How come my mate is now a married man?

Only fate knows. Maybe the circumstances are to blame, or maybe I just should've been more persistent. But it's hard when you're not the punchy type. I've never been the kind of person who steps over others to get what I want.

I'm a werewolf, despite both of my parents being human. My maternal grandfather was a werewolf too. On my father's side, both grandparents were human.

There are many legends about how werewolves came to be. From a scientific perspective, a specific gene was discovered relatively recently-one that a small percentage of the population carries. Those who have it are werewolves. But sometimes the gene lies dormant and never manifests. These individuals are considered mostly human, though technically they're latent werewolves.

A latent werewolf can go their whole life without ever realizing it-unless they go through their first transformation or take a special test, which happens to be quite expensive.

The first transformation usually happens around the age of 18 or 19-very rarely later-but always on a full moon.

No one can predict the exact full moon that will trigger it, so people have started calling the year between 18 and 19 "Year X."

My she-wolf awakened on the second full moon after my eighteenth birthday. Was I happy about it? Not at all. Even though I had my suspicions, I tried to push them away. In vain. I looked far too much like my werewolf grandfather.

Not the wrinkles or gray hair, of course. But in his youth-and even in old age-he was impressive. Tall, brown-haired, with piercing light gray eyes, strong, well-built, the life of the party. Every woman's dream.

Back in the day, women swooned over him, but he loved only one: my grandmother, Marie. She was his true mate.

Sadly, she passed away a few years ago. Grandpa remembers her with sorrow and endless tenderness-she was his spark, his heart. After her death, something in him faded. Even outwardly, he aged dramatically in just a few years. He seemed to burn out from within.

And that's saying something, considering he's a werewolf-with health, endurance, and vitality far beyond the human norm.

He loved her deeply. A mate is a powerful, lifelong bond. They fell for each other instantly.

But Marie's parents didn't approve of Grandpa as her fiancé. This was shortly after the Day of Tolerance, when the werewolf gene was officially discovered and recognized. It was a huge scientific breakthrough at the time.

Werewolves came out of hiding and declared their existence-and society accepted and legally recognized them.

Turns out, there were more of us than anyone thought; many had simply been hiding their heritage.

But legal recognition is one thing-real acceptance in everyday life is another. Many people feared, and still fear, werewolves-our strength, our abilities.

Marie's parents were among those people. Conservative and image-obsessed, they couldn't accept that their only daughter would marry a "dog" (as Grandpa said they called him). They feared judgment from their snobbish social circle.

Eventually, they disowned Marie, didn't even attend her wedding. Later, they sent a letter making it painfully clear-they no longer had a daughter.

Despite it all, my grandparents lived a long and happy life-defiant and proud.

Now Grandpa is 84. He's still strong for his age, though the spark in his eyes dimmed after Grandma Marie passed.

Being a werewolf comes with its perks: strength, excellent health, and rapid regeneration.

I, on the other hand, am calm and quiet. It's embarrassingly easy to throw me off. Sometimes I hate my own personality. I can't even speak up or defend myself when needed. Definitely not like Grandpa.

Being a werewolf has drawn some attention-thankfully, not too much-but it's not the kind I want.

I live in a place where there aren't many werewolves, and people here treat us... differently.

Calling it "racism" might sound too harsh, but it's not far off. People like me aren't exactly welcome, and they make sure I know it.

Although, there are places where werewolves are admired-even idolized.

We lived in our own house in a village about 40 minutes from the city, near a river.

There was a rotten old bridge across the river. On the far side, fields stretched for miles until the nature reserve forest began.

Among those fields, near the forest, was another small settlement-smaller than ours, but filled with beautiful mansions and farms.

That's where Grandpa lived.

Behind our house was a lovely orchard planted by my father, and nearby was a small garden where my mom grew vegetables.

We didn't need to grow food-my parents had stable, well-paying jobs-but Mom loved working the land. It was her outlet, her stress relief.

Some people turn to alcohol in hard times, others call up friends. My mom heads straight to her garden.

She says a heart-to-heart with a tomato bush does more for her than any group of friends ever could. A true introvert.

My first transformation happened at night, in my room. The day had been completely normal-nothing to suggest what was coming.

But that night, I woke up drenched in sweat, wracked with pain and burning up.

It started deep in my chest and spread outward in waves. It was pure agony-I couldn't make sense of anything.

My bones cracked loudly, my skin itched, stretched, and furred, and my muscles clenched in brutal spasms. It was hell. And I was terrified.

My arms and legs wouldn't respond to me. I felt like I wasn't fully in control of my own body... but I also felt HER.

My she-wolf. She had awakened and was making herself known, though she hadn't taken over completely.

We were both afraid. For both of us, this was the first time.

And yet... through it all, we felt a strange power. A bond. A connection we had never known before.

Because of my total lack of control and the overwhelming panic that gripped me, my room turned into pure chaos.

Shredded bedsheets, torn pajamas-my claws had ripped through everything. The mirror was smashed, things were strewn all over the place, and somehow I had even trampled my favorite ficus tree.

I don't even remember how I did it, but I broke down the door-my paws, my muzzle-and bolted outside, running blindly, my heart pounding in my chest. I didn't know where I was going. I just needed to hide, to get away, to survive this... nightmare.

I was terrified-terrified of what I'd become, terrified of what I might do. My parents are human. And my little sister... she's human too. At least, for now.

There are stories-horrible stories-about first transformations going wrong. Werewolves injuring themselves, losing control, hurting loved ones. And sure, we heal fast, almost instantly-but humans don't. If I ever hurt my family... I wouldn't survive the guilt. I couldn't live with myself.

So I ran. I ran from the house, across the creaky old bridge by the river, through the endless fields, until the shadows of the forest wrapped around me like a cloak.

Our forest-dense, wild, untouched. People never ventured far into it. They were too afraid. Good. That meant I could disappear for a while.

I dove deep into the forest, branches slapping my face, underbrush clawing at my legs.

Eventually, I stumbled into a clearing bathed in silver moonlight, my chest heaving, lungs burning. I dropped to the ground, trying to catch my breath.

It was quiet. Peaceful. Too peaceful.

But only for a moment.

Then came the noise-loud, intense, and all around me. The rustling of leaves became a roar. The creak of trees echoed like thunder.

Even the stream nearby-its gentle babbling now sounded like a waterfall crashing through my skull.

Every sound in the forest felt like it had been turned up to full volume.

It was deafening. Overwhelming. I clutched my ears with my paws, crouched low, trembling, heart slamming against my ribs like a trapped bird.

And then... a voice.

Soft. Gentle. Feminine. But with a power that stilled everything inside me.

"Hey, breathe. Focus on your breathing. Don't panic. Let the sounds pass through you. Listen only to your breath."

I listened.

My breath was sharp, ragged, but I held onto it like a lifeline.

Inhale. Exhale. Once.

Inhale. Exhale. Twice.

By the time I reached ten, the world had quieted, as if someone had turned the volume down.

And just like that... I could think again.

I opened my eyes, removed my paws from my ears, and looked up.

In the heart of the clearing stood a red she-wolf, watching me with piercing blue eyes. The moonlight kissed her fur, making it shimmer like gold with every breeze.

She looked... magical. Untouchable.

"So beautiful," I thought.

And then-she answered.

"Oh, thank you! You're not so bad yourself," she said, and laughed-an actual laugh, bright and playful.

It hit me then. Telepathy. Grandpa had told me about it-how werewolves could speak to each other in wolf form, mind to mind.

I'd always brushed it off. Until now.

She stepped closer, slowly, carefully. Something about her felt familiar, especially her eyes-so blue, like the sky after a storm.

"Your first time?" she asked.

I nodded, feeling clumsy and awkward.

"Thought so. I'm Elizabeth, or Eli. What's your name?"

"Dana."

"Nice to meet you, Dana. Deep breaths. No more panicking. Focus on a single sound and ground yourself."

I obeyed. I found the stream again-not crashing, just flowing. Then the whisper of the leaves. Far in the distance-dogs barking from the village. Then-a faint crackle of twigs nearby.

Eli's ears twitched.

"Listen," she said.

I did.

Tiny footsteps. A quick heartbeat. A soft, panicked breath.

Something small was running through the underbrush, fleeing.

"A hedgehog?" I blinked. "Where's he rushing off to?"

"You're adorable," Eli chuckled. "Right now, we're the scariest things in this forest. He knows it. Want to blow your mind?"

I nodded.

"Then listen... with your nose."

I inhaled deeply-and the world exploded again. But this time, in scent.

I smelled everything. Wet earth. Fresh water. Wildflowers. Pine needles. The wind. Animals.

And-wait. A scent I knew. Warm. Safe. Familiar. Grandpa.

I turned, leapt onto a rock, and there he was-emerging from the trees, his massive dark-gray wolf form unmistakable.

"There you are, pup!" he said with relief. "Your parents are going crazy. How are you feeling?"

He stopped beside us, tail flicking, then gave Eli a knowing nod.

"I see you've met Elizabeth."

"I'm okay now," I said quietly, shame washing over me.

"I just... didn't want to hurt anyone. I feel strange. Like I'm not me anymore. Like I'm someone else. It's scary."

"That's normal, sweetheart. You'll learn. You'll grow into your wolf. I remember my first shift-I ended up in the chicken coop. Scared the feathers off them. Literally. Smashed half of it. My mother was furious."

He laughed-soft, nostalgic.

"It's been almost a hundred years since then. You scared me good tonight. Had to sniff half the valley to find you. Haven't done that in decades. It felt... kinda nice, actually. Brought back memories."

Then, with a wolfish grin:

"Anyway, time to head home. My place is closer, and your parents are waiting. But let's shift back later-I don't want you traumatized by the sight of your grandfather's glorious naked butt."

He barked a laugh and trotted ahead. Eli and I exchanged a look-and followed without hesitation. Eli lived just two streets from Grandpa's farm.

As we arrived, I caught a glimpse of myself in the hallway mirror. Staring back at me was a sleek, black she-wolf with stormy gray eyes.

Just like Grandpa's. Genes don't lie.

Surprisingly, shifting back into my human form wasn't as painful.

The aches lingered, like a full-body flu. But it was bearable.

A hot bath-Eli's suggestion-worked wonders.

And finally, as the water soothed my aching muscles, I felt something I hadn't felt since the shift began...

Peace.

Returning home the next day, I couldn't escape the sidelong glances from our neighbors.

And as if that wasn't enough, when I called my childhood friend Dominica to tell her what happened, she flat-out said she didn't really want to talk to me anymore. Those "friends forever" who used to sit side by side on the garden pots... gone.

At home, my worried parents and little sister Mia were waiting for me.

"Daughter! Finally! We were so scared!" my mother exclaimed, pulling me into a tight hug.

"How do you feel? Are you okay? We were terrified. Thank goodness grandfather helped find you," I could see the genuine worry and exhaustion in her eyes.

"Mom, I'm fine now. Honestly, I was scared too," I admitted.

"I just didn't want to hurt you all, so I ran away. Please forgive me."

Noticing her nervous energy, I quickly added, "I'm better now. Everything went more or less smoothly, though my muscles really ache. Let's have some tea to calm down."

She sighed deeply and headed to the kitchen to prepare tea, while my dad, Mia, and I stayed in the hall.

"Dad, on a scale from one to ten, how worried was Mom?" I asked quietly.

He smiled wryly. "She uprooted half the garden before dawn. But she calmed down. You know, Mom's best therapist is a hoe."

During our family tea, it was decided I would stay with my grandfather for a while - until I grew closer to my animal side and learned to control myself better. It would be safer for everyone that way. Plus, Grandpa could always advise me if any problems with my werewolf nature popped up.

After that, the conversation drifted to lighter topics, and the evening ended peacefully.

When I finally went upstairs, I was surprised to find my room tidy.

But then again, Mom must have done her best - she even nursed my ficus back to health. No doubt, she has a real talent with plants.

Approaching the mirror, I searched for any visible changes.

My brown, slightly curly hair still fell below my shoulder blades. My nose was neat, lips a little full, and my eyes light gray. No bruises, no stray fur anywhere.

Good. No extra "vegetation."

Just as I was about to sink into sleep, a soft knock came at the door.

"Sis, can I lie down with you for a while?" Mia's quiet voice asked.

"Sure, come in," I smiled. She quickly crawled into bed and pulled the blanket over herself.

"Danka, how is it? Do you have superpowers now? Can you talk telepathically? What does your she-wolf look like? Did you see her? Did you howl at the moon?" Mia's questions came like a flood.

"Whoa, slow down, Cucumber!" I laughed.

"Let me explain. It feels... strange, but amazing. I can feel my wolf inside me. She reminds me of you - curious, admiring the world, always studying everything new. She looks a lot like Grandpa's wolf - black and beautiful."

At the word "beautiful," I felt my she-wolf growl softly inside me.

"I can only talk telepathically in wolf form with other werewolves. And as for howling at the moon... Mia, where did you get that idea? Werewolves don't really do that - at least, I didn't feel like it."

"I'm so jealous! I want to be a werewolf too! Now you can find your true mate on your own. How romantic!" Mia sighed dreamily, eyes sparkling with admiration.

If only she knew how much I loved this little firecracker.

Though she's not really a baby anymore - eleven years old now, green-eyed and blonde, destined to steal many hearts. But to me, she'll always be my little Cucumber.

She got the nickname because, as a toddler, she loved cucumbers and was always nibbling on them.

"Well, speaking of sniffing, I heard you were using my perfume again. Since when did you start caring about romance?"

"Fell in love, or what?" I teased.

Mia rolled her eyes, pretending to be offended.

"I'm not in love! I just found a book about werewolves in love - it's so exciting and romantic! They went through so much and found their way back to each other. They could even heal each other! I wish I could do that someday."

These days, werewolf romance books are everywhere, painting breathtaking tales of unearthly love.

But in reality, not everyone finds their true mate. Many marriages are out of convenience, or just happen to be with the wrong person.

The only true story I know is Grandpa and Grandma - they truly found each other.

I haven't really looked into it deeper, hoping the werewolf troubles wouldn't touch me.

I kept these thoughts from Mia - no point ruining her innocence. Girls should dream.

"Well, we'll see when you turn eighteen. Only six and a half years to wait," I smiled at her fragile enthusiasm.

"Yes! Will you show me your she-wolf then? I want to see her so badly!"

Her bright eyes made it impossible to say no.

"I will. But first, we'll learn self-control - just in case. Then I'll introduce you. I think she likes you too, but it's better not to meet yet. I'd never forgive myself if I hurt you or anyone else," I said sincerely.

"Okay, I'll wait."

"It's late now. Let's go to bed quickly, or I might bite you!" I laughed, pinching her side.

Mia giggled and ran out of the room.

"Good night, Cucumber!"

"I'm not Cucumber! Good night!" she called back.

I fell asleep with a smile.

---

In the following days, I moved to live with my grandfather. Unlike our village, there were more werewolves in his, and people were more accepting. I later found out that Elizabeth's family was also a werewolf family.

Speaking of Elizabeth - we became close friends. She's kind but straightforward, very different from me.

The red-haired beauty came from a wealthy, ancient werewolf lineage.

Her parents were strict and didn't approve of Eli's friendships with humans. But since I was already a werewolf, they strangely welcomed me. Our friendship was left undisturbed.

Grandpa had a dozen or so workers on his farm. I helped him during the day, and practiced transformations in the evenings.

Each time, the change was less painful - a relief.

Eli and I often ran through the forest chasing animals. We didn't hunt them, just enjoyed the thrill of the chase.

Well, everyone has their own way of having fun.