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So, I continue to fight the urge to shift under the light of the full moon.
I don’t care how much it hurts. I can’t let him out. I can’t give him control.
“Mr. Warren!” An angry voice captures my attention, distracting me from the pain.
I turn, and blink awake, to see the face of my droning teacher staring down at me from the side of my desk. He gives me a despairing look, and I wipe at the drool from my mouth as I sit up.
“Is my class disturbing your nap?” he asks.
I bite back the urge to tell him it only sent me into my coma. I give him a wry smile instead.
“Sorry, I’m awake now.” And I’d better try to stay that way.
He shakes his head at me as he walks back to the front of the room. Some of my classmates are snickering, big surprise.
I’m still trying to shake off the dream when I notice the nails on my left hand have become claws.
I did actually start to shift. Fuck me.
I pull the change back until I’m completely human.
My hand trembles as I stare at it. I can’t let this happen again.
No shifting. No partial shifting. Nothing.
I can’t let my wolf get any kind of foothold. I’ll do whatever it takes to push him back under and keep him from surfacing.
Chapter Six
Oscar
Istandoutsideatlunch, letting the cool winter air wake me up. I know Cheryl will be with Vi and Ivy in the campus self-serve restaurant, but my usual urge to join them comes and goes quickly.
Cheryl’s not like Everett. She notices when something’s wrong, and she doesn’t let it drop.
I can’t let her see me like this. I’m rattled. Over a stupid fucking dream.
I need a cigarette so damn badly right now. I know it would calm my nerves.
I watch a few Betas smoking by the gates, and it takes every ounce of my willpower to stay put by the doors of the building. I can see myself going over there and asking for one. They know who I am. They know who I belong to. They wouldn’t say no.
“I don’t need to smell like a chimney stack when Cheryl’s giving me one-on-one time tonight,” I murmur to myself, wondering if saying the words out loud makes any difference.
My mate has no idea how much the thought of disappointing her motivates me.
That’s all it takes for me to resist falling back on one of my biggest addictions.
A stab of guilt hits when I think of how close I’ve been coming to falling back on the other.
I touch my chest, where my filled flask sits just over my heart.
I haven’t needed the flask as an anchor since Cheryl’s been around, and quitting booze helped me shelf it for good. At least I thought it was for good.
I had a few back-slides when I first started to quit, and it really hasn’t been long, but still…
Cheryl’s my anchor now, she’s the sun my world revolves around.
I can’t ruin that by falling back into old habits.
