Trinity and Zander haven't moved from their position, except for him to put on clothes, and I look away, giving them some privacy. Bash is explaining the meaning of mates, and although I'm supposed to be listening, I keep getting distracted by the two.

"A mate to a werewolf is like the other half of themselves. Without their mate, they aren't complete," he says. We're sitting on the couch while he explains.

"So," I start, glancing uneasily at the new found mates," it's not like in the wild?"

He cockes his head to the side, revealing his tan neck," What do you mean?"

I gulp. He wants me to say it out loud?

Blushing, I look down at my lap, clasping my sweaty hands together. I peek up at him through my eyelashes. He's still staring, his eyes like passageways to his whole being. I can see inside of him, what he's thinking, and it scares me. Usually, he's so guarded.

"I uh.... Well, it's like when... you know," I drop my voice to a whisper, still awkwardly staring at my hands," when animals... have kids."

Smooth Danielle, just smooth.

"Oh, you mean sex?" he says without flinching. I nod sullenly.

"Well, yeah. There's some of that. Mates can't go very long without being mated, its just not normal. Usually, once you find your mate, they mark you."

I shudder," Mark?"

"That's pretty much the only thing that's not like the wild. We males have to mark our mates, probably because of our dominating problem. It's like claiming our territory, but we bite the skin right here," he brushes his fingers softly against the skin of my exposed collar bone. The breath catches in my throat, and I try not to show my pleasure at his touch.

"So," my voice is barely audible," you have to bite your mate? That's stupid. Doesn't that hurt them?"

Slowly removing his hand from my skin, he shakes his head. Roaming his eyes all over my sitting form, I blush under his intense gaze. I'm suddenly thinking about his smell. Why a man's smell is so captivating, my eighteen year old self does not know. He has a different scent then I would have imagined for an Alpha werewolf, but it fits him perfectly. The sweet smell of freshly cut wood has me reeling. I realize I'm being spoken to.

"Hmm?"

"Am I distracting you?"

"What?" I ask, still coming out of my daze.

"Am I distracting you?"

He has a knowing smirk on his face, making me blush even deeper. Was I just checking him out? Please say I wasn't. Oh Shit, I was!

"I uh... go on."

Clearing my face of any emotion, I sit up straighter, taking care not to let my eyes wander.

"Every werewolf has a mate. We don't pick them like humans do, though. The moon has our mate planned for us. You don't get stuck with your mate because your in complete and utter love with them. Make sense?"

I nod. There's a few minutes with silence, me staring awkwardly at the leather on the couch and him staring at me.

"Have you found your mate?" After it comes out of my mouth, I inwardly smack myself. Stupid! I chance a glance to see his reaction. His eyes are a darker brown than usual, on the verge of black. I still haven't figured out what that means. I'll have to ask.

"No."

His eyes give away the lie. He wouldn't lie about that would he? I mean, I thought mates were like gods to werewolves.

"You're lying," I say crossing my arms.

"What? No!" There it is again: the eye flash.

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not!"

"Yes you are!"

"No I'm fucking not!" He yells. I've never heard him cuss, so I'm surprised to hear that word come out of his mouth.

The room is quiet, and I realize Zander and Trinity are looking at us. Mates are a touchy subject, aren't they?

"You shouldn't cuss," I hear myself say.

"Well, we're going to bed," Trinity takes Zander's hand, tugging him desperately towards the hallway that leads to the stairs. He resists, a bewildered look on his face.

"Are you human?" He asks, his attention pointed towards me.

God, what kind of a question is that? I guess I'm dealing with werewolves, though.

"Yeah..."

Now he speaks to Bash," Why the hell is a human in your pack house?"

Bash stands up, blocking me from Zander's view. He gives a deep, throaty growl, causing Trinity's mate to scramble backward. I push him aside and glare at Zander.

"You can't go around asking people if they're human! It's not right. What's wrong with me anyways? Do you have a problem with it?" I cross my arms, still glaring. He laughs.

"No, not anymore. You're cool."

I smile triumphantly," That's what I thought."

Bash stands in front of me again," Don't disrespect me, Zander. The next time you do I'll have no choice but to send you back to Genevieve, and I don't want to do that. I know how my... sister can be."

I still haven't gotten used to that. Genevieve being his sister. It's just wrong. She's so evil, and he's so... not.

After Trinity and Zander leave, I'm left alone with a very grumpy Alpha. He has his arms crossed over his chest, and I can see the tension in his shoulders. I try to walk past him to sit on the couch, but he stops me with a hand on my hip.

What's he doing?!

"Look, I'm..." he clears his throat, "I'm sorry about earlier. I don't know what's gotten in to me."

My brain's running a million miles an hour, trying to process the hand on my waist. I can't think, let alone answer him. What do I do? The most embarrassing thing, of course. What else would I do?

"Uhntsa," I make the most awkward sound.

God, I'm such an idiot!

We're only inches apart, and I can see the flecks of cinnamon in his eyes that make them the most intriguing brown color. His breath smells like buttery popcorn and chocolate. Suddenly, I realize what's going on, and I push past him to sit on the couch.

Acting like nothing happened I ask," Are you going to watch the rest of this movie with me or not?"

He chuckles, but shakes his head, "It's late, Danny. Get some sleep."

"Sleep? Sleep is for weaklings," I say, wrinkling my nose.

"I guess I'm a weakling," he smirks, walking out the door and into the hallway that leads to the stairs.

I end up watching the movie for about five minutes before my head hits the decorative pillows on the couch. I guess I'm a weakling, then.

///\\\///

I wake up with a painful kink in my neck. Peeling my eyes open, I find that I'm still on the couch. Although someone covered me with a blanket and turned off the T.V, nothing seems to be different. I groan and fling the blanket on the floor. The clock on the wall reads 5:30. Uhg... I never wake up this early. Stumbling down the hall in a sleepy daze, I hear shuffling in the kitchen. Who else gets up this early?

Peeking through the door, I'm met with the familiar smell of Bash's cologne. His bare back is to me, and the light from the fridge lights up the intricate tattoo on the skin there. It's an angel, bent down in a melancholy stance, wings spread sadly out from its back. The shading is amazing, and seeing this, I have an urge to paint. Bash's head snaps up suddenly, and he turns around.

"I can hear you breathing. Werewolf senses, remember?"

"Yes, curse you genetically advanced beings!"

He laughs. It's only then that I process the fact that he's not wearing a shirt. The muscles on this man are outstanding. I mean, I've never even seen him work out! His abs disappear beneath low hanging cotton pajama pants, and the muscles in his arms move as he continues to dig through the fridge.

"I, uh what did you say?"

He turns around, confused," I didn't say anything."

I scratch my head awkwardly," Oh, I... guess I'm just... yeah. I need to paint."

"Paint?"

I don't answer. I'm blushing to hard to look at him straight. Instead, I flee the kitchen, tripping up the stairs to my room. All my paint supplies are stashed in the drawer beside my bed. I slip on Bash's shirt that I forgot to give back, protecting my clothes from stray paint, pull my hair out of my face, grab a brush, and look around the room. I don't have a canvas, but the walls will do. I don't even care about the consequences, I just need to paint. It will relieve some of the pressure. I let my mind go blank as I paint, blocking all thoughts. Once I can breath again, I step back to admire my work, scrubbing at the paint smeared on my face. My eyes widen at what I see.

I've painted a handsome brown wolf with tinges of gold in its fur. Deep, almost burgundy, eyes stare longingly out across the room. I recognize that stare. It's Bash. I've painted Bash in his werewolf form... on the wall in his guest bedroom where everyone can see it.

"Damn it!"

:::::
Hey guys! I have some new... I entered this story in the Watty Awards! Yea!!! Anyways, I would really appreciate it if you guys could go back and vote for all of the chapters. Also, I was thinking of changing the name of this book to Break Away. Tell me what you think in comments and don't forget to vote. Love ya!
-Stargazer12647