--- Beonnie ---

I shouldn't linger here; I knew that. But I had become an addict, intoxicated by the love that emanated between Tristan and Dhalia. I spent my mornings lying flat on my stomach, spying on the striking couple, with my backpack always on my back because I was going to leave that day. But as if they knew they were headlining my favourite romantic drama, I was always left with a cliffhanger when they separated, and instead of going – I stayed. Today, I anxiously awaited the appearance of said friend Zac, whose powers I romanticised to be immense.

After about a week of spying, I learned that the pack was one of the biggest on the continent, a Prospect pack nonetheless. Their alpha was apparently some tyrant and quite possibly under the spell of some hex master. Heh, at first, I had thought they said "Sexmaster" and was thoroughly confused for two long days. Then I understood that the person referred to as Ivalde was a witch of some sort, a hex master, and, in reality, probably had very little sex, according to Tristan.

The alpha had not found his mate and was really old—well, close to his forties anyway. When an alpha doesn't find his mate, his powers start to diminish, and with that, his whole pack's powers. As he was Alpha King Prospect, the threat was even higher, as his place as Alpha King Prospect could, and probably would, be challenged by other alphas in his Prospect, eager to take over the elevated status of being one of the four Alpha King Prospects.

Not finding his mate and the weakened state of his pack had recently made him enlist the service of said hex master, whose job seemed to be to force unmated werewolves into unfated relationships. This was done mainly to increase the number of pups born each year, but as everyone knows, having a pup with someone other than your fated or marked mate was difficult.

Fortunately, there had only been a couple of these "relationship attempts," with Tristan and LuAnn being the second. Dhalia and her future mate Lot were the third and most recent, and they announced it just a couple of days before Tristan and Dhalia bumped into each other on patrol and realised they were mates. My heart fluttered every time I thought about it. My parents had met almost the same way. Almost.

Tristan had not marked his assigned mate yet, which greatly angered their alpha. The Zac person was the key to unclogging this havoc, and this morning, he was expected to join them right here—by my waterfall, like a season finale.

I was beyond excited. I was again lying flat on my stomach, with my backpack on my back just in case, and nervous for some reason. In a "Be still my beating heart"-kind of situation. It was also a reflection on my current state of affairs. Being alone, exiled, gulp, and unmissed in all possible ways, I had, for at least a week now, procrastinated my own life for the benefit of following the adoring couple and their secret rendezvous. Admittedly, I also fantasised about this Zac person being my mate. It was improbable, of course, but such was the current state of my emotions.

Tristan and Dhalia sat on their favourite rock, soaking in each other's company. Their previous light touching had graduated into general smooching as they had figured out that since none of the four involved in this drama were marked, no one would be hurt by their intimacy. Fated mates would feel immense pain if their mate, for some reason, was intimate with someone else, and marked mates would also feel pain even if it wasn't as bad as for fated ones. 

Understanding that LuAnn would feel no pain if he kissed Dhalia had been like a giant green light for Tristan, and as his lips worked hers, his hands slowly unclasped the buttons that kept her top in place. Heh, werewolves usually kept to T-shirts and sweatpants since they shifted back and forth, but I suspected that Dhalia had wanted to look pretty in front of her destined mate and, therefore, had made an effort with a pink blouse. Oh. I sighed. I also wanted to wear a pretty pink blouse in front of my mate.

The blouse was almost entirely open, and as Tristan was advancing to the skin beneath it, I debated whether I should stop looking and decided to close my eyes. However, my issues with the matter were gone when I heard the rustling of leaves beneath me and realised he was here—the Zac person.

I slowly opened my eyes and peeked over the edge. He was tall, of course, muscular, of course, and even though I couldn't see his face properly as he was standing with his back halfway towards me, I was sure he was gorgeous, too, of course. I had heard so many bad things about the alpha and so many good things about this Zac that I was predisposed to adore him even before I set my eyes on his light blonde curls. Oh. We would be just like Dhalia and Tristan - matching hair colour. I was by now not only behaving like a lovestruck teenager - I was a lovestruck teenager, projecting all my feelings of despair and loneliness on the blonde guy on the ground beneath me.

"Tristan. You needed me?"

Ah, even his voice was pleasant. Masculine but friendly. So much so that he sounded familiar.

Tristan and Dhalia were still panting from their.. uhm, smooching but had managed to separate at lightning speed and were now standing a short distance from each other in front of their rock. In a lousy effort to compose himself, Tristan stepped forward and drew his hands through his hair. It was obviously a nervous tick.

"Zac. Thanks for coming. This is Dhalia," he said, indicating the woman beside him.

Zac nodded towards her.

"Beta Zac," she replied respectfully, submitting her eyes and using his title, which I noticed Tristan hadn't done. Uhum, so Zac was a Beta.

"So, what is going on?"

Zac turned to Tristan again as if he didn't know what to do with the woman. I noticed that the two men were not very much alike; Tristan was quite a bit smaller than Zac, and their hair colour didn't match. I began to suspect that Tristan referring to Zac as a brother perhaps was more of a "bro" thing.

"Well," Tristan said and did the hair thing again. "Dhalia is.. my mate. My real mate."

Zac's head snapped up in surprise, staring silently at the couple. Even I felt like cringing under the scrutiny, and I couldn't even see him, but it was apparent from the couple's reaction that this was a make-or-break moment for them. For me, too. I desperately wanted the Zac person to feel about them as I did. To help them fight against the monster that separated them. After all, I was a teenager with the constant turmoil of feelings that came with being just that. Feeling the deprivation of love and closeness, I had invested all my emotions into this moment.

"I.. uhm, okay. For how long have you known?"

YAY! He wasn't angry or resentful. He was on our side. He was going to help us for sure!

Them. He was going to help them.

I let out a sigh of relief.

"For a little longer than a week. We have been cautious and only met here during our border patrol."

Having received at least some support, Tristan was now more confident in his demeanour. He took Dhalia's hand as a sign of affection and smiled at her.

"It is hard to be separated now that we know."

She smiled back. I smiled back. Love was certainly in the air. Love, however, smelt strange. I sniffed the air. If the Zac person was responsible for this new smell, I could be sure he was not my mate. Nothing was intoxicating with the scent that followed the gust of winds I could feel from my surroundings. I had no time to dwell on that, though, as Zac was still my new hero, and it was his turn to speak.

"Ah. So you have been neglecting your patrol duty?"

What?

"What? No, Zac. We only meet after our shift is over. Sort of.. at least."

"Here? Every day for a week?"

What was going on? I didn't like this new version of Zac. Everything had started so well, and now he was not acting according to the script at all.

"Yes.. but mostly after the shift," Tristan answered, but his friend interrupted him.

"You have been so preoccupied with each other that you haven't even noticed that we are not alone here today. We have a visitor," Zac's voice was almost cold.

Stupid Zac and his stupid smell.

Then, two things dawned on me at the same time. He probably meant me when talking about a visitor, and he wasn't responsible for the pungent smell I felt. I had been too preoccupied with the drama beneath me to notice that Mama Bear finally had returned home. I realised she probably was just a few meters down the trail and a few seconds from discovering me by now; so much for wolf senses.

And then everything felt like it happened in slow motion. Zac turned his head upwards and looked right at me—blue eyes. Mama Bear took the last necessary steps to discover easy prey on her doorstep.

I got up on my feet.

The werewolves were a lesser problem, and I turned towards the angry bear. Cornered. Caught between a rock and a hard place. Me, that was. Only, my body had not fully recognised the practical impact of this cornering, and instinctively took a step back when the bear stood up on her hind legs, towering over me a meter or so. Unfortunately, nothing was behind me, and my action effectively sealed my fate as I, one second too late, realised my mistake and fell backwards toward the ground beneath me.

I realised I was going to die. If not from the fall, then from the fact that I was now trespassing pack borders. But probably from the fall. Frantically, I tried to get hold of something on my way down, but the cliff was wet from the waterfall, and I only managed to scrape myself bloody. Halfway down, I bumped into a smaller cliff sticking out, and the sharp pain in my lower right back side made me lose my breath. I hit my head. Tasted the blood in my mouth.

This was it.

Goodbye, world.

I closed my eyes, thinking about how I would never experience the feeling of being kissed. With that thought, I braced myself for the painful impact of the rocks beneath me.