That evening, Tatum was lounging on the hammock tied to two trees in the garden by the side of the house, hands resting behind the back of her head and eyes closed, enjoying the warmth of the few rays of sun piercing past the thick canopy of the trees, on her face. The book she'd been reading, long forgotten, as it rested against her stomach.

This is nice, she mused. I need to come out more and stop locking myself in my room.

She tilted her head to her right slightly and stared at the empty hammock swinging in the air, and was suddenly struck by a pang of nostalgia and memories. Especially the one where they'd scouted the huge, tree-filled part of the garden area to find four trees with identical gaps to tie the hammocks right beside each other.

She chuckled, remembering all their shenanigans, but shook herself off quickly.

I'm here to enjoy the garden, not reminisce the glory days. With that, she stubbornly pushed away her thoughts, turning her head back straight as she let her eyes fall shut, inhaling slowly to enjoy the wonderful scents of wet earth after a rainy day and the greenness of the trees, permeating all around her.

Tatum remained like that for a while, basking in the beauty of it all. The beautiful silence of nature with nothing but the sounds of a few birds chirping was interrupted by the whir of a car's engine approaching distantly, probably a couple of miles away. It pulled her out of her comfortable state of mind for a moment, but she ignored it, determined to not let anything disturb her evening.

'Tatum?'

That was her mom, talking via the Tele-link, probably because she'd stopped by her room and wondered where she was.

'Yes?'

'Are you in the garden?'

'Yes, mom.'

'Great, want me to bring you something? Iced Tea? Lemonade?'

'No, it's fine, mom. Thanks.'

'Alright, kiddo.'

Tatum hated but secretly loved the fact that her mom still insisted on calling her stuff like 'pup', 'kiddo', and every other pet name on earth. Sometimes she wondered if her mom only did that because she felt sorry for her, but sometimes she thought it was just the nature of Maarika Karas. Whatever the reason was, Tatum didn't care and liked it.

Just as Tatum started to float in that happy, blissful state of almost dozed-off-but-still-aware-of-your-surroundings, she registered distinctly that the roar of the engine she'd heard a few minutes before was getting prominently closer, and probably headed down the road to her home if her judgement was accurate.

Huh, she thought. I didn't know people drove their cars much around the pack territory.

You're slacking off, Tatum. Start paying more attention to what's happening, you're gonna have to take responsibility for it all, soon.

She wanted to so badly ignore that stupid car interjecting on her evening, but much to Tatum's irritation, the car slowed down and turned into her driveway.

Just great.

Although Tatum couldn't see the visitors as she was somewhere in the middle of the woodsy garden by the side of her house, the air was quiet enough that she could hear the low murmur of voices and the opening and closing of car doors. She couldn't pick up on what was being said as the distance was too far, but the two distinct baritones, one deep and masculine and the other slightly high-pitched one, were easily identifiable.

Freaking awesome. What the heck were they doing here?

Tatum shook her head and tuned them out. They must've probably come down here to talk to her father or mother on something official. They couldn't have come down here to see her because, well, they saw enough of each other—too much, in her opinion—throughout the day and she would live a happy life if she's not forced to see more of them in her evenings, too.

Then she heard a single set of footsteps crunching their way across the dried leaves and fallen flowers towards her. Soon, the car pulled out and drove away.

"Whatever it is, I'm not in the mood. Call up Francesca and have her take you back." Tatum called with her eyes closed, once she heard him clear the trees and reach their spot. She heard a chuckle at her comment, but refused to open her eyes, because she was resting dammit, and he can't walk in and interrupt her day just like he pleased.

And then she felt the strangest feeling on her forehead—a featherlight touch of something exquisitely soft for a brief second, right on top of the wrinkle in-between her eyes where she was frowning due to the unexpected intrusion. The smacking sound as he pulled away and the fan of his warm breath on her eyebrows made her realize after a second that he'd just kissed her forehead.

Her heart leapt out of her chest like that cute animated character's does whenever his crush walks by. Her eyes popped open automatically as she sat up quickly in surprise, almost toppling over from the swinging hammock in the sudden movement, but catching herself in the last moment.

Was he trying to kill her with a case of high blood pressure and take over as Alpha?

Seriously.

"Woah, your heart's beating a mile a minute! I didn't mean to scare you. You were just cute with that little frown on your face!" Angier exclaimed as he sat back on his hammock slowly, looking shocked and surprised like that was a totally unexpected reaction to what he just did.

Well, according to his oblivious thought process, it must be.

And Tatum wasn't even gonna think about that 'cute' comment right now. She didn't want to add asphyxiation to the list of causes of her sudden death.

So back to the point, maybe, it wasn't really intentional then.

"You just gave me a shock, is all." Tatum mumbled as she cleared her throat, tucking her loose hair behind her ear in a self-conscious gesture, looking away from his grinning face as she tried hard to reign in the color threatening to explode across her cheekbones.

Looked like she failed anyway.

"And, you're blushing." Angier stated the obvious as his eyebrows shot past his unruly blond bangs, making him the picture of skepticism.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious. Sudden shock equals increased heartbeat and higher flow of blood." Tatum rolled her eyes for good measure, hoping like hell he doesn't see right through her.

She did not want that kind of complication in her life right now.

Angier nodded slowly in response as if considering what she'd said, and Tatum resisted the sigh of relief that wanted to push past her lips. Looked like she worried too much over nothing, because guys are just not wired to sense these kinds of things quickly.

Then again, Micajah and Ezra are guys and both of them had guessed—maybe with Seneca's help—in just a few days

"So, you got my point. I'm not in the mood. You may leave, now." Tatum exhaled as she carefully leaned back on her hammock, situating herself comfortably in her earlier position.

This time though, she didn't close her eyes.

Lesson learnt.

"About that, I'm sure you'll change your tune when you actually hear what I'm here for," Angier replied as he too, carefully leaned back and stretched his arms behind his head to look up at the huge trees and the evening sky.

"Fine, what did you think I'll be so excited about?" She turned her head to look at him, pursing her lips in an unimpressed manner.

"Ass-kicking. Someone promised to take care of my training for this whole year." Angier smirked as he finally turned to meet her eyes, and Tatum felt her heart squeeze at that twinkle in those turquoise orbs that she'd missed so much in the past week. That twinkle that came out to play whenever it was just the two of them.

She remembered the drama he'd done the last time they'd trained for his challenge, but decided that since it's him asking her to train this time, maybe he was over it after all.

"That someone would've kept her promise if her trainee hadn't taken so many days off, so come the hell on." Tatum said in a fake-annoyed tone as she sat up, ready to finally go and have some blood-pumping action to get all this restless energy out of her.

Because unlike someone, she wasn't—ahem—getting any every-freaking-day.

"Nuh-uh." Angier reached forward and grabbed her forearm, preventing her from getting up fully, "Not so fast. After a little while." He shot her a pleading look, an uncertain smile playing across his lips. "I've . . ." He gulped a little as he pulled his hand back, looking away, "I've missed this."

Tatum did sigh this time, falling back as she looked up at the sky. She ignored the million little confessions that were just on the tip of her tongue, instead choosing the one he would be happy with. "Me too."

~

"Not this again." Tatum rolled her eyes, fighting against the urge to face-palm as she shook her head in dismay.

She'd been wrong about him being over his opposition for the challenge.

Definitely wrong.

She walked over to the table (in the corner of the spare-room-converted-into-top-secret-training room they'd been using for a while now since Angier wasn't ready to tell anyone—including his own Mate, about their plan for him to challenge for Beta) and grabbed a bottle of much-needed water. Her throat was parched and dry after all the hoarse yelling, screaming and the general fights that were inevitable when she and Angier butted heads over something.

They'd never managed to accomplish so much fighting and hollering in the same day though.

This had to be a new record for them.

"Wa . . . ter," Angier croaked from his position on the gym mat, acting as if he was in such pain that he was about to take his last breath. That's a pile of horse-shit if you asked her, 'cause really, it was nothing more than a handful of bruises on places not even vital. Still, the liar wanted out of becoming the Beta, so it seemed he would resort to any measure, even if it is lying on the ground like a pansy after a few measly hits.

Tatum couldn't desist from the eye-roll this time as she grabbed another bottle for the smart-ass on the floor, pressing her lips together to stop a slew of curses that would accomplish nothing but yet another yelling match. His apparently too-injured-to-move senses had no problem snatching the bottle she threw from the air right before it hit his head, unscrewing it to take gulps faster than humanly, or even wolf-ly possible.

Angier, the soon-to-be Academy award winner, for best acting seemed to be on a roll.

"I don't care if you freaking die out there. You are challenging her and that's final." Tatum declared, crossing her arms as she resisted the urge to chuck the empty bottle on her stubborn friend's head. She'd been refraining from doing a lot of things that day. Besides, she didn't say that because she didn't care for her best friend's life, but because she knew that if anyone would be dying on the ground out there, it wouldn't be Angier. His skills were far superior to that.

She would know because they'd trained together for more than a decade, and his lack of lineage wasn't gonna tip the scales even a bit.

He placed a hand over his heart, clutching it dramatically as his turquoise eyes rimmed with moisture that was no doubt fake, "B-but . . . " He hiccuped, looking down with a sniffle, "T-Tatum . . . I thought you loved me! I thought you were my . . . " He swallowed as if the next word was too painful to say, "My best friend! How can you wish death upon me when I would kill anyone who touches a hair on your head!" He let out a sob at that, putting his head between his knees as his hands clutch fistfuls of hair, tugging so hard she worried he might really rip a chunk of those glorious blond curls out.

She shook away that thought immediately.

He could rip out his own hair if he wanted.

"Cut it out, Angier!" She snapped, putting all of her frustration and anger into her tone, "I don't understand what the problem is! I would bet a million bucks you can take out Delilah as it is now, but since you insisted on training harder, I agreed and there's nothing wrong with being more ready. But, every time I get you to step into the mat you chicken out and don't cooperate. And might I remind you this time, you were the one who sought me out and asked if we could train, but you're still pulling this shit!"

"That's not it!" Angier snapped back, glaring daggers as he looked up at her with eyes so dry, no one would even think he was crying a moment before. Well, not really crying, but you get the point. "I don't want to gain everyone's hatred, Tatum! How many fucking times do I tell you that? And the reason I wanted to train today was because I'd missed you so damn much and considering the mood you were in this morning, I knew you would never agree to hang out unless it's this!"

Her heart did a gallop at his words and the strangest feeling of happiness spread through her, but she ignored it, plowing ahead.

"Why the fuck would they hate you, dammit!" She yelled, not missing a beat, "Just because it hasn't happened in our pack before, it doesn't mean that no one should do it!" She lowered her voice, her tone taking on a pleading note, "It's like the animal world for us; the survival of the fittest. There's no room to feel bad for those who can't keep up."

He couldn't argue at that, because no matter what he would like to say, it really was the survival of the fittest in here. Yes, indeed, the Alpha and their subordinates protect every one of their Pack, but really, to be one of the protectors, you need a tough shell and a lot of bravado that doesn't just involve being the heir by blood.

"I get where you're coming from," He sighed reluctantly, meeting her eyes, "I'm not so sure I like it."

She resisted the urge to grin, to gloat over her victory because that would only tip him over the edge and he would revert to being unwilling again, just to spite her.

Sometimes the way his stubbornness rivaled hers made her wonder if he had some dormant Alpha genes he wasn't aware of.

"Get up," She lent him a hand in a rare gesture, because she usually abstained from touching him unless absolutely necessary. "We'll just train for now. We've lost enough training for the past few days since you've met your Mate as it is. We'll wonder about all the challenging later."

He looked at her hand pensively, before shaking his head and placing his much larger one in hers, jumping to a stand before pulling away, taking his place a couple of feet away.

Tatum refused to acknowledge the strangest pang that went through her, the sensation of missing something she didn't even have to begin with when his hand left hers, or the way her inner self was crying out in vain that they were made for each other.

No, my dear self. He was made for Francesca Blythe. Never forget that.

Her loneliness was doing crazy things to her head.

"And, Ang?" He looked up, and Tatum met his gaze squarely, "If you thought for a second that I didn't miss you enough for you to talk me into doing anything in the world you wanted, you're wrong."

Angier grinned that blinding grin, and Tatum wondered if she'd ever be able to get over her feelings if he kept up with that. "You really shouldn't give me ammo like that, Tatum. Next time, I just might try to drag you to that new zip-lining place in Hopetown."

"Don't push it." Tatum huffed playfully, "I'm only coming if you agree to stop being a drama-queen."

"Alright, alright." He bounced slightly on his toes, doing a come-hither motion with both hands, "Let's do this shit."

And for the rest of the evening, everything was back to normal.

Almost.

~ * ~

Question: What do you think are some things that Angier, Tatum and Francesca can do together? (In college and outside college.) all ideas are welcomed and dedications and credits will be given if the idea is used.

Thank you. xx

NEXT UPDATE: 17 JUNE. 

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