Mated but not Tamed

Chapter 5 - Like Me

Magnolia

I wake to the sun streaming in through an open wall of windows. The breeze cool and refreshing. It tickles my fur, sending the need to stretch out my achy legs through my body.

I take in my surrounds, pushing my head up. I'm still shifted, not surprisingly. What is surprising is my location. I'm laying on a bed of a thousand pillows, cocooned by a plush thick comforter.

I flop back down, not caring where I am as long as I never have to leave this bed. I'm a little shocked at my lack of panic. I should be screaming, trying to find my escape and never look back.

But that feels wrong. I've never felt good about anything, so I'm not gonna ruin it by panicking. I nuzzle the soft blanket surrounding me, a familiar smell wafting through me. Campfire.

That brings me back out of my daze. Chocolate brown fur, burning hazel eyes. Soft woody burning smell. This must Mr. Campfires room. But how did I get here.

I shimmy a little, getting a better look around. The room is big. Like bigger than my living room and kitchen combined.

That house was a shit box, so that's not really saying much but...

My thoughts are cut short when voices start popping up. Hushed ones, right outside the two double doors. Huge wood doors stained almost black, a contrast to the only other two white doors in the room.

The one on the other side of the room is closed, making me think it must be a closet. The door directly to my left open almost all the way, seeing inside a bathroom that makes my jaw drops.

I snap back to the double doors when they slowly press open. In comes three men, three very large men. Three very handsome large men.

They all face me. I push down, hiding my face behind the blankets.

One of them chuckles, but I can't see who. There talking to each other, hushed whispers, and mumbling. I can barely make out what there saying.

I peak over, carful not to move to fast. Looking each one over before moving on to the next.

The one to the left tall, maybe 6'3, 6'4. His black t-shirt tight against his chest and arms, black in sneaking up his neck and the rest showing down his arm. He has dark brown hair, bright green eyes, and a stubble.

The texture looks rough, like it would tingle to touch. His stature lean, but strong. Obvious muscle prominent on every inch of him.

The one to the right a little shorter, younger too if I'm guessing right. He has short dirty blond hair, piercing blue eyes. His sweatpants cling around his small waist, that stretches up unto broad muscular shoulders. His long white sleeve doing nothing to hide the toned muscle underneath.

They keep talking while I peruse them.

My eyes land on the one standing in the middle, our gazes' lock. His eyes. Their different like mine.

One the colour of the perfect storm, blue and grey swirling together. The other brown and green. Reminding me of the forest before fall.

Their beautiful.

He doesn't look away, but that doesn't stop me from breaking it. Its hard to look away, his eyes a comforting kind of realization.

One of the first times my stepfather beat me was because of my appearance. He said my eyes gross him out. Make him feel like an alien is looking at him. He hit me so hard my eyes were swollen for a full week before I could see again.

The memory contorting my face, causing me to be ashamed of myself. How can they be so beautiful on this man, but make me look so hideous.

I hesitate before I look up again.