Vincent was back to being Vincent. With the addition of him being stitched up brand-new. Somehow, the distance he created between us felt more personal though. I spotted him once throughout the day. Other than that, I used his scent to sniff him out whenever he was around. I had even listened for the sound of his footsteps under the door a few times too.

He'd trapped himself in his office. I'd have been a fool to think he was avoiding me. But I'd have also been a fool to assume he was only catching up on days' worth of work. Not much had happened in the few days he'd been on bed rest. So, that wasn't an excuse.

But I didn't know what else to think. Anything was possible with him.

"She's not answering again. . ." I tuned out the dial tone ringing in my ear. The phone was tucked in between the side of my head and my shoulder. Flat on my back, I laid on the floor, with my eyes gawking up at the ceiling. My head was spinning. My feet were numbing. I couldn't tell if I was too hot or too cold. I felt like a mess.

Working Vincent's nerves all day had been my only source of entertainment prior to having a phone. But he wouldn't allow me near him. And he wouldn't allow himself near me for whatever reason. The games on my phone were unamusing too. All that was left to do was ring my mother for the third time this afternoon and hope she'd answer.

"It's your daughter. Mother, pick up the phone," I whined, pressing the call button again.

The first thing I did when I got my phone together, was call my mother. But she hadn't answered. I was starting to think she wouldn't answer at all. My mother didn't like answering to unknown numbers. It was a miracle if she did. So, I'd left her a voicemail and shot her a text, hoping that'd work. So far, nothing yet.

The last time I had talked to her was two weeks ago, when Claudia lent me her phone. I couldn't believe it was already October 30th. Damn, who would've thought I'd have been spending my Halloween in the mountains? Not that I had much planned anyways. But still. I'd been here so long; I forgot Halloween was a day that existed.

"Hello?"

"Mom!?" I shot up from my position on the floor, as soon as I processed her voice.

"Genesis!? Genesis! Thank goodness, I checked that voice message. I almost hung up and sent you to voicemail. Thought you were one of those spam calls or something again. Those people have been working my nerves. Just a bunch of pain in the asses!"

I laughed. "No, it's just me mom. I told you in my message that I got a new phone for now."

"Right, right, yeah"—I imagined her waving me off on the other side of the phone as she rushed those words out—"anyways, ugh, it's so good to hear my baby's voice again! I was actually starting to miss you." She sighed out.

She was probably shaking her head and clutching her chest too. I wouldn't have doubted if her eyes were closed as well. She'd always close her eyes when she sighed. It was part of her natural dramatics.

"You know, actually, this works perfectly too!" she said, suddenly.

"What?" I asked, folding my arms over my chest.

She couldn't see the confused expression on my face but I was sure she could hear it in the sound of my voice. It wasn't every day my mother was up to something. And whenever she was up to something, it was normally no good.

"I was just thinking about taking a trip up there to see you tomorrow. Now that we can get in contact with you again, it's like fate confirming I should. Maybe I'll drop by in the afternoon after work." By the time she was finished, my eyes were wide.

I could practically see her shit-eating grin through the phone. Excitement and all. While I was practically contemplating shitting myself. Here I was, doing anything I could to prevent dragging my family into this mess, and she was trying to bull doze her way into the mess head-first. I knew I couldn't keep lying to her forever. But damn, I thought I had more time.

"W-what?" I tightened my grip on the phone and glanced back over my shoulder at the door, as if Vincent would walk in at any moment. "Mom, uh, I don't think that's a very good idea—"

"Why? You don't have anything planned for Halloween, do you?" she retorted, defensively.

"Um, well, not exactly, it's just, well, t-the thing is . . . I've been, um, tired! Yeah, I've been so tired and under the weather. I haven't been feeling too good. Is it okay if we move the date up?"

"Tired? Have you not been sleeping well? What about your diet? You have a habit of eating a lot of junk food. Don't tell me you haven't been taking care of yourself again."

"Mom, no! No, no. Nothing like that."

"Genesis, you better not be lying to me. I'm not playing with you." She wasn't buying my bluff. I swore under my breath.

"Mom, I'm telling you. I'm fine. It's nothing like that. Just . . . drained, you know? With job hunting, keeping up with rent, and Vincent being a pain in the ass all the time—" I slapped a hand over my mouth when I realized what I said.

There was silence on the other end. I could hear her breathing and rummaging around, on what sounded like a bed. The squeaks from the mattress springs were clear through the phone. I knew that silence. She wasn't going to let this one go.

"Who's Vincent?"

"No one," I squeaked.

"Genesis. . ." She used her I'm not playing with you voice. "You're acting strange, which means you're lying. That's it. I'm coming."

"Wait, mom—!" Shit, she hung up. I grasped the side of my head. "Shit, how am I supposed to explain this? No, I can't. Would he even allow it!? He won't. Fuck!" The words seethed out of me. Half of it was annoyance at myself. The other half of it was fear settling in my stomach.

I couldn't believe I was dumb enough to let that go! When should I have told him about this? Maybe later. No, I needed to tell him now. If he found out on his own, it'd make things worse. I needed to come clean and get it over with.

"Vincent!?" I ran to the door and rammed my fist into it over and over again. "Hey, Vincent! It's an emergency!" The shape of my knuckles was molding into the door.

I listened for the sound of movement but it'd been a few minutes and I couldn't hear a peep. Then, there was a loud thud from one of the nearby rooms in the hallway. It sounded as though a door opened and slammed. I backed away, as I heard footsteps pounding the floor in this direction. They sounded like the footsteps of an angry, heavy-footed man I knew all too well.

"Whoa," I squealed as the door swung open and two large hands wrapped around my wrist to stop the banging. I stared in a daze, my mouth opening and closing. His hands were firm on my skin, earning an unsolicited noise from deep in my throat.

"What the hell is your deal!?" Vincent growled.

"I have something important to tell you." I straightened up.

"What is so important that you're willing to take down the door to get my attention?"

"Um, well. . ."

"You've caused trouble, haven't you?"

"No!" I snatched my wrists out of his grip. He crossed his arms and tilted his head, waiting for my explanation. "It wasn't my fault. . ."

"So, what is it? Come on, Genesis, I don't have all day."

"Geez, you're so snappy today. You know, I really don't appreciate your attitude." I frowned and hugged myself, rubbing my hands over my arms.

"Genesis," he warned, his eyes flickering in color. It was an ongoing battle to regress back into their original state. But the wolf side was winning.

"My mom wants to see me," I blurted.

"Tell her you can't."

"I did."

"And?"

"She's still coming."

"You're not allowed to leave the premises."

"I know, but wait!" My hands flew out to his arms. He glanced down at my hands, keeping him in place, then up at me with an eyebrow raised. I smiled sheepishly.

"You're getting far too comfortable doing this. . ." he said, too calmly.

Were alphas used to people touching them like this? Was this considered a form of disrespect in their culture? It probably was. But if Vincent wasn't going to cut my hands off for touching him, then I didn't care what other alphas did. I was getting away with it. That's all that mattered.

"Come with me . . . as my chaperone," I suggested.

"Genesis, how many times do I have to remind you? I am not a babysitter. No."

"Please? Don't be like that." I stuck out my bottom lip, mustering up the cutest pout I could.

It would seem I forgot who I was dealing with here, though. He didn't care for the pouty act. It hadn't meant a thing to him. He hadn't even batted an eyelash.

"No. Shoo." He shook my hands off of him.

"Please, just this once! If you had a chance to see your mom for what could be the last time, wouldn't you take it?"

"No," was his cold, dead response. I stiffened.

He'd only said one word but it felt like I'd been punched in the gut.

Vincent cleared his throat and continued, "Now stop it. I'm not doing it."

"Fine, asshole." I gritted my teeth and scoffed.

Just when I'd turned my back to him, I felt something on my waist. My back hit the wall beside the door. One of his arms extended forward, trapping me in. His other hand was gripping my waist, his fingers digging into the skin under my pelvic bone. I could tell he was holding back some of his strength. If he wanted to use all of his force, he would have.

"Need I remind you who I am? I don't go back on my promises but you've seemed to have forgotten the situation we're in." His voice was low and gravelly. I flinched but didn't say a word as he leaned in closer to my face. "I've let you get away with too much for someone who isn't off the hook yet. And you've been taking my kindness for granted, Genesis. But I won't hesitate to show you what an asshole is really like if that's what you want."

I gulped, clenching my fists at my side. "And need I remind you that you're not the only stubborn asshole around here who knows how to get what they want." He narrowed his eyes, almost as if to say, I accept your challenge.

I stretched on my tip-toes, closing the distance between us. "I know that I'm not entirely off the hook yet. Trust me, I do. However, I'm not afraid to play your games until you find out I'm innocent. And I already told you, that you're going to feel so fucking sorry and apologize when you do find out. I promised you that, didn't I?"

Mariah's words were ringing in my ears. It was going to happen. I swore it to her.

"Looks like we've both got promises to keep then," Vincent said in a flat voice.

"Exactly. My mom wants to see me. She's coming whether you like it or not. I can't control that. Now, what happens from here on, is up to you"—I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply—"you can force me not to show up. You can take my phone away. But what you can't do, is stop her from filing a missing person's report again. I know my mother better than anyone.

"She will do that if she thinks something is wrong. They'll check all around town for me. There's a chance they'll search your mountains too. If you all don't want this place crawling with police, I suggest you drive me to meet my mom tomorrow, and help me get rid of her. That's your call. All you have to do is play the part."

I heard him snarl out a few profanities. He growled out another noise under his breath. He then removed his hand off the wall but kept his other placed on my waist. I waited for him to remove it but he didn't. He stared at me for a few seconds, searching my face. For what? I wasn't sure. Finally, he blew out a breath of hot air and calmed himself.

"Fine. You win," he said.

"Damn straight I do." I smirked. "We leave in the afternoon."

* * *

Vincent and I hadn't talked again since yesterday. Other than a few words exchanged during our car ride, as of now, while he asked for directions.

He'd been fuming. Like a pissed off little puppy-dog stuck in a mood, he was ready to snap, taking his anger out on anyone who so much as looked at him the wrong way. I didn't feel like dealing with him today, so I kept my thoughts to myself.

"The café right here," I mumbled, pointing to the large café sign up ahead.

My mother and I had agreed on meeting here. It was the same small, warm-colored, cozy café space I remembered. This was another place that brought back memories. I hadn't entered the café since the incident. It wasn't like I had a chance to anyways.

"You don't have to talk unless spoken to." I unfastened my seatbelt, twisting around in my seat. "Please don't take your attitude out on her either. She'll never leave if you give off an impression like that."

"Genesis," he said, "relax. I've got this."

Then, he was out of the car before I could say anything more. I jumped out, following behind him. Upon entering the café, Vincent gagged and covered his nose. I watched him, with an odd expression, cringe back until he almost bumped into the glass door.

"I hate the smell of coffee," he grumbled.

"There she is," I whispered. I tapped the side of his arm and pulled on his sleeves.

"Alright, let's get this over with." He rotated his neck around.

The sound of his knuckles cracking overpowered the many quiet voices around the café, talking at once. My mother's eyes roamed the tight space. When they finally caught sight of us, her lips curled up into a smile. But the smile faded. I didn't need to turn to understand why it had. I could tell her eyes were lingering on Vincent.

I bet those amber brown hues were doing things to her, just like they had to me, when I first laid eyes on him. The guy was frustrating, but he was undeniably handsome on the outside.

Her eyes drifted down his long black trench coat, wide-open, flowing down to his calves. It gave way for her to see the black turtle-neck he was wearing, that matched his black jeans, tucked into the top of his, of course, black combat boots. I was starting to think green and black were his favorite colors. He wore them enough.

She snapped out of her daze and flung her hands in the air. "Genesis!"

"Hey, mom," I greeted her, approaching the table.

"You guys are just on time! I already ordered what you told me to over the phone," she said.

When Vincent sat down, he rushed a hand through his hair, his curls propping back into place just as he finished. I wasn't sure if those were his gene's kicking in from his mother's side, being born of Hispanic descent as he claimed she was, or if there was something else.

"Is this. . ." she trailed off.

"Vincent? Yes," I said.

She nodded her head in slow motion. "Right. So, how do you two know each other?" Her mug was to her lips and she took small sips of whatever was inside. My guess was, it was coffee. I'd thought so because Vincent was trying his best not to scrunch his nose in disgust beside me.

"Well, I. . . He's my boyfriend!" I blurted.

My mom choked. "Y-your what? Boyfriend?"

"Yeah. . ." I nodded and threaded my fingers through Vincent's, to seem convincing. He shot me a look and attempted to remove his hand, but I squeezed. His hand was so warm, it was almost boiling. His eyes roamed over my thumb, massaging his skin. He opened his mouth but closed it again. I then heard a sigh leave his lips. He gave up and accepted defeat.

"Thanks. . . Just play the part, remember?" I whispered for his ears only. He blew out another puff of air, but hadn't responded. He only lifted the cup of water on the table to his lips and looked away.

It was proving to be hard not to focus on our molded hands, once again, breaking barriers of intimacy I'd hardly experienced with the opposite sex. Girls? Sure. I'd held a girl's hand plenty of times. Guys? Not really. I couldn't remember the last time I held a guy's hand in this way. Even then, it'd never been in an intimate way.

Sometimes I wondered if it had been any other pack I'd gotten tangled up with, would my treatment have been different? Was Vincent exaggerating or were other alphas really stricter than anything I'd seen in Calamitous? But then I'd notice how much Vincent let me get away with, for some odd reason, as he noted earlier, and was almost thankful it hadn't been any other pack.

He didn't look as uncomfortable as he did the last time we'd driven into town. However, his guard was still high and alert. He'd been observing everyone in the café. His ears were twitching. His fingers were tapping against the table. His leg was bouncing under the table. And I was sure he was going to squeeze the blood out of my hand if he didn't stop being so tense. I was about to kick his leg to grab his attention when my mother opened her mouth.

"How long have you two been dating?" she asked.

"Um, we've been dating for . . . almost eight months now. . ." I lied.

She stared at me. It was all she could do. I didn't think the conversation could get any stranger until Vincent, surprisingly, took the lead.

He lifted our intertwined hands and folded his other hand over it. "We've decided we're going to move in together. . . I asked your daughter if she would be okay with it because I . . . really, really like having her in my space."

"Yeah . . . uh, what he said."

"Mhm, she's already started moving some of her stuff into my house."

I added, forcing a grin, "I should have told you about him sooner. I'm really sorry I didn't, mom. But I didn't know if we'd last. I wanted to keep him a secret until I was sure he, um, actually liked me." It took everything in me not to cringe.

"Genesis." My mother's voice was stern. "Baby, are you . . . a-are you pregnant?"

A bunch of water got caught in Vincent's throat. I panicked and tapped his back to help him. He coughed a few times, massaging his Adam's apple. My mother's eyes widened as she observed Vincent's distraught figure.

"Ma, don't jinx me like that!" I hissed. Vincent's bewildered eyes were now on me. I could've sworn I saw a deep shade of red on his cheeks for a brief second, but it faded back into his olive skin tone. I held in my squeal as fingers dug into my thigh. Vincent shot me a glare, as to say put an end to this madness, but I just shrugged.

"I was just asking!" she defended. "Gosh, you two are so defensive. If I'm going to be a grandmother soon, I need to know, okay!?"

I shuddered. "Trust me, that's not happening any time soon."

"I see that now." She huffed.

I grunted internally, wishing I could smack my head on the table. Vincent was getting more uncomfortable by the minute. I didn't think many things could make him squirm. But it would seem talking about relationships, pregnancy, and all the above, were one of the subjects that did just that. It was almost appealing to watch, now that he was the one suffering, and I wasn't.

* * *

I played with the hems of my shirt, glancing at Vincent from the passenger side of the car. His posture was stiff and he was focused. "Thanks for the phone, by the way. I, uh, never got to thank you. Mariah said you paid to have it turned on for me."

The ride home was smooth but silent. He wasn't as angry as he was yesterday or earlier. But the remnants of his attitude were still lingering. I figured he'd blown off some steam since then.

He didn't speak at first. He was probably still cringing over that nightmare back there. It wasn't that bad but I guess his wolf pride was wounded. I could only imagine what was going on in his head. He'd been distracted, so lost in thought, since we left.

"I only gave it to you so that you could stay in contact with your mother. You said you missed her. So, there. You can talk to her whenever you want now." I stared at him. Studied him. Extremely close.

Then, I chose my next words carefully, talking at a slow pace, "You were listening. . . Wait no, you remembered . . . and you thought about me?"

"No," he said, brushing me off, too fast.

"You're lying," I murmured.

He ignored me and changed the topic. "Why did you tell her I was your boyfriend? You could've just said I was a friend or your new roommate or something," he spoke, slowly.

"The boyfriend excuse sounded more believable. Trust me. Why? Are you afraid I've cursed you and now we're going to be mated?" I teased, rolling my eyes.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened as he tensed again. "Definitely not. . ."

"Well, it was all just an act. When this all blows over, you won't have to keep it up. . . What's the deal with mates anyways? Those are like soul-mates, aren't they?" I hummed.

"In simpler terms." His answer was short and to the point.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you really trying to have this conversation right now?"

"Yes. I am, actually."

His teeth clenched together. "Fine. Our mates are chosen for us by the Moon Goddess . . . but that doesn't mean that person automatically becomes a permanent part of our lives. A future with them is not guaranteed."

"So, how does it work then?"

"She leads us to possible selections for a mate, then the rest is all up to us. We choose whether we want to reject or accept our mate. If we reject the mate the Moon Goddess has guided us to, then we move on, until she guides us to another.

"When, and if, we finally accept someone as our mate, that person is the person we'll be mated to for life until death. They're supposed to be our perfect matches. The other half that'll make us whole. The bond strengthens as we get to know them. And so on."

"How do you know when someone is your mate?"

"It all depends on the wolf. I've never really put much thought into it. . ." He shrugged.

"Give me the best explanation you can think of," I encouraged.

He sighed. "I've been told that some wolves feel it at first glance. They can feel the sparks and just know that person is who they're meant to be with. Some wolves take longer than others to realize it. The sparks aren't there for them at first.

"Maybe because they're subconsciously putting up a barricade—or whatever other reason. But they'll know for sure after a while. It's impossible not to know your mate, no matter how long it takes. Why are you asking about mates all of a sudden?"

I shrugged. "Mariah mentioned it a couple days ago when she was talking to Dylan and Dimitri. Are they mates?"

Vincent shook his head. "Not exactly. Wolves aren't officially mated until the mating process is complete and the mates have been marked."

"The mating process," I started but stopped myself, "wait, you don't mean. . ."

"Yes, exactly what you're thinking. I'm sure you know how biology works in animals and humans. So, if you know anything about mating in animals, then you understand."

"Oh, um. . ." I could feel the heat creeping to my cheeks. Hell, this was going to be an awkward conversation. But I wanted to know more. "They seem close. Does that mean I mistakened their closeness for—?"

"Dylan has commitment issues thanks to her childhood. She's a tough one. That's all I can really tell you. The rest, you'd have to hear from her." Vincent sighed again.

"Oh okay, that makes sense. Wait, have you, um, found a mate? Based on your explanation, I guess, I thought it'd be an enjoyable experience. I don't know. But you look uncomfortable when talking about it. . ."

He glanced at me briefly, then looked back at the road. I tried to get a better look at his face but he wouldn't make eye contact. "No. I just . . . don't care for them. I don't have time for a mate or any form of relationship anyways. . . You know, you're still very nosy."

"I'm not human anymore. I need to know this stuff! Does that mean I'll end up with a mate!?"

"Well, I don't think that's exactly it. You're a special case—"

I interrupted him with another shout, "What if I can't tell what the sparks feel like? Does my heart race or do some other cheesy lovey-dovey thing!? What if I can't—?"

His foot pressed down on the brakes. Our bodies flung forward, the seatbelt catching us with all its strength. "Hey! Would you calm down?" he snapped.

"Sorry," I muttered and stared down at my lap.

"If you talk for the rest of the ride, I won't hesitate to throw you out of the car and watch you walk the rest of the way back to the mountain. Understood?"

"But I—"

"Genesis, enough." He narrowed his eyes.

I threw my hands up in surrender and leaned away. "Fine, fine. Okay! I'll be quiet. . . gosh, why are you nicer when you're flustered?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose and massaged his temples, resting his head against the steering wheel. "You enjoy purposely pissing me off, don't you?" Should I have said yes? Should I have said no? I didn't know which answer to go with.

So, I settled with, "Maybe."

There was a sigh. Then, there was soft laughter. It was so deep, I thought I misheard it rumbling from his chest. He shook his head and clutched onto the steering wheel again—so tight—his knuckles were going whiter than they'd already been.

"Vincent, you're supposed to be mad. . . Mad, Vincent. Be mad. That's what you're supposed to be," he repeated words I could hardly make out under his breath, until he put the car back into drive. "Moon Goddess, give me strength, please." Then, we were pulling off again.

I couldn't tell if that had been amused laughter, angry laughter, annoyed laughter, or something else. For all I knew, it could've been all the above. I didn't doubt it.

I peered out the window, with my palm pressed to the glass.

I couldn't see the wind but I knew there were gushes of it because the branches were close to snapping off the trees. I could also feel it whipping the back of my neck through the crack of Vincent's window. There were many leaves floating around like tumbleweed until they hit the ground. Alongside them, I saw something. It wasn't real. But it felt real.

There was a large black wolf sprinting through the forest. Its fur whipped back as the air breezed through its hair. Its hind legs put in the most work to steady the wolf's weight, while its front legs took off some of the pressure. The leaves around the wolf showered its body. When our eyes connected for a moment, my chest grew lighter.

It wasn't real. It wasn't real. But it was there. And it began to fade.

"So, that's how I'm supposed to imagine myself. . ." I let out my own laugh. It was a short, quick noise under my breath. This was the first time I had given myself a glimpse of my shift, and I didn't know how to feel or what to feel. But I definitely felt something.

And I closed my eyes to let my imagination run wild, for the first time.