Fated to the Werewolf King

Dinner was quiet between them, but it was better than the hostility he first showed her. Jayce was flying through the food like he also hadn't eaten in the last few days. He had spaghetti sauce plastered around his mouth. He almost looked like a messy toddler.

Jayce pushed the plate away, leaning back on his stool. "That was amazing.” He voiced openly as he wiped his mouth. Lily rose from her seat, taking his plate and her own, and went to the sink. She cleaned up after the mess they both made. "Don't think I can clean the dishes, either?" He joked again.

"It's the least I can do. You're letting me stay here after all.” She responded as she cleaned. The scent of fresh rain was at her back as she heard his stool scratch against the tile. She can feel the heat overflow from his body, but she ignored it. She became self aware of his closeness, bringing her arms closer together and her shoulders hunched up slightly.

"How long did my mother plan for you to stay here?" He asked suddenly from directly behind her. It scared her that if she moved the slightest, she would bump into him.

"Uh," She felt the tremor in her voice, and she did her best to get it under wraps, "a year, but if things go well with therapy, I can leave sooner.” She said to him. His hand appeared beside her, making her flinch suddenly when he turned off the water.

"Look at me, Lily." He spoke into her ear. Her thighs quivered excitedly as she slowly faced him. Her eyes met his chest first before slowly moving until they landed on his face. She had never been this close to him before. Her eyes traced his chiseled jawline, not a single stubble in sight. Her eyes flitted to his, and she withheld a breath. Being this close, she can see red and orange mingling beautifully, like flames dancing in a fireplace. His black hair dangled loosely over his eyes. Her hand reached up, pushing his locks aside, taking them both by surprise. His hand came up, grabbing hers gently. Her body became electrified once their skin touched. Her breath caught and her heart raced. She felt her clothes clinging to her body as her sex heated.

"Did it just get hot in here?" She asked breathlessly. Her eyes roamed over his body. His own button-up shirt clung to him like paint, showing the definition of his muscled body against the fabric. He was panting, his own breathing labored like hers. His other hand was on the counter beside her and he was clutching it for dear life.

"It's like a damn sauna in here." He growled, but his eyes didn't leave hers. His body was so close still, and his hand still had hold of hers. That's when the realization hit her.

"I didn't flinch.” She whispered. Jayce inclined his head before he realized what she meant and lowered her hand, but kept it in her line of sight. His thumb brushed against the back of her hand in slow circles. Her eyes finally left his and down to their joined hands.

"It's a wonderful step in the right direction.” His husky tone was low and closer to her now. Her eyes fell shut as he continued to rub the back of her hand. He was right. This was rather soothing for her. A pleasant change compared to what she had been going through. As if on cue, Jaspers face flashed before her closed eyelids, the look of disgust on his face. Her eyes snapped open, and she pulled her hand away quickly.

"Lily?" Jayce spoke her name, but it was too late. Her shoulders were already shaking. Jasper was mocking her. Lily covered her ears and squeezed her eyes shut, but it wasn't enough. She felt Jayce touch her arm, but she shoved him away. Then she ran from him again, but Jasper's voice continued to bounce off the walls of her mind. She slammed her door shut. The sun cast shadows across the room, but she could still hear him in her head, mocking and twisting her words against her. She crawled onto the bed, taking refuge under the covers, and covered her ears again. She thought she heard her door open and panicked, scurrying to get out from under the covers.

"Lily, it's me." Jayce spoke softly to her. She kicked the blanket away from her, falling off the bed. "I'm sorry." She cried to him, pushing herself up against the wall, her hands up in front of her. He stopped at the edge of her bed, but she refused to meet his gaze. She can feel the way he judged her with his crimson eyes. "Please don't get mad." She pleaded.

"I'm not mad, Lily." He said, but she couldn't believe him. Jasper was always mad when he said he wasn't. He took a step forward, but all she could see was Jasper's dominating hands reaching for her.

"Jasper, no!" she screamed, shielding her face. The hands stopped reaching for her, but the tension that stressed every nerve of her being was crushing her heart. "Please, I won't do it again.” She begged. The hands reached forward again, and she embraced for the hit. Calloused hands wrapped around her arms, tugging her forward until her body pressed up against a hard surface. The scent of rain clouded her senses, soothing her almost instantaneously. Her body released the pent up stress she had created and her eyes overflowed with tears. She inhaled the scent again, letting it devour her insecurities. Her hands gripped at the fabric so tightly, she thought her nails would pierce right through it. One hand released her arm and stroked her hair. Any image of Jasper faded away from existence for the time being, and everything around her fell back into place.

After an hour went by, her crying finally ceased, but she refused to let go of the man that had been comforting her. His fingers continued to brush through her hair slowly. The room had darkened a bit with the setting sun coming through the window when she finally pulled back. Her blurred vision cleared as she was face to face with Jayce's drenched shirt.

"I'm sorry..." she apologized when his hand came up and stopped her.

"Stop apologizing unless you actually feel sorry.” He said to her. It surprised her with his words. She didn't truly feel sorry for crying on him. Deep down it felt needed to get it off of her chest, but as of late, that's all she seemed to do.

"I can wash it for you.” She offered, now spotting a shine of snot on his shirt. A layer of embarrassment colored her cheeks.

"You're not my maid, Lily." He told her. His fingers stopped in her hair. "Are you okay now?" He asked her, and she slowly nodded. For now, at least. "Good. I still have some work to finish up. You should take the rest of the day off." He told her, and her eyes drifted over to her desk where her laptop sat open

"Shit, the deadline.” She groaned softly, pulling away from him more now that she found her footing again. He moved away from her, giving her the space she needed to breathe. She looked up at him, but his eyes were outside her window, a distant look in them. Had she crossed the line with attaching herself to him the way she did? She opened her mouth to apologize again, but she stopped, remembering his words.

"Thank you.” She ended up saying to him. His eyes shifted over to her. Surprise glimmered for a moment before his gaze softened slightly. She never saw him with that expression before.

"Of course.” He mumbled before making his way to her door, "I mean it, get some rest." He threw back at her before closing the door behind himself. After letting out a breath, she went into her bathroom and washed her face. She can still smell him on her clothes as she gazed into the mirror, slapping her cheeks and pushed her hair back. She had work to do.

She stared at her blank computer screen. Her fingers hovered over the keys, poised and ready. Yet her mind drew a blank. She would type a few words to begin, but quickly delete it. Nothing was sitting right, and this first draft was due in a matter of a few weeks. Her manager would call her soon for an update, and if she couldn't give her one, she might as well kiss her career goodbye. She glanced at the clock tucked away in the screen's corner.

9:30 PM

It was late since she had been sitting here and made no progress at all. She sat back in her chair, stretched her arms above her head, and looked around her large bedroom. It was like a studio apartment minus the kitchen. It was worth far more than what Penelope stated, but she couldn't argue against a great deal.

"I'll just take a walk. Maybe something of inspiration will hit me.” She said to herself as she left the room. The hall was quiet, but she can smell him further down the corridor. She walked as quietly as her feet would allow her to, glancing at the rooms as she walked on by them. Most doors were closed, but a white door caught her attention. As she crept toward it, she found a beautiful pure white grand piano sitting in the center of the room. She glanced down the hall where she believed he was before she slipped into the room quietly. The room looked untouched, with its empty white walls and marble tiling. White curtains swayed with the gentle breeze that came through the open window that looked out over the garden. Her fingers ran along the top of the piano before taking a seat on the bench. Her hands scaled the keys with delicate precision before playing. She hesitated at first, but the way the piano sang to her drowned out her worries and she played.