AN/ Here you go!! :D
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Working in the hospital, I faced death more than ordinary werewolves or humans would.
Death. A concept that frightened the most. A concept understood by few.
To me, death was the beep of the heart signal that stopped. The heartbeatâs line in a cardiogram monitor flared. A brain vein that exploded. A tumour that returned more malignant than ever.
To me, death was watching the world of a mother and father crumble down, piece by piece, after receiving the dark news... News received from me or my colleagues, as if we were personal messengers of death itself.
To me, death was also a doctor who made a fatal mistake.
I figured that we, mere mortals, had never really thought about the concept of death until its radar decided to target one of our loved ones.
Death and my family walked side by side, arm in arm, since the birth of my little brother. It was a constant fight between us and death. Between the progress of medicine and the unknown. Between hope and failure.
As I stared at the door of Ianâs bedroom, I took a deep breath to ease the guilt.
Since I had arrived at my parentsâ house, two days ago, I had not yet had the courage to visit him. I had always postponed, like the coward excuse maker I was.
And then, the evening before returning to campus, here I was, with my hand resting on the doorknob.
Uncertain and weak.
I could hear a stable heartbeat and regular breaths.
Ian, a ball of perky energy, was forced to bed most of the time, wasting years of childhood, one after another.
When I finally convinced myself to open the door, careful not to make any noise, I saw the little werewolf sleeping soundly. His small body covered by a thin sheet was in the same red car-shaped bed, in the same colourful room, with drawings and pictures hanging on the wall, with little-used toys in the baskets. And it was at that moment that the taps of my eyes were turned on. I began to cry like a weak soul.
Tears of rage, against the injustices of the world. Tears of frustration because I loved him so much. Tears of anguish, for those years we would not share together. So many memories where Ian will not be part of.
Ian could not see me like that. He would eventually smell my scent and wake up from his peaceful sleep. From a world of dreams. That piece of land that allowed him to escape for a while from a painful reality.
I rushed out, closing the door behind me.
Worst sister of the year.
I sunk to the floor and leaned my head against the wall.
My arms wrapped around my knees, as if a self-hug could comfort me.
The setting sun cast deep shadows over the decorations of our gods in the ceiling. It was getting late. My father and I had arranged to run again in the woods before he took me back to campus.
And I sat there for a long time, letting myself be drawn into blue sadness.
In that same corridor filled with childhood memories. Smaller versions of Lachlan and I, sprinting down the hall. Our Dad who scolded us countless times for breaking or dirtying something, Mom who gave us high five behind him.
The phone rang in my pocket but I ignored it, determined to remain in my gloomy thoughts.
It was probably Tiziano or Makena, wondering about my whereabouts. Probably they wanted to organize a roommatesâ dinner or a movie night, in our perfect little ecosystem.
I had shut down the mind link with everyone, even my wolf. High walls fortified my mind.
The phone rang again. And then again.
In a trance, I stared for a few seconds at an unknown number that lit up the screen, with my vision blurred.
I didnât feel like talking to anyone, yet I replied.
âH-hello?â I sniffed. Closing my eyes, I leaned my head back against the door, realizing that Ian was still asleep.
âHello there, witch! I recommend you fasten your seat belts because my revenge is-â The cheerful voice that gave my heart hard time and palpitations, stopped when I sniffed again.
âAre you crying?â Rudolph asked cautiously.
I marvelled at how my body and mind relaxed.
âNot anymore. You have interrupted me,â I said as I ran a hand over my tear-stained cheeks.
I expected him to make fun of me, I could almost hear his sarcastic comments.
Oddly, he didnât.
âWhat made you sad?â The genuine concern laced in his voice surprised me.
âNothing ...â I trailed off, pondering what to answer to this perfect stranger.
âIf itâs about the messages, donât worry,â He sighed, âIâll remove your name, but come on, donât cry.â
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Third POV
On the other line, the so-called Rudolph, who did not look at all like Santaâs tiny, skinny reindeer as his nickname might suggest, felt something break when the unknown girl cry.
Running a hand through his blonde locks, the werewolf paced back and forth. His size was not meant for that tiny space heâd holed up in to call the girl... To inform her of his brilliant revenge in progress.
âRudolphâ had to admit that this Yvaine girl and her idiot friend had a fine imagination. That prank they came up with had caused great irritation. He still got messages from those creepy, old men looking for a submissive to dominate.
Ultra-competitive, Rudolph was a werewolf who never lost. Whether to win a girl or a match. Victory was in his blood, no matter the consequences.
And the girl with the most angelic voice had thrown the gauntlet.
âRudolphâ was an annoyingly intelligent werewolf with a brusque sense of humour and no inhibitions. There was practically nothing that could embarrass him. He solved every problem with a confident smirk or brush it off with a shrug. Some may say his personality was intense. Others may find him arrogant.
Nobody, however, would dare to contradict him, let alone challenge him.
Since that night she texted him, he ha felt excited, challenged, and speechless for the very first time. This female may be special, perhaps different, somehow. Rudolph did not want to give it too much importance, nor he had time for it.
But when he heard her cry...
âExcuse me, what messages are you talking about?â Yvaine asked from the other line.
âWhat? Did I say âmessagesâ? You did not hear me,â Rudolph promptly contradicted.
I had no strength for verbal arguments; it felt as if an alien worm was sucking all my energy out.
âBut tell me, why are you crying if it were not for the mess-um.â He cleared his throat.
I heaved out a shaky sigh, âItâs just that sometimes too much injustice gets thrown in our way. I donât want to accept it, but I have no choice but to, and that kills me.â I rubbed my hand over my face, finding tears of anger, âI keep telling myself that I always have the power to change, to fix, but sometimes I just donât. And I hate that I canât do anything about it.â
No words came from the usually perky wolf. Only deep, steady breaths.
âYou know,â When he spoke, his voice sounded as firm as his confidence, âOne lesson I have learned over the years and I try to apply to my daily life is that we often have no control. So I let life happen, without getting caught up in what is beyond my reach.â He paused as I pondered the meaning behind his words. âAnd sometimes itâs okay to accept defeat and acknowledge pain. It is part of the game of life. Same with all other emotions, both good and bad....â He trailed off, âIn the end, we always learn something from them.â
âBut I hate not having control. Iâm a control freak!â I proclaimed as my hand had involuntarily began to play and twirl the hem of the carpet.
He chuckled in that deep tune of his, âWell, we may not have control from time to time, but we can always control how we react to uncontrollable events.â
âHow?â My voice piqued with curiosity.
âI go for a run, I call a girl,â Rudolph said casually as I huffed, shaking my head, âI hang out with my people. Familiarity is comforting.â
âWow, Rudy, I did not know you were such a philosopher!â I teased after taking few seconds to absorb the truth behind his talk.
Rudolph swore under his breath, âPeople had called me many names, but never a philosopher.â
Some heartbeats passed in silence.
âWhat made you feel this way today?â He asked eventually, âDid something specific happened?â
My heart dropped to the hard floor. As hard as his question.
âItâs myââsniffââmy little brother. Heâs terribly sick.â
And so I began talking about Ian, sharing such a painful baggage with Rudolph. There was something about opening up to a complete stranger who had no idea who I was or my life story. It allowed a rare freedom of speech and no filters.
Rudolph, in return, listened to me then distracted me from something I had zero control over. Death.
However, he never admitted what his revenge against me had been.
âYou are lucky Iâm such a forgiving person.â At one point he said cheekily, âYou would not have survived the embarrassment. Trust me.â
I smiled, wiping some tears off my flushed face.
âWas it a smile I heard?â He asked with pride.
I shook my head but could not restrain another smile, âYou canât hear smiles.â
âI can. Itâs one of my many talents.â
âYeah, together with humility.â I said with an undertone full of sarcasm.
He barked out a laugh, âHey, Iâm just honest. I donât sugar-coat.â
Before I could formulate a response, Rudolph changed topic, âYou never told me what you do for living apart from being an active nun in the church.â There was genuine curiosity, regardless the rudeness.
âWhatâs wrong with being a nun? And no, Iâm studying to become a neurologist. What about you?â
Without stop smiling, I stood up from my spot on the door and walked to my old bedroom. Ian was still sleeping.
âSo, you are an actual doctor??â He asked surprised.
âNo, Iâm only a doctor in the fantasy world I have created in my headâ I replied with a smirk.
âAh-ah. Funny. But I donât have the guarantee that you arenât a crazy girl that really believes is a doctor when in reality is just a stalker.â
I burst out laughing at his reasoning. Rudolph was brisk and somehow intelligent, there was much more than what I had judged at the beginning.
âFuck off, manâ He growled all of a sudden, stealing a gasp from me.
âHey! Donât say that!â
âSorryâ He muttered as I heard some chuckles on the background, âMy idiotic friends are here. Give me sec.â
A mix of curses, groans and muffled sounds followed.
âHello againâ He whispered and I chuckled.
With that, we restored the chat.
âIâll take over the business of my father one day, but until then I spend most of my time playing wereball or hanging out with my friends... or the ladies, of course.â He joked, although somehow it did not sound funny.
I scoffed, rolling my eyes, âOf course, you do. Of all the hobbies you could invest your time with!â
âAre you jealous?â He sounded happy.
âWhy would I be jealous of a STDâs container such as yourself?â
âOuch! Donât you know your sharp tongue is hurting my heart? Arenât you supposed to know that? I donât think you are a good doctor.â
We traded cheeky insults for a while, with âRudolphâ making fun of me, while I was getting more and more annoyed, but the funny kind of annoyance.
âRudolph?â I called at some point, in a low voice.
âMhm?â
I gulped, playing with my fingers.
âIâm sorry I made up that profile with your number,â I admitted, blushing at his deep chuckle.
âItâs ok. It was an innovative way to get my attention, smart bunny.â
I rolled my eyes, ready to retort, âNaa, the truth is that you suffer from a grave form of male silliness and were in desperate need of a lesson.â I paused, enjoying the sound of his laughter. âIs this person never offended by anything?â âBut hang in there until we find a cure for your situation.â I added.
He scoffed, protesting in an arrogant way, still managing to make me laugh .
In the end, we remained silent for a few seconds. I smiled, looking at my phone as if expecting him appear.
âWhat is your real name?â I asked out of the blue. âI would like to know the person who knows so much about me.â
He did not respond so she continued.
âYou know Iâm not a stalker nor a crazy girl interested in you. So why donât you just tell me?â I insisted, biting my lips. âOr are you afraid that I will judge you because you are a smelly loser? Iâm sure I donât know you anyway!â
Dark Diamond is a massive pack, with over ten thousand people. And it is quite far away from Comet. I only knew the names of the most eminent wereball players.
The Terminator, of course, whose name is Logan, with his goonies, Liam and Callum, known as the fearsome twins and sons of the Gamma. Then there is Bellatrix, sister of the Terminator and captain of the female wereball team.
There was uncertainty in his breaths, and I could not understand why. After what seemed like forever a response came. âMy name is Lucien" He finally admitted with a firm voice.
âOh... Okâ I tilted my head to the side, puzzled.
He actually told me his name and it didnât ring any bells, as expected.
Apart from the wereball players, I had heard of some more names of random Dark Diamondâs werewolves; perhaps some with whom Makena had hooked up, or Tiziano had insulted.
But Lucien was not one of them.
âNice name! But I will stick to Rudolph.â
He growled playfully and I laughed before a question pushed its way to my tongue.
âDo you think we could , um, maybe stay in touch?â I asked, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt.
âNot as friends friends. But I kind of like chatting with you...â A blush appeared on my cheeks, âJust once in a while, jeez I couldnât survive your pervert jokes every day and-â but he cut my rants off.
âSure, Bunny Doc. Iâd like to stay in touch.â
AN/ Lucien!! Do you like the name? ;)
Next update on Sunday!
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Fun fact: The name Bellatrix is a girlâs name of Latin origin meaning âfemale warriorâ. Bellatrix is also one of the stars in the Orion constellation, and it combines the names Bella and Beatrix.