually drove them to insanity. Although, with the way things were looking, I myself may soon end up on the train to Crazy Town.

     I jumped as my shoulder buzzed, revealing my phone ringing under it. The number on the screen wasn't one I recognized, so I considered not answering, but figured I had nothing to lose anyways at this point.

     "Hi, who is this?"

      "Kieran."

      I shot upright so fast, my bed creaked below me. I self consciously wiped at my wet cheeks, then realized he couldn't see me and mentally scolded myself for being so stupid. "Kieran? Why are you—how'd you get my number?"

     "Cella. Mason, are you...are you crying?"

     I could've sworn there was concern in his voice, but I was done giving myself false hopes. 

"No," I lied, though I didn't sound very convincing, even to myself. It didn't help that I sniffled a bit right after I said it. "I'm not."

"Alright..." I could tell, even through the phone, that Kieran didn't believe me.

"Did you need something?" I didn't mean to come across as rude, but Kieran was the last thing I needed right now.

"No...yes. I'm just worried. About you, that is."

Was I hearing things? "You? Worried about...me?"

"I just said that. Keep up."

Despite myself, I chuckled at Kieran's annoyed tone. How he'd managed to make snarkiness endearing, I wasn't sure. "Alright, alright. Why—what are you worried about? I mean, I know it's me, but why? I'm kind of an asshole, remember?" I was stumbling over my words like an absolute buffoon.

"Don't say that about yourself," Kieran snapped, surprising me with his serious tone. "Sorry, I just...I know this is weird. And don't think it changes anything between us, because it doesn't. But you...earlier you more or less said that you hate yourself. Maybe I'm over analyzing things and you didn't mean it seriously, I don't know. And you're probably curious as to why I care...that, I don't know either. I just know that nobody—not even you—should feel that way. And I know that thinking that of yourself can lead people to doing bad things, and I just...I don't know...I don't want to see that happen to anyone knowing that I'd just sat back and watched. I would've asked Cella to talk to you for me, but I figured it's a private matter and not my place to share. So...yeah. Just making sure you're okay."

Okay, I must have really been hearing things now. Only a few hours ago, Kieran had been pissed at me to no end. And now he suddenly cared about my well being?

Fuck it, I'm not complaining.

"Mason, are you there?"

I startled out of my thoughts, realizing I'd never responded. "Uh, y-yeah," I stuttered uselessly, trying to focus over the wild beating of my heart. "I'm here. I just...I don't know what to say. I guess I should start with saying I'm fine, right? Well, no, I'm not fine, but I'm not horrible either. And I'm not going to lie to you, because you're right, I lie way too often. I'll admit, I'm not the most...secure person. I won't delve into that because, honestly, I'm not in the best mental state at this second, and I don't think I can handle it. But I'll tell you this—the Alpha Complex I mentioned earlier is a real thing. I don't expect you to entirely understand it, just know that it's there, and sometimes I can't control it. Maybe that's not an excuse for shit I've done, but it's a reason nonetheless."

Kieran was silent for so long, I wondered if he'd left. Actually, I was still trying to process that we were having this conversation in the first place, and thought that maybe I'd been imagining it. Then he said—

"Explain it to me. I want to understand."

"Oh," I took in a deep breath and let it out as a nervous chuckle. "Goodness, where do I start? It's pretty much like a characteristic, passed from alpha to heir. It's not present in all wolf packs, it all depends on genes. Which is strange, because it's more like a curse than a trait. Since the Alpha and his offspring are naturally superior, they have to have a sort of... weakness, to balance it out. That weakness is irrationality, I guess you could say. It makes you do spur of the moment things without thinking about the consequences.

"Like any curse, it can be broken. There's no set in stone reason for why it goes away—it's just there one moment, gone the next—though I've heard of a few possible causes. An heir with the curse—trait, I mean—must break it before they become Alpha themselves.

"The thing is: the complex doesn't create ideas. It just puts them into action, and I think that is what I hate the most. About myself, I mean. All of these manipulative schemes come from my brain. Maybe I wouldn't go through with them if it wasn't for the complex, but I still only have myself to blame. And I hate that."

Throughout the course of my explanation, Kieran remained dead silent. Ironic, since he was dead. Then, after I was starting to become concerned that the call had disconnected, he said, "That sucks."

I scoffed. "Understatement of the century."

To my surprise, Kieran chuckled. He had such a nice laugh. "Yeah, that was pretty bad. I just don't really know what to say, I guess. Just...just know that you shouldn't hate yourself for it. I know it may not seem like it, but I don't think you're a completely horrible person. I'm not saying we're going to be friends anytime soon, but you don't deserve to feel that way. No one does. So...yeah."

I couldn't ignore the obvious compassion in Kieran's voice. I didn't want to ignore it. It meant something.

"Well, thanks," I said lamely. "For caring, that is. And I know this won't mean much to you, but I'm sorry for anything I've done in the past...

"And anything I might do in the future."

When Kieran hung up, I didn't know how to feel.

So, naturally, I ended up feeling angry.

Hell, I was livid.

Just as I was starting stop giving myself false hope, Kieran had to go and do that? Seriously?

He didn't realize it, but he'd singlehandedly managed to reduce my brain to turmoil. More turmoil than before, that is.

He'd been so nice. For the first time since I came to this goddamn city, Kieran Callisto had shown that he may not see me as just a nuisance. He cared about my well being, which, in a way, must mean he cared about me. Right?

Wrong.

"And don't think it changes anything between us, because it doesn't."

"I'm not saying we're going to be friends anytime soon..."

Still, I couldn't let go of the fact that it just had to mean something. He chose, of his own will, to call me just to ask if I was alright. Kieran Callisto, the guy who didn't have time for anyone's shit but his own, took the time to see if I, the guy he hated, was okay.

How fucking dare he.

How dare he be all sweet. How dare he make me fall harder in a matter of minutes just by opening that goddamn mouth of his. How dare he lead me to thinking that I had a fucking chance when I obviously didn't. How fucking dare he.

I wasn't even sure what I was angry at, there were so many factors. Fate, obviously, for damning me to fall for fucking Kieran Callisto. Him, for making it so damn easy yet so damn hard to hate him.

Myself, for more reasons than I could list.

I cursed under my breath as I felt my eyes water again, this time with hot, angry tears. No longer wanting to be constrained to the confinements of my room, I silently crawled out of bed and into the hall. I was glad that it was so late and everyone was sleeping, because I'd hate for anyone to see me like this. If I looked as shitty as I felt, I might blind someone.

I crept down the stairs, careful to avoid waking up any of the other lycanthropes. When I was finally out the front door and out in the open, I wasted no time stripping off my clothes—if I didn't, I'd never see them again—and transforming.

The first time I ever transformed, it was a full moon, and I was thirteen. That was over three years ago, but the process hadn't become much easier. It was significantly less painful, sure, but it was still pretty disorienting for the first few minutes.

I found that staring at the moon helped—unless it was a full moon. Don't do that, I learned from experience. Today, however, the moon was only a mere crescent. I focused on it until I was sure I was only seeing one moon, and then I was off.

Running had always been the best way to clear my head, even before my first transformation. I could just blank out for a bit and sprint until I could hardly breathe—which was a pretty long time. Everything, from the stars twinkling above, to the sounds of the forest, to the leaves crunching beneath my feet, brought a sense of familiarity that was unexplainably calming.

I wasn't sure how long I ran for. Maybe thirty minutes, maybe an hour, maybe even two. I just knew that, when I came back, my mind had settled and the turmoil had ceased.

And with a clear mind, I was finally able to come to a decision. If Kieran didn't like me, he didn't like me. I couldn't change that.

And I wasn't going to try. I was going to forget the good moments, when he made me feel like perhaps we meant something. No more false hope, no more wishing. I was going to forget the bad moments, when he made it clear as day that he hated me, and I almost felt like I hated him. No more anger, no more arguments. I was going to be neutral.

I may not be able to choose who I loved, but I was going to be in charge of my own fate. I had to be. I was going to paint my own picture.

     And Kieran wasn't going to be in it.