Nicole's POV
--

"D-Dad!" Dallas's eyes seem to light up from happiness until he remembers the state he's in. This brings him a step closer to me, making me feel protected.

The man smiles, and a sudden movement catches my eye. Carly runs past us and wraps her arms around the man's waist. This makes the father grin and bend down to place a kiss on her head. His fingers lace over her back, thumbs gently massaging.

They stare at each other for a few minutes, and I realize how perfect they are together. They are each a beautiful person, and together, they must make others jealous with their beautiful connection.

The man turns his silver eyes to me, eyeing me with plain curiosity, and it makes me wonder if Dallas didn't just get his eyes' intensity from his mom.

And then the father's eyes flicker to his son, causing Dal to flinch. The intense silver eyes rake over Dallas's scarred eyes, maimed hands, and scarred stomach and chest. His eyes rake over the blood still matted in his hair. Dallas may not have any broken bones(anymore) nor any minor cuts, but he still has the major ones. Worry flies through the eyes and then understanding as he reads the words on his son's stomach. Pain floods him, making his posture stiff, and he gently pulls away from his wife before he walks towards Dallas and I with meaningful strides. Dallas flinches again.

"Dal...." The man's voice is beautiful, melodious. Rich. Smooth. Beautiful. Just wow.

He grips his son's shoulders gently, earning a wince from Dallas because of the pain of the bullet hole. "Dal.... What.... What happened?" His voice cracks.

"I'm fine, dad. Just tired." He mumbles, his eyes drooping for effect. "I just want to sleep."

"Tell me, son." His father commands. "You can sleep in a few minutes." He adds as an afterthought more gently. This is a man who cares for his son, greatly.

Dallas hesitates and then sighs, seeming to receive the weight of the world on his shoulders. "It happened again.. "

His father lets out a startled sob, and pulls his son to him. His face buried in his son's blond hair. When he pushes his son away gently, he examines Dallas's stomach, the scars fresh on his sensitive skin. Then the silver eyed man looks at Dallas's eyes and throat, looking at his fingers. An animalistic growl echoes through the room, the father being the source. Growling? What the heck?

"I told you not to go scouting by yourself, Dal!" Desperation leaks from the man's words. It seems as if he should be angry, but pain and sorrow fill up that gap. Did I mention that EVERYone in this room EXCEPT ME has an accent?

"I'm sorry... I wasn't scouting. I was in our land. But they found me and said they were taking that land back. " His father curses, looking at Dallas's hands.

"Part of your fingers are missing." His voice is hoarse. "Your eyes are scarred. Your stomach is scarred. And I have a feeling that there's a reason your voice is so crackly. " Dallas flinches again.

"Thank the goddess you're alright."

"Damian.... Let the boy be. He's dealt with so much trauma.." Carly says quietly behind him, soothing her husband. Damian turns, walking back to her to envelop her in his arms.

And then he notices me. Again.

"Hi... I'm Nicole...Dallas's friend." I say, my voice coming out high-pitched and nervous.

Damian grins. "I know exactly who you are. I'm Damian Amicus, but you can call me Damian." Dallas's cheeks flush at the first part. "Alright.. We can talk more in the morning, Dal."

Dallas grabs my arm, pulling me after him and past his parents before thudding up the stairs. Dallas talks about me? And why's he in such a hurry?

Before going out of earshot, chuckles from his parents fill the downstairs. They're actually used at their son's flustered state. It's quite rare.

When we reach his room, Dallas helps me set up some games to play while he takes a shower. The shower sounds from right next door, creating a smooth rhythm.

I'm playing some Minecraft before I know it. Man, I love this game. It's so creative and addictive.

Dallas always plays it with me(reluctantly) because he enjoys seeing me build things that he couldn't imagine. He's jealous of my amazing skill at being able to do anything with just a stack of wooden planks.

And that's when I just happen to glance over my shoulder when s Duden presence irks me. I didn't even hear the shower turn off!

Scarred green eyes meet me. Dallas. He's watching me. How long has he been there?

He wears a white towel around his waist, water droplets rolling down the plain of his chest and stomach. His hair is damp and ruffled, making me want to run my fingers through it. A single water droplet suddenly rolls down his torso as if he doesn't notice, and lands on the towel. What is wrong with me?

"Sorry... I forgot to get clothes...." His cheeks are tinted pink from embarrassment. And then I realize I'm staring. And not even at his face, I'm staring at his chest. And stomach. And the towel.

If he notices, he doesn't show it because he just walks to his dresser with a small bounce in his step. Then his back is to me. I know I should look away, but I can't. He rummages thouroughly through his drawer, allowing my eyes to watch the muscles in his back ripple like water falling off smooth stones. Another water droplet trickles between his shoulder blades. And that's when I tear my eyes away and back to the screen.

His footsteps retreat back out of the room for a few minutes before coming back to sit next to me, dressed and fully dry. Game controller in hand, he joins the digital world with me.

Why was he in a hurry to come upstairs? I thought he was tired.... Looking at him from the corner of my eyes, I see the dark bags under his eyes and wonder why he doesn't go to sleep now. Anxiety ripples off him in waves, giving me the impression something's bothering him. But I won't ask because it's way too soon.

"Nicole? Dallas? Dinner's ready!" Dallas shuts off the game and helps me up. It's really quiet. Dallas is really quiet. What is going on?

And then he does the unthinkable. He slips his arm around my waist to pull me closer to him, and kisses my forehead. Odd. I'm not complaining, but... Odd. Something is going to happen and it's making Dallas nervous. He hardly ever gets nervous.

And then he hip-bumps me. Of course, I hip bump him back. Hard.

Rubbing at his upper thigh, he glares at me with fake outrage, muttering,"Keep your bony hips to yourself." I do it again. "Stahp it. It hurts, especially because you don't have as long legs as me so it only reaches my thigh." He knows I can't stand it when he talks about height difference. So I shove him into the wall, a laugh leaving his lips as he uses his palms to cushion himself.

"Not my fault you're a giant." I tease back, grabbing the hair tye off my wrist and braiding my mane of blond curls.

"Not my fault you're a dwarf ." He sticks his tongue out at me and jogs to the top of the stairs gracefully.

Thunder booms on the stairs from our feet until we skid to a stop at the bottom. I get to the door first and push it open, looking over my shoulder at him. "Ha! I win!" I raise my hands in victory as he walks in with his head hung in "shame."

"Ah.. I did my best... But I guess my best isn't good enough anymore.." He dabs at his eyes and sniffs, his rough, crackly voice making him sound more believable. And then he grins. I whack him on the chest.

And that's when I realize it's not just Carly in the kitchen. Damian is still here. Sitting at the table, they watch in amusement with Carly holding in laughter and Damian's lips quirking up in a smile.

A blush takes over my face but I'm enjoying myself too much to care.

"I made soup. It's already poured and ready to eat." Says Carly, motioning at the two bowls across from her and her husband. A strand of hair falls in her way, but she quickly returns it to its spot.

"Thank you," I say politely, remembering the manners I taught myself. Yeah. I taught myself. Who else is going to teach me?

After sitting down and taking a bite of the delicious soup made by Mrs. Amicus, everyone seems to fall into their own personal pool of silence.

Damian interrupts the quiet. "So, Nicole. I hear you come over a lot." A lot is an understatement. How about every day? "You two are close." It seems more like he's confirming the facts rather than asking questions.

"Yeah... I have a lot of free time." When Damian gives me the look to go on, I continue. "My... Ah.... My mom died when I was a baby.." I clear my throat, looking down at my soup. "My dad went crazy with grief and became a work-a-holic. I never see him." I shrug, even though the pain and hurt is hidden in me between layers of my tough exterior. When I was younger, people tried to get through the layers, but none succeeded. So, because they don't understand, they bully me. But there's no way I'm telling this to the Amicuses.

Dallas glares at his soup while Carly looks as if she's seen a ghost. They didn't know about my family. I never told them. Damian blinks, saying," I'm... I'm sorry for prying..." His voice is gentle, making me feel that he actually means it.

I shake my head and shrug again. "No big deal. I have my dog." Damian tilts his head, glancing at Dallas who is taking another bite of soup.

"Dog?" He asks, giving Dallas a meaningful look.

"Yeah. I tried to get Dallas to meet him, but he disappears more and more."

A moment of silence stretches throughout us as I take a bite of soup. When I look up, I see Dallas and Damian are staring at each other.

"I've met him." Dallas says quietly, taking another bite of the warm soup.

Shock registers on my face and I look at him. What? He's met my dog? Something nags at the back of my mind. I know where this is going. I think. It's like I'm given a bunch of random puzzle pieces, but not all of them.

"You have?"

"I AM him." He says, tilting his head to look at me. I nearly choke on soup.

"What?"

"My dear, have you heard of lycanthropes?" Damian suddenly speaks up. His silver eyes stare intently at me.

"Yes...." I keep the fact that I am one to myself. I can't tell them what I am until I'm certain.

"Well. That's what we are, my dear. We are-" And the pieces of the puzzle all click together.

"Lycanthropes. I thought I was the only one. I didn't know there were others." I rush out excitedly. The sound of a spoon dropping and clattering on the table makes me tilt my head.

"You... You already know?" Carly asks, her face slackened with shock.

"Yeah... I've already shifted a bazillion times. I run every night in the woods." Dallas flinches.

"Probably not the best idea; running through the woods alone with the other pack being hostile." He mutters to himself and then looks at me as if realization just dawns on him. "Wait... You shifted.... By yourself? Alone?" Amazement makes his eyes go wide from awe.

"Yeah...." I frown. "Is that bad?"

"No no... It's just extremely painful..." Dallas murmurs with a wince, as if remembering his first shift.

I turn on Dallas. "Why did you never tell me that you were a werewolf?" My eyes shoot daggers at him, betrayal and hurt pulsing through me like an iron fist making my heart pump. "You had so many opportunities..."

"I-I couldn't! I wasn't allowed!" His face becomes pale, as if he realizes that he's loosing me. "I wanted to... Nic... I really did."

"If you did, you would have told me sooner." He closes his eyes, hanging his head.

"How did you find out, dear?" Damian asks suddenly. "How did you find out what you were?"

"I shifted. All I know is how to shift and shift back, nothing else." I whisper quietly, still feeling betrayed and used. He should have told me. I want to ball up my fists and curl up and cry. I want to run home and just fall asleep. I want to be anywhere but here.

"Your... Your dad wasn't there...?" I shake my head.

"No.. Wait... Is he one, too?"my eyebrows raise, but I avoid looking at Dallas.

"Likely, since he's gone most of the time and werewolves are born, not made." Carly answers.

"That's why I'm always gone, my dear. I'm the Alpha of my pack, the ruler, and I have to take care of it and nurture it as if one would a puppy." He tilts his head. "Your father is probably just a very busy pack member. And since your mother, his Mate, died... Every time he sees you..." He trails off, leaving me confused. I shoved bowl in front of me, too tired to finish eating the delicious soup. My appetite has flown out the window.

"Mate?" Dallas seems to slouch in his seat, trying to become as small as he can become. Due to his tall, lean form, it's nearly impossible.

"Have you heard of animals having mates?" At my nod, Damian continues. "That's what Mates are. The wolf goddess pairs each werewolf up with its perfect match, and that is the only person he or she can be with for the rest of their life."

"What if... What if you don't find your Mate?"

"Oh you will. They always somehow come near you at the right time and right moment."

"So the.. The wolf goddess pairs you up with someone- possibly someone you don't even know- and we have to go along with it?" This is so confusing. I find that I'm on the edge of my seat and that my hair is undone from its braid. I run my long fingers through it, combing out the knots.

"Well... Yes... We trust her. She knows best. If you don't accept your soul mate, then you become terribly depressed and gain suicidal thoughts."

"How... How do you know who your Mate is?" I ask quietly. This is becoming more and more complicated. My head is spinning with so much new information.

"You feel attracted to them. Not the usual way, but a way where you just want to touch them, or talk to them. They are your perfect fit, and when you see them, you instantly fall in love with them. You can't help yourself. You desire their touch, their words." This makes me tilt my head. How can you love someone at first sight?

"I'm gonna take a guess and say that you two are Mates?" I ask Carly and Damian. They both nod, and without even having to look, I know they are probably holding hands under the table. I rub my face with the heels of my hands, feeling overwhelmed. "This is so much to take in." Yet I know there's more.

"Yeah. I'm sorry you had to find out so late.... We didn't know how you would take it. Dallas.." They both shoot a look at him. "... Wouldn't stop pressuring us to tell you." Damian stands, grabbing both Carly and his's bowls to take them to the sink. There will be no leftovers. We ate every last drop.

"Well... Why don't you go upstairs and relax a few minutes before leaving? It's getting late."

I nod at Damian, pushing my chair back gently to take my own bowl to the sink. Dallas follows after me and soon we are heading through the hall to the stairs. I'm always one step ahead of him, and I can tell that Dallas knows I'm mad.

When we enter the large bedroom, I head to the blue beanbags in front of the TV. I plop into one with a loud whoosh and grope the remote. The TV flickers to life and I make sure I don't look at Dallas once. My eyes feel strained.

He should have told me! I know he wasn't allowed, but he should have at least told me he wasn't saying everything.

"Nic?" He asks hesitantly, his Emerald eyes glittering as they stare at me. I ignore him. "Nic.... I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you.. But I-I couldn't. I'm sorry...."

"Sorry doesn't cut it." I hiss, my voice hard. This causes Dallas to flinch. "I understand you couldn't tell me everything, but you could have at least told me you weren't saying everything." He frowns, looking down at his hands.

"I know.. I'm sorry... I should have.." He says quietly. "I'm sorry..." Sincerity and desperation leaks from him. He doesn't look at me again. I just continue watching the TV, as if it's the most interesting thing there is and then say,

"It's okay." He looks up at me, his eyes resembling a puppy's and widens them.

"Really?" It's as if he doesn't know if I actually mean it, so I nod.

"Yes. I understand. It's okay." He grins, making my anger and hurt immediately go away. It's hard to stay mad at him when he's basically a helpless puppy.

--

After about an hour of TV, I sprawl out on the bean bag, my legs stretched out and arms above my head. A yawn caresses my mouth and then I hoist myself to my feet, wobbling a few seconds. Dallas does the same and hip bumps me. "Tired?" He asks in amusement. I nod and he pulls me into a hug. "I'm still sorry, Nic. I wanted to tell you... I'm so sorry..." He whispers, his chin resting on my head. His voice rumbles deep from his chest, vibrating like a beautiful song.

"I told you it's okay. I forgive you, Dal." I say quietly.

"Yeah.. Okay." Guilt and sadness radiate off of him and you don't have to be an empath to know that he means his apologies. "Shall we get you home?" His tone of voice changes, sending an odd thrill through me. What the heck?

Not able to answer, I just nod and turn away from the source of warmth and comfort. The light in his room clicks off as we exit and descend down the stairs. I'm faintly aware of Dallas behind me, his presence like a firm wall to lean against.

After an exchange of goodbyes and hugs, Dallas and I are out the front door heading to my house. We keep up small talk, not knowing exactly how to calm the rising tension between us. After some silence stretches between us for what seems like hours, we reach my house. My hands fumble with the key, twisting to unlock the door. With a click, we're in.

The difference between Dallas and I is that I just walk in, not caring about the grime on my feet while Dallas wipes his shoes and takes them off.

Creaks squeal angrily at us as we thunk up the stairs noisily. My eyes have grown heavier and I know Dallas's have, too. The walls seem bare from the lack of photographs and paintings. Never had time to go shopping and don't have any photos to put up. So...

My bed bounces as I flop down on it with a tired groan. Dallas pulls the oak chair from my desk and straddles it, elbows on each side, head resting on the backs of his hands. I sit up, aware I'm not alone and fiddle with my fingers. I don't know what to say.

We just sit there for the longest time, Dallas gazing up at the ceiling and breathing quietly, me messing with my fingers and a small hole in the bottom of my shirt that decided to make an appearance. A frustrated grunt startles me, my eyes lurching up to see Dallas getting out of his chair.

"I can't stand it anymore." He says hoarsely, walking towards me and appearing in front of me rather quickly. My eyebrows draw forward in confusion. What?

"What are yo-" I start to ask, only to have myself interrupted.

By Dallas.

Kissing me.