Furry Humans | ✓

side story - Mason

I'm hurting her.

I'm hurting the one person that truly cares for me. I can feel it. That small sliver of aching pain in my heart travels through my body like it's my own and it only grows stronger the farther my feet take me away, a couple paces away I lean against the base of a tree, my vision blurring and my emotions clogging my throat.

"I hate you!"

Her voice echoes and bounces off the walls in my head, my heart dropping to the pit of my stomach. I did that. I made her hate me. An intense emotion boils over, causing my hands to shake and for the beast in me to rampage in my skull; growling and snarling. I grit my teeth together my body heating up, soon enough, I take off deeper into the woods farther away from where she resided before the beast bursts from beneath my skin in a ball of burning fire. My bones pop and rearrange and my muscles stretch to accommodate the change, my legs reverting into hinds and my body dropping to the ground, not long after I'm weaving through the trees on four legs.

I tear at shrubs, claw at the roots of trees and everything in my path, this was anger toward myself, my decision and how I'm acting. I don't deserve her as she said, she's been waiting two years for me to stop wallowing in my disbelief and heartache and finally take that next step. I'm pathetic. We run until day gives into night, blanketing the woods black, without realizing it the beast takes me on a familiar route, giving me the reins of control as we trot to the back of a familiar house.

I barely made it when the sound of the front door slamming shut is heard. The lights from the living room illuminate shadows and colors from the open curtains.

"Samantha, honey?" a woman calls out, my ears twitch to catch every word.

Feet stump against the floorboard, soon, her short frame passing the window without a glance my way, not that I expected her to.

"Not now, Mom," I hear her whisper with a hoarse voice.

I can tell she's been crying from the tone of her voice, all the screaming she's done. I hear her bound up the steps, wisps of her hair flowing behind her from the open curtains, the sound of her footfalls disappearing down the hall and into her bedroom where the sound of the lock is heard: echoing in the hollow space of my mind. Samantha's mother pauses at the bottom of the steps, knowing she heard the sound of the door locking, halting any of her advances.

"Gabriel," she sighs when her mate comes up from behind her, "It's really tearing her apart."

"I know," Samantha's father sighs, placing his hands on his mate's shoulder, rubbing away the tension, "I know."

"He's really hurting her," the Mom whispers, still staring up at the stairs. "I wish I could do something. . ."

The father shakes his head, "This is between the both of them. They'll solve it and hopefully, he'll come to his senses."

Just then he turns his head to look out the window, his gaze immediately seeking me out, as he stares me down. The brown in his eyes darken with the presence of his wolf to protect its pup from any danger it deems to classify as, even the heartache of his pup's own mate. I flinch away from his gaze, frowning down at myself as I take a step back, my hind foot sinking into the snow.

His eyes spoke what his mouth couldn't and if it was up to him, I wouldn't be in the picture and his daughter wouldn't be in such pain that I'm causing her, but he has no choice but to step back and let his pup handle things on her own knowing there's nothing he can do. We stare at one another for a while longer before I move back, into the shadows the trees shaped.

I cast one last lingering glance at Samantha's window, the lights shut off but the very sound of her crying letting me know that she was much awake. I turn around, my back to the house and dart into the woods on all fours.