Big Bad Wolfie

Chapter 5) Such A Drag

After the dress, it was hair and makeup and this and that and all this stuff that actually did end up

taking most of the day.

I didn't get to look in the mirror much this whole time, but I caught a glimpse of myself in a window on

our way to my aunt and uncle's office — which Jason has taken over — and I don't look terrible.

It's not what I would have done for myself — the makeup's a little heavy — but it could have been

worse.

I will be wiping some of it off, though. They made my freckles disappear under all this concealer! That

was probably the point, but I look weird without them. Like I'm my evil twin with really clear skin or

something. Not to mention the blush. They went crazy with it. I look like a clown that just got

complemented on my shoes, but they said, and I quote, "we've got to add some color to those lifeless

cheeks."

Well I'm sorry, not enough blood flows through my veins for that.

The eyes are pretty loud too. Although, I'm afraid if I try to wipe off the blue-purple hombre thing going

on, it will ruin everything and make me look even more like a clown. And that's not the look I'm going

for either.

The hair's fine. It's just two simple french braids running down over my shoulder and stopping near the

middle of my back. It really makes all the different colors I have running through my hair look beautiful.

The style's nothing too extreme. What they wanted to do at first though, was. They were so adamant

about wanting to dye my crazy colored dark brown, nearly black hair, BLONDE. Blonde! Out of all

shades! They ranted about how great it would be for the look and how it would make my green eyes

pop and blah blah blah. First of all, my eyes aren't always green. Second of all. . .

. . . Well, I just have no desire to be a blonde.

And I'm afraid of commitment and change so I keep my hair the same forever, but that has very little

to do with it.

I literally had to pin the hair stylist's wrists behind her back to keep her from doing it. The warriors and

Blondie tried to stop me(this also took up quite a bit of time) but I was not letting go until I knew for sure

my hair wasn't getting dyed.

And now, here we are. Walking down the hall to meet Wolfie. Hair still perfectly brown and rainbow.

I wonder what he'll think.

No I don't. I don't care.

. . . Yes I do.

But he will never EVER know that.

Blondie knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" Wolfie called from inside.

"It's Emily."

So Blondie's name is Emily.

"Come in," he responded.

We did as he said and opened the door. I looked around and noticed he hasn't done much to the

office. He's sitting at the larger of the two desks — my aunt's — and he's moved it to the center of the

room. There's also a bunch of papers — probably her stuff — that fill the trash can next to him.

Well, at least now my aunt's desk is finally getting cleaned out.

That's pretty much it of what he changed. My uncle's things haven't even been touched.

We stepped into the room and found him looking down at a couple of documents. I recognize a few of

them as my aunt's, and others I don't recognize at all.

Blondie — or, Emily placed her hand at the small of my back and ushered me forward until I was in

front of his desk. My eyes wonder down to some of his papers while he's busy.

"I'll be done in just a second." He glanced up at us, then went back to his work. "I just need to —" he

stopped and looked up again, seeming a little star struck. ". . . Finish this."

Ha.

He sat there staring at me for a bit. Eyes unblinking and trained on me.

None of his people seemed to know what to do.

"Well, chop chop, I don't believe in being fashionably late," I exclaimed with a clap, in the hopes of

snapping him out of his little brain malfunction.

Partially because it was giving me butterflies.

He blinked. "Right! Wait, what time is it?" He checked his watch. "Four thirty two! We won't have any

time for traffic. Zach, tell that to the driver and have him start the car."

"Yes, alpha."

I whipped around, and there stood Happy, the beta.

When did he get here?!

Before I could even think twice about it, he was gone.

Jason stood up after stacking all his papers, and I'm just now noticing that he's not wearing what he Upstodatee from Novel(D)ra/m/a.O(r)g

was before. Now he's wearing black slacks and a white button up.

Yum.

I'm not even mad at that one. The way that shirt fits is not doing him any wrong.

He reached over and grabbed his jacket, and I watched the muscles flex in his back and arms as he

slipped it on.

YUM!!

Okay, that one made me feel a little like a creep.

He started making his long strides towards the door and grabbed my arm on the way, dragging me

along behind him.

Stupid sparks erupted.

"Geez, how do you walk so fast?" I questioned, annoyed with being dragged around.

"Keep up," he threw over his shoulder instead of answering my question.

"Um, excuse me? You can get back to me on that after you put on a pair of three inch heels," I shot

back.

"You'll be waiting a while from that. Might as well just speed up now," he replied.

Oh you little —

He yanked me forward, cutting off my mental come back.

I tried to stay in step with him but I kept stumbling over my own feet. Stupid heels. We got to the stairs

outside the house, and he started heading down them. Very quickly. I stepped down the first step and

my ankle immediately twisted painfully underneath me. I lost my footing — obviously — and started

preparing myself to face plant.

I waited a few milliseconds.

Nothing.

What the heck?

I peaked an eye open.

I found myself hovering a few feet off the ground. I turned my head to see Jason, still with his hand

around my forearm, but now, the other is wrapped around my waste, keeping me from crashing into the

ground(because of course, what kind of hate-love story doesn't have someone falling helplessly into

another someone's arms *intense eye roll*). He hasn't picked me back up, so we're still in this sort of

dipping position(because yeah). He's standing over me, looking down at my not so frail figure.

Not frail, yet, we're here. With me hanging relatively helpless in his arms.

Sounds like something a frail person would do to me.

I hate it.

Nevertheless, butterflies exploded in my stomach.

I opened my mouth, not knowing what to say or do. This is so weird! With his face so close to mine

and eyes boring into me.

They're beautiful.

I hate it.

Why am I paralyzed by his gaze? This has never happened before. Is this all because of the stupid

mate bond? That's how it works? It just makes him completely irresistible?

And. . . Alluring.

And beautiful.

And amazing smelling.

And — AH!

I hate it. Just like I hate the undeniable beauty in his eyes and ability to make my knees wobble out of.

. . What?! Admiration of his perfectness?

The logical side of me is saying, he's a normal person(possibly below average) that just goes through

the motions of things to fit in. You've seen nothing amazingly special about him he's courageous

enough to act on. My reasoning: he took over a house to please his power hungry werewolf friends! To

rise in their ranks. To gain power among them.

On the contrary, every other side of me is saying, mate mate mate! you NEED this being in your life

FOREVER! He is the most bestest, perfectest, amazingest thing in the universe. No matter how

impeccably stupid and hard he is to get along with under the circumstances.

Even that side of me knows my life would be SO MUCH easier without him.

Though, the logical side of me also says,

(I know, I talk to myself a lot in my head, deal with it.)

If you try to get away from the mate-hood, it will feel like someone is ripping a piece of your heart out

and trying to shove it back in, inside out.

Literally. Not just emotionally.

So. . . The mate bond wins.

In turn, I feel like a dear caught in extremely mesmerizing headlights.

I hate it.

I despise it with a burning passion.

So to get out of this extremely uncomfortable position, I did the first thing that came to mind.

I know I said I wouldn't do it, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

"Thanks," I stated casually just to break the ice.

Acting skills on point. I bet he couldn't even tell I was drooling over him.

He nodded and slowly brought me back up to his side, still staring intensely into my eyes. "No

problem, wouldn't want to mess up that pretty face of yours."

Hehe, thanks.

I hate you.

"But of course you would say that, wouldn't want to mess up that totally not superficial reputation of

yours," I smiled back at him.

He looked unamused.

Good.

Now that we're not in that position, I can see more than just unicorns and rainbows and can think

clearly.

He started walking again, and now I have time to take in my surroundings.

The place is empty, except for multiple werewolves prowling around. Guards I'm assuming. Some are

in human form and others are in wolf form.

"Everyone is under house arrest until further notice when we can get some rules in place," Jason

explained, already knowing what I was thinking.

I grimaced.

I hate this.

. . . Those are my friends. My family.

I glanced up and caught him looking down at me. He immediately turned his head back to the front,

trying to act like he wasn't just staring at me.

I took in a deep breath.

Sorry Wolfie. You're in for a ride.

I'm getting my house back.