Waindale

I turn on the lamp that’s sat on top of my dresser. The pink lampshade makes my room glow with a feminine warmth, and it shines through the glass of my window; a signal so he can find his way home. It’s dark out there, so bone-chillingly dark that I nearly fear for him before realizing that he is the greatest danger in those woods.

A thick cover of clouds masks the moon, but I feel close to her. I glance back the wooden charm strung on my headboard. I like to think that it helps me sleep, like a dream-catcher. It makes me feel like a part of their world. If Adam’s mother won’t approve of me, then the moon goddess will. The woman from that shop on the water said that she loves all her children and those who love her children. Being mated to one of her children must be beyond qualifying, but are all these feelings and things I’m experiencing—is this bond love? If I had to label our connection, it would have to be something of love. There are no past feelings I can recall to determine exactly what love is, yet I will willingly call this it. What besides love can have such effects on a person?

After today, all I want to do is see Adam and talk to him. Everyone’s eyes still seem to follow me now—it feels like the gossiping and judging will never stop. I can’t even escape the anxiety in my own bedroom, far from the Academy, far from the stares, far from the covered whispers. A part of me really thought that the students at the Academy would be different than the average, terrible teenager. I was hopeful. I was wrong.

I sit against my headboard with a pillow held to my chest. The last time we spoke was when he brought me home after meeting his mother. It made me awkward, uncomfortable, doubtful—sure. But today I realized that Adam is on my side and I can’t be completely sure about everyone else. My mother is unsure about this all. His mother believes I’m useless. Vivianne is getting frustrated with me. Grandma knows nothing. The only person I feel I can be completely honest with is him. He didn’t want things between us to turn sour because of a future detail. Adam wanted to protect me from it all. I may think that he’s been keeping me in the dark—that I’m not good enough—but that’s not what he’s doing. It may not be the perfect plan—there are flaws no matter what way we go about this—but he’s trying. He’s trying to keep me safe and my heart safe.

Shifting onto my side, I gaze out the window. What if he doesn’t come? All I can do is think about him. My mind is going into a bit of a withdrawal. If he doesn’t come my night will crumble. I’ll be left to wallow until my body eventually gives up and falls asleep. I’ve never been so excited about someone. Just the thought of seeing him—it fuels me. It gives me purpose in this moment.

Every rustle of branches or gust of wind causes me to perk up, but it still isn’t him. I glance at the clock. It’s far past midnight now. Tiredness looms over me and I can’t help but crawl under my covers. I pull them up to my chest and rest my head on my pillow, just lifted enough to keep the window in view. Eventually, my eyes slowly shut and open and shut and open. My body seems to sink into the mattress. I look at the clock one last time. It’s past one. Disappointment settles in my core, but my exhaustion makes it easier to digest.

When I reach a state of near-sleep, distant sounds prod at me. I can’t bring myself to open my eyes. A sense of peace and love seeps into my bed and envelopes me. A hand brings my blankets further up then brushes the rogue hairs from my face. “Adam,” I manage to murmur.

“Go to sleep,” he says softly.

A noise slips through my lips as I turn onto my back. “No, no,” I say, disoriented. “I’m awake. I’m up.”

There’s not a chance I’m letting him go. My fingers rub my eyes until they can tolerate the light of my lamp. Soon I see his face as he stands with his arms crossed, looking down at me.

“You can fall asleep, Wrenley. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

My brows furrow. “No. Wait. Don’t go.” The background becomes less blurry. “Please stay,” I say and look to the free side of my bed. My mind runs wild. I pat the empty side.

Adam lets out a quick, breathy, dismissing laugh of sorts. “Come on,” I say, feeling brave. “We can pillow-talk.”

Ignoring whatever he may say, I shove off the pretty pillows and prepare the spot for him. I yank back the heavy blankets, revealing pale sheets with delicate yellow flowers. My hand unconsciously runs across the sheets.

“You’re going to let all the warmth out,” I say and look back to him. His concerns are evident.

“Wrenley, I—”

“Adam,” I mimic his tone. “We’re just talking.”

Adam sighs. He comes around to the other side of the bed, steps out of his shoes, sheds his leather jacket. I watch with an explosive eagerness. The bed moves as he gets in. My fingers grip the end of my pillow as if it’s the only thing keeping me tied to the real world. I don’t want to let go. Don’t let this dare be a dream.

I can’t help but smile. His eyes find mine, looking for my satisfaction. As a final touch, I reach over and pull the covers over his shoulder, then I take the few seconds I have to memorize this exact image. “Will you always give me what I want?” I ask.

“It seems that way, doesn’t it?” He says and looks over his body in my bed.

“I’m sorry for how I reacted yesterday. She just got to me. I know it wasn’t your fault.”

Adam, not expecting me to bring it up, says nothing. His eyes gaze so deeply into mine that I wonder if he can hear my thoughts. Finally, he says, “You have nothing to apologize for.”

The pinkness and warmth of my lamp rest against his handsome face. It coats everything. I take in the sight of his head on my pillow. All we can do is look at one another because an unspoken rule has been established limiting any possible touching. Although the door is locked, I know that Adam would never try anything. It only makes me want to bring him to break the rule, to make him unable to help himself.

“Let’s just go,” I mumble. “Let’s just leave.”

In my dreams I’m able to say anything I want. There’s no fear. Am I dreaming? Should I break the rule and touch him just to make sure?

“Can’t we go somewhere where we can be alone without anyone else?” There’s a lightness to my voice, an innocence. It’s a sleepover but instead of confessing to a best friend, I’m tiredly pouring my thoughts to my biggest crush. “I just want to be alone with you.”

“We’re alone right now,” he says, the sound of his voice frustrating me.

“No,” I clarify, “we aren’t really alone. If we were alone, no one else would matter. No one else would be taken into consideration.”

“I’m afraid that’s going to be impossible. When you’re Alpha, everyone has to be taken into consideration. You no longer put yourself first.”

I bite the inside of my cheek and fall onto my pillow, rolling onto my back. “They don’t even like me,” I mutter. “I can’t go back to the Academy tomorrow. All they do is stare at me and talk about me.”

“I would have told you that was going to happen, but I thought you’d expect it.”

“I did. I just—I don’t like it. It’s all because I’m human, I know it.”

Adam tries to convince me, “They’re going to talk about you no matter what you are.” My eyes water as I yawn into the back of my hand, and he says, “We can talk about this later. You need to sleep.”

“B-But there’s more to talk about. I was supposed to ask about the ceremony tomorrow. Vivianne said—”

“There won’t be a ceremony.”

I sit up. “What?”

Adam peers off to the side. “I don’t think it’s the best time. I’ll still be taking the role of Alpha tomorrow, but there’s no need to throw a party. I’m not doing it for myself. I’m doing it for the pack and for you.”

“Your parents?” I murmur.

“I told you. Once I’m Alpha, they lose control. They won’t go far, but we’ll have space. I can’t take you away from here, but I can give you room to breathe.”

“What’s going to happen tomorrow, then?”

“My parents will be moving out of the family house while I’ll officially take over. You will attend the academy, and I will be there to pick you up afterward. We can have the rest of the day, but you’ll have to go to bed now, okay?”

I shake my head, fighting back another yawn. “I can’t.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because if I fall asleep you’ll leave.”

“Wrenley, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“No. Every time you leave I’m just waiting to see you again. I’m stuck wondering when you’ll be back—if you’ll show up. Why can’t you just stay?”

His eyes soften. I watch as he gets out of bed and turns off my lamp. The room is submerged in darkness; I hear his footsteps travel around me as my eyes adjust. The bed moves underneath me and my disappointment fades. His shadow climbs back in.

I know when I wake he’ll be gone. I’ll question whether any of this happened at all, but for now, I face him and close my eyes. For now, I’ll savor this feeling and sleep peacefully next to him even if he slips out my window the second I’m whisked away by my dreams. In the middle of the night, I swear I hear him returning to the forest. The window slides open but not before I feel his hand briefly touch my forehead. His hand moves against my hair as he kisses me goodnight. The sensation lingers above my brow, and I hope to remember it in the morning, but my dreams always escape me when my eyes open.

When I find myself alone, when the sunrise beams into my bedroom, I push off my pillow and sit myself up. Grogginess weighs on me as I get out of bed and dress for school. With my uniform on, I head to the bathroom, then the kitchen, then the living room where my mother is with grandma. I say goodbye before walking out the door with my backpack strapped to my shoulders.

I’m going to be strong. If Adam can be strong for me, then I can do the same in return. Those students can whisper and gossip all they want. I’m going to go to class and learn and talk to my friends and leave when the bell rings. Hopefully he’ll be there when I walk down those school steps—then I’ll know.