The Traitor Panther

Chapter Twenty-Four-Cleo's POV

I guess I was handling the news that I wasn't really who I thought I was pretty well considering how I used to react to this sort of thing.

I am very confused, that's for fucking sure. Who am I really? Who are my real parents? Where are they? I doubt they're alive. Apparently, this entire pack has been erased not just from the face of the planet, but from the minds of anyone left on it. How could two Alphas and an Indiana Jones wanna be not know anything about this? I was beginning to question if the pack was even real. What if that wasn't me? I mean, it sure as hell looked like me.

I was irritated that things like this just had to happen to me. Nothing was simple. I am tired of character development.

I suddenly realized I hadn't heard much from my panther in a while.

Sorry, I was just as shocked as you. I was trying to remember something, anything, to help... I can think of nothing. I'm sorry. You have no reason to be sorry. At the end of the day, it's my past. 

I look up to Nate, my eyes scanning over his features. We were in his room now, me sitting on the bed in a towel, Nate pulling off his wet jeans in front of the window.

I really liked the way the sun came through the blinds and cast thin rays of soft light on his orange hair. I tilted my head as a thought struck me. Nate was definitely my first ginger. I had never really met one that was my type. I wonder if Nate has ever been with anyone like me before.

"So... I gotta ask." I grab a pair of leggings Nate had laid out for me on the edge of the bed and turn away from him to ask my question. "How many people have you been with? Apart from me?" I focused my gaze on unfolding my leggings and getting them on, avoiding looking at Nate's face when he lied. Men always felt the need to lie about this kind of thing. I really was mostly just curious. I wasn't jealous of people before me, but I did like to see what kinds of numbers people, especially shifters, have racked up. And Nate is... well Nate is really fucking hot. There's no way his number isn't at least in the twenties. He travels a lot too. He might have me beat.

I finally realize that Nate has gone quiet.

"Damn, that bad, huh?" I laugh, as I turn around to watch his face. He looks panicked, that's for sure. I look away again, grabbing my sweatshirt off the bed and tugging it on. "You don't have to lie or feel embarrassed. I'm not asking to judge you, I'm just... curious. Pinky swear." I take a step towards him, holding out my pinky. He rolls his eyes but locks fingers with me, staring me in the eyes the entire time.

"Why don't you guess first?" I roll my eyes and step back, crossing my arms and watching him put his room back in order.

"Uhm... fifteen." He burst out laughing, shaking his head.

"No, not even close."

"Damn... thirty?" He shakes his head again, throwing my clothes in a laundry bin tucked in the corner of the room.

"You're going the wrong way."

"Oh... okay, ten?" Another shake. "Five?" No again. "...Two?"

He stops what he's doing then, just staring at me with that look of his.

"Cleo... that night in the hotel with you? That was my first time." I blink, trying to process what he was saying.

"You mean like... in a while... or?" He shrugs. "Aren't you like... sixty?" He nods, taking a step towards me.

"I have never even kissed another woman, Cleo. Apart from my brief meeting with Amara, I have never looked at another woman in the way I have looked at you, I have never held another woman's hand. I have always known I would find you one day, Cleo. And I knew you would be worth the wait. No one else was even worth the trouble."